Under the bridge (a children's story)
The boy sits on the edge of the water, dipping his fingers in the cold stream and looking far out, into the darkness. It is the middle of the day, yet it is still dark underneath the bridge. It's a place where it's always dark, where no light has ever existed.
A troll lives there, the boy knows. He's seen it. Or him. Or her. Or them. Or whatever it is you're supposed to call a troll. The boy had seen him picking mushrooms, higher up the hill. And while he didn't see the troll actually go under the bridge, he can assume. Where else would a troll live?
Tony, for that is the boy's name, has taken to watching the troll from afar. He pretends to play in the water, though he never goes in, not fully. He hasn't had a bath since he saw the troll. He's afraid that he'll go into the water and it will slow him down. Tony is afraid that the troll would catch him and drag him under the bridge.
There's something moving under the bridge, Tony feels certain, but he likes to try his luck. The thing in the darkness is approaching, coming towards the light. Towards Tony. But the boy doesn't move, he dares himself to see the creature.
And he does. A small, ugly thing, painted a dark shade of green steps out of the shadows and stares the boy in the face. Tony locks eyes with the troll, who doesn't stop moving and starts running toward the trespassing boy.
The river is the troll's property, he feels quite certain of that, and he does not like people on his property. Tony has only seen the troll away from the bridge once. It was dark, this time everywhere, it was the middle of the night. And Tony opened his eyes, fresh out of a horrible nightmare and looked out the window. And instead of the clear moon, he saw a strange, ugly shape in the dark, with two beady eyes peering in.
It frightened Tony terribly to see the troll at the window and he began to scream, until his mother came to see what the trouble was and the troll was gone. But of course, that didn't stop Tony from going down to the river again.
Tony can't take the pressure anymore and begins to run, himself, away from the river and away from the hideous beast.
He doesn't stop until he reaches the safety of his house, where his mother turns from what she's doing in the kitchen and gives her son a strange look.
'What on Earth is the matter with you, honey?' she asks. His mother is tall and beautiful, with long blonde hair and a soft voice, like an angel's.
Tony has never told his mother about the troll under the bridge, but all his secrets come bubbling out now. He cannot be alone in this anymore, or the image of the running troll might eat him up.
His mother smiles and picks up her child.
'But there's nothing to be afraid, Tony, he's just a little one, like you.'
Wait, does his mother already know about the troll? He wonders...if she does know, why has she said nothing until now?
'He's been there since before you were born. And I used to wash our clothes in that river, remember? When you were a small boy and I left you with your Nana, that's where I went. Every week, and he never did me any harm. There's nothing to fear, honey.'
'But why didn't you tell me?' Tony asks his mother. He's furious, he really thought it was his secret.
'Well,' his mother says, 'because he likes his privacy, like everyone else. I didn't want you going there to gawk at him, Tony. It might upset him.'
Tony thinks this is very strange, he's been looking at the troll for days now, and nothing's happened. True, there was that incident with the running earlier, but surely, that didn't matter.
Later that day, when the stars are out and it's getting quite dark, Tony cannot sit still. He wants to go see the troll again. He's angry with his mother for not telling him, for not taking him to see the troll sooner. He loves peering at the strange, ugly creature under the bridge, why wouldn't his mother let him do that?
Silly mother...
So, Tony waits until his mother enters the bathroom, to shower, and he sneaks out the back door, which leads to the river. He runs all the way, because he knows his mother will know where to look for him and it won't be long until she finds him again.
Tony reaches the river out of breath and goes closer to the bridge than he's ever been before. He peers into the darkness and the darkness peers back.
'Naughty child, naughty child...' a voice in the dark chants and Tony feels his skin prickle. He tries to see in there, to catch a glimpse of the troll's beady eyes.
And he does, but by the time he sees it (or him, or her..), it is too late for Tony. The troll has caught the little boy by the foot and is pulling. Hard.
Tony tries to stand, but only manages to fall, tumbling into the water with a great big splash. And the troll catches the boy by the hair and drags him underneath the bridge with him.
'Naughty child,' he says again and, as if by magic, Tony can suddenly see in the darkness under the bridge. He sees a bed of rags, in a dug-out hollow and pictures, hanging under the bridge, of other trolls, from under different bridges.
And strange bottles, of all shapes and sizes, filled with mysterious colors.
'I've watched you come time and again,' the troll says, and his voice sounds so sad, 'and not once did you stop to think how it would make me feel. You came to laugh at me, to stare at me, as if I am some sort of monster. Because I suppose to you, I am. Maybe I am a monster, but this is my place.'
The troll's voice shivers with emotion, 'This is my bridge and my peace. I tried to show you what you were doing to me by coming to your own home, but you probably thought me a nightmare. I just want to live here, by myself, and not be bothered with you silly humans.'
The only thing Tony manages to say is 'I'm sorry,' and then he screams for his mother.
'Oh yes, I knew your mother, such a delicate being. So good. She never made fun, she never laughed. She never stared at me like I was a circus freak. I'm not a freak, little boy and I've had it up to here with your staring. You come to bother me again and again. You know what? If you like this bridge so much, then you can have it. I give you my bridge.'
Suddenly, the troll's ugly face began to change, catching features not his own. Tony stared at the monster and began to recognize...himself. The troll's crooked, hairy nose was turning into a small, pink one. His nose.
And the troll's beady eyes were growing wider and whiter, like Tony's eyes. And bit by bit, the troll stood up taller, while Tony began to stoop. And when he looked down at himself, he saw a hairy, dark green little body.
'I'm sorry, little boy,' the troll-who-was-now-Tony said, 'it is not the way of the trolls to be cruel and mean. We are not like you, you see? We don't seek to do harm, we don't hurt or make fun of others. But this is the way, the legend says a child will come. Sometimes, it is a boy, sometimes it is a girl. But one will come who will make fun of the troll under the bridge. And then, the child shall take his place. I should know, I was once a little boy too.'
And without another word, the troll-who-was-now-Tony waddled through the water and stepped up on the shore, heading towards Tony's house.
Tony, who was now small and green and hideously ugly tried to follow, but found he couldn't go too far from the bridge. And he called out for the troll and for his mother, but he called in vain.
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