To The Humans

To.

Dr. Agbalapi,

Dentist Extraordinaire

Advocate for maladied and maltreated dental structures 

Cc.

All humans who own and oppress teeth

From

Area 38(Federation Dentique Internationale)

Left lower jaw,

Oral Cavity, 

The Dentist's Atelier.

Dear Dr. Agbalapi,

From my lopsided little corner on the ramus of the mandible, life looks bleak. All the other teeth are set in their sockets, looking really pretty and cohesive. My brother and I are the odd ones. Seated in the wrong orientation, it was always obvious we weren't quite right. It always felt like someone put out a recruitment notice when they didn't need any new staff.

I figured it out years ago. When all the teeth left the temporary residences under the gum and started to erupt, I always thought I would come out next. I didn't. Me, Molar 3. The wisdom tooth. Patience, patience, patience almost ended my life inside that dark place. And then one day, I began to go up. And oh the joy. I went up and up and up. On certain days, it would seem the road ahead was blocked, so I'd push and push and end up pushing myself up a wall. But I was going up. The day I finally came out and realized that I was unwanted, I shed tears, silent tears. After over a decade of waiting, the limelight for me was truly very lime-like, very sour.

Over the years since I realized I was unwanted, I have moved through all the stages of grief. I reached acceptance twelve years ago. I decided in that moment of realization, to get my owner to visit the dentist. If I can't be useful, then I must get out. Useless teeth are no teeth. To this end, I have thrown controlled tantrums of all sorts. I once started hiding bits of food under the little flap of gum that hangs around me. I hoped that the painful inflammation from the food attracting germs would make my owner go to see the doctor so I could be rid of this sad fate. No luck. Every day, my owner would wake up with this pain, and gaggle and swish and brush around my house very hard. And my owner would take drugs, graduating from Paracetamol to Diclofenac so that the pain would go. Every day, my owner would forget me, the tooth at the back.

At other times, I would place that little friendly piece of gum on top of me. That way, when my owner bites while eating, the teeth above, that hate me for the pain I cause and my ugly positioning, would hit that piece of gum. It hurt me to cause pain to my friend, but I needed to be out. My owner only ate more gently, using front teeth to crush and chew in ways they weren't designed to do.

Unfortunately, the tantrums have gotten out of hand. A few weeks back, one of those pieces of food started an infection again. I thought I could stop it like all the other tantrums. But it has gotten out of hand. Now, my owner feels pain every time, not just in the teeth, but lower down, in his jaw. And I can follow the germy rage and see that it's going down into my house. The house, below the gum, the part that all teeth keep hidden away from the eyes, saliva, and germs. And I fear that the germs will find the vessels and nerves that deliver power and help me deliver my feelings to my owner's central processing systems(I heard it's known as the brain). And if it finds the nerves, then it will go and corrupt the brain. And my owner... My owner could die.

I have long decided to sacrifice myself for the good of my owner. Yet, I have not felt the crushing grip and upward pull of the dentist. This letter is addressed to you, Dr. Agbalapi, and you are to share this to everyone who keeps teeth like me trapped in a life of purposelessness, especially my owner. Tell them, we are fine with dying outside as long as we don't kill anyone. Tell them to release us. I will not be the one who repeats his ancestors' mistakes and loses his owner in the fight to keep his place. I refuse to dishonor myself and prove unworthy of the name "wisdom teeth". My owner will do just fine without me; my wisdom is unneeded, and I trust that you will make my departure painless for my owner. So let them allow me to seppuku on your extraction forceps, dear doc. Let them allow me to go in peace. Happy World Oral Health Day doc, hear my SOS. And come save my pulp cavity. 

Love.

Molar 3.