**Diary Entry: A Dream Come True – My Life Turned into a Fairytale… All Thanks to a Broken Tooth!**
It all began with an ordinary, unremarkable pothole. That gloomy autumn evening, I was heading home on a bus through the streets of London—grey, dreary, and soaked in icy rain. The sky seemed to weep over us, tired and drenched. The bus I’d hoped for was late, so I jumped onto the first one I could find. I settled into a seat, leaning against the window, just wishing for a quiet ride home.
But as luck would have it, right under my seat, the bus thudded into a hidden pothole beneath the water. The jolt was so sharp I bit my own tongue—and the next second, I felt a shard in my mouth. One of my front teeth had cracked, and a throbbing pain shot through my head.
Clenching my jaw in frustration and pain, I hailed a taxi and searched for an emergency dentist. Half an hour later, I sat waiting in the corridor. Little did I know, this seemingly absurd incident would mark the start of a whole new chapter in my life.
*”Good evening, come in,”* a woman’s voice called out.
It was Dr. Eleanor—a tall woman in a bright yellow coat with a warm, almost motherly smile. When I saw the syringe in her hand, panic flared, but her calm reassurance made me relax. Even the anaesthetic barely stung.
The tooth couldn’t be saved, and I needed a crown fitted over several visits. But by the second appointment, I found myself looking forward to them. Ellie and I chatted about books, films, life. Turns out she adored sci-fi as much as I did. After the third visit, I invited her over to watch old trailers and flip through my favourite novels.
That’s how our friendship began—real, genuine, rare. Ellie was entirely alone—no family, no relatives. She’d grown up in foster care, living in a tiny but cosy flat. Meanwhile, I was the opposite: a big, warm, noisy family—parents, sister, brother, all tightly knit. Ellie slipped into our circle like one of us. Mum adored her, my sister asked her for study advice, and my brother was thrilled when she helped him find tutors—he aced two years of business school in one.
One day, Ellie told me:
*”You were born to carve. Stop just dreaming—start doing.”*
She even found me a tutor! I threw myself into it. It was as if Ellie hadn’t just fixed my tooth—she’d given me a fresh purpose. I felt alive again.
Then one day, her clinic was closed…
Her phone was silent. I went to her flat. She opened the door in her coat, eyes red. In her hands was an old photograph—a young Ellie and a middle-aged woman.
*”Is that your mum?”* I asked.
*”No,”* she whispered. *”That’s Joan. My foster mother. She was everything to me. And… she’s gone.”*
Ellie wept as she spoke of the woman who’d loved her like family. We talked till 2 AM. A week later, Ellie invited us all to dinner and said:
*”I’ve got something to propose.”*
And that’s when the real fairytale began. Joan had moved abroad, working as a nanny before passing away. She’d won a fortune in the lottery—and left it to Ellie.
We were stunned. Ellie simply added:
*”We’ve dreamed together so much… Now it’s time to make it real.”*
We dug out old notes—scribbles of laughter and hope—about a family guesthouse, a kids’ camp, a place where everyone belonged. And we decided: *now.* Joan’s inheritance was the seed, but the rest was ours. We bought an old farmstead in the Cotswolds with timber cottages, woods, a river. Within a year, we’d turned it into paradise.
My sister runs guided walks. Dad tends the stables—kids adore him. Mum and I cook: pancakes, fresh bread, strawberry jam. My brother manages everything. And Ellie? Still a dentist—just with two clinics now, one in the nearest town and another right on the farm. In summer, she works outdoors, surrounded by pines, birdsong, and children’s laughter.
She even got married—to a local doctor, Edward. Now he’s family too. And me? I’m in love. With my carving tutor. I think it’s mutual. But neither of us has dared say it yet. Plenty of time ahead.
Now tell me—how could I ever resent potholes again?
Sometimes, one bump in the road is the quickest route to happiness. And yes, even if you don’t believe in the tooth fairy—she’s real. I’ve met her.
