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The Troll Under My Bed

© Virginia Marin

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I ask you: "Has there ever been a child who has never looked under his bed for the Boogyman, or other fearful beings, before drifting into the land of Alice and lollipops?" Well, listen, my friend while I tell you about the Troll under MY bed...

When I was wee, my parents always put me to bed early and turned out the light. Even today, I am unable to sleep in any other than a dark room. I never liked it then, but at least I was not alone--there WAS someone with whom I could talk. My parents thought I was alone, but I was not. For you see, there lived, under my bed, a Troll.

When it was dark and quiet he opened a small trap door and crept out, ever so gently, so as not to startle me. The first time I met the Troll, he told me he did not like lights, and he never allowed one to be turned on. He also told me that he did not like my Daddy. This made me laugh, because when I was naughty, and he put me to bed even earlier, I did not like him either.

The home of the Troll was in the floor, though exactly where, I was not sure, because the living room was directly below my bedroom. I was quite sure he did not live in the living room or he would have been seen.

The first time the Troll appeared, I thought there were mice under my bed. Jumping up, I started to run, but the Troll called to me in such a kindly manner that I stopped and listened to him, though he could not be seen.

"By the stars in the sky, and my life for a skittle, you nearly scared the life out of me, miss little. What is your name?"

While he was sitting there huffing and puffing, I told him that he could call me Lee. My name was Virginia Lee, but I did not like Virginia then, nor do I now. And that is how our friendship began.

In subsequent nights, after my parents turned off the lights, I would stay very quiet, then slowly make my way to the edge of the bed, and leaning over, almost onto my head, I would lift the dust ruffle and gingerly look underneath. If I did not hear the Troll, I lay on the floor with my face cradled in my hands. I knew he was there because I could hear him moving around. After a space of time, the trap door opened with a creak, and Mr. Troll emerged and sat down under the bed.

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