Baby Teeth: Bite-sized tales of terror Read Free Page B

her deeper into her warm bed. Then Essie would sleep until it was time to get up and have breakfast.
    When Momma emerged, she looked tired and grumpy. Daddy got her settled in the comfy chair and made a fuss, fetching a warm drink and something to eat. Essie had to sit at the table alone, Daddy’s breakfast forgotten on his plate. Those precious few minutes of just them time, and of feeling truly loved, were over. Essie’s breakfast curdled in her stomach.
    Daddy rested his big hands on Momma’s swollen stomach while Essie regarded the bulge with suspicion from the shadow of the kitchen door. Daddy spoke softly to Momma and they smiled at each other. Essie didn’t feel jealous of the way her parents loved each other. She knew, deep inside, that their love was different and somehow sacred in a mysterious way.
    The baby made Essie frown. The thing hadn’t even been born yet and already it was taking them both away from her.
    Soon enough Daddy had to go. He kissed Momma and stroked Essie’s head. ‘Be a good girl,’ he growled with mock seriousness. Essie beamed up at him and hugged his leg.
    Then Essie and Momma were alone for another long night: Momma watching TV and Essie bringing a blanket and books from her room to the sofa and hiding from the bright light of the screen while reading the stories in her books.
    â€˜Essie—’ Momma moaned. Essie slithered out from under her blanket. The air had a scent of fear and sweat, tinged with blood. Essie licked her lips.
    â€˜Momma?’
    â€˜It’s time, sweetheart ... It’s – ooh – it’s time ...’ Momma squirmed in her seat, illuminated by the glow of the TV. Essie cinched her eyes shut and jabbed at the power button, shutting off the noise and the searing glow.
    â€˜Essie. I need you to ... ohhh ... I need you to be a big girl. You gotta help Momma, honey.’
    Essie nodded and stepped closer. The fabric of Momma’s comfy chair was stained dark, and fluid dripped through the wicker frame, splattering on the floor in thick, viscous drops.
    â€˜I’m here, Momma. Should I call Daddy?’ Daddy had a cellphone. The number for it was on the fridge.
    â€˜Daddy’s working, baby. Leave him be – ohh ...’ Momma shivered, her legs spreading, her knees drawing up. ‘Help me get my pants off, sweetie.’ She spoke in rasping breaths. Essie leaned forward, plunging her face into the deep musk emanating from her mother’s core. She pulled the soft fabric of the pants down, startled to realise that Momma had wet herself like a little kid.
    â€˜What do I do, Momma?’ Essie’s senses tingled. The small amount of blood that had come from inside Momma made her teeth itch and her fingers flex.
    â€˜Hold my hand! Ohh ...’ Momma’s back arched, her loose T-shirt sliding backwards off the pulsing lump of her belly. Essie gripped her mother’s hand, feeling her mother squeeze tighter as a contraction rippled through her.
    â€˜Ohhh – shaka ... nyah ... rikaash ...’ Momma moaned. Essie felt the hairs on the back of her neck rising at the old prayer. Essie watched with a mixture of fascination and disgust as more fluid wept from Momma down there.
    Her mother panted between the regular contractions. ‘Hold the baby’s head,’ she gasped. Essie pressed her hands against the trembling flesh of her mother’s thighs. The head emerged and she felt the weight of it resting in her palms.
    â€˜I got the head, Momma,’ she whispered.
    â€˜One – more – puuuushhhhh ...’ Momma bore down and Essie felt the small shape slide out into her hands. The cord that ran from the baby’s stomach to inside Momma glistened purple and pulsed with a steady beat. Essie frowned at the grey-skinned thing that had come from inside Momma.
    â€˜Clear his mouth. Make sure he can breathe,’ Momma murmured in an exhausted whisper. The baby mewled a