In England, kids were advised to burn their baby teeth to prevent hardship in the afterlife. This tradition was first noted in the earliest written records of Northern European and Norse culture.ĭuring the Middle Ages between the 5th and 15th centuries, more superstitions arose surrounding baby teeth. In Northern Europe, for example, there was a long-standing tradition of tand-fé, loosely translated as “tooth fee,” which was paid out when a child lost his or her first tooth. There are legends and traditions, dating back millennia relating to the loss of baby teeth. The Tooth Fairy as we have come to know it is a relatively recent creation that has evolved over a long period of time.
Let’s take a look at the origin of this iconic childhood legend and see how the story has evolved over time. Unlike, many other heroes of folklore, however, the Tooth Fairy exists in some form across numerous religions, cultures and countries. Teacher's grade, A* - "You are going to be a serious writer.Like Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy is a cherished symbol of childhood. The story was inspired by the film Darkness Falls (2003). This is a short story I wrote at the age of 13, with my teacher's corrections now included. If you liked this story, please don't forget to vote! In the new dark, something stirred in the corner. I switched off the light, closed my eyes and dozed, my note clutched in my fist. "Now, no more nightmares, I need to go to work tomorrow!" My mother bent down, kissed me on the forehead, brushed my hair from my eyes and left. It was my mother, wrapped in a blanket, with a five pound note and a smile. "I almost died of shock!" The face became warm and rosy, with blonde hair pooling in the light. "Richard, you gave me such a fright!" it spoke. The yellow light bathed the intruder, a pale white face glared down at me. I turned the light on, my fingers scrambling, seized up in fright. A keening wail filled the room and the figure's cloak flapped in the draft. A wisp of material flapped back, forbidding. Don't peek! I closed my eyes to slits, squeezing them so hard that tears broke out underneath them.Īll sanity lost me then, and I opened them, fraction by fraction, until I could see a shady picture through my eyelashes. A hand, cold like ice, brushed across my head, dry. Under the sheets, my legs tensed and a clammy sweat broke on my forehead, and then I steeled myself. The scrape of nails on wood grated through the air, filling my head up with images of claws scratching across my pale skin. The sound of something sliding across the carpet, the soft muffled sound like an executioner's sack pulled shut over a head.
I snapped my eyes shut, and a harsh breathing could be heard, steady and strong. A shadow lay across the floor, broken by the branches against the moonlight outside. It opened, easing at a steady, slow rate. Watching, I expected the door to close, as it always does. A draft floated by, blowing a wisp of hair across my face, and the door creaked. Sleep was almost descending when a sound, a whispering hiss woke me from my stupor. I lay daydreaming, my mind wandering from thought to thought. It was cold outside and I was warm inside my cocoon under my sheets.
#Toothfairy story windows#
The curtains flapped - the windows were open the way I liked it. Shaking my head to dislodge the chilling thoughts, I pulled the covers up below my chin, turning on my side with my hands cupped around the tooth. Her only distinguishable features were crooked, deformed, talloned hands and a white porcelain mask, with two bloodshot eyes glaring through two slits. Then she becomes a clawed screeching creature, a mass of black rags. They say she's a floating wisp of shadow, formless until you cast your eyes upon her. They also say that she isn't a good fairy either. Some say that the tooth fairy doesn't exist. Laying my head on the soft pillow, I thought I could feel a little bump if I pressed my head down really hard. They say you can feel your last tooth through it. I unwrapped my fingers from around it and placed it beneath the very centre of my pillow. My final milk tooth, the last to fall out, lay cold, smooth and hard like glass, cool in my clenched fist.
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