Everyone Knows Bathrooms Have Trolls

My entire brain was having a melt down as I sat at the table, waiting for her to stop talking. It was as if time had actually slowed to the point where it had almost stopped moving altogether.
“Can I please go to the bathroom?” I squealed as soon as my step mom paused to breathe.
Looking at me like I was dumb, she nodded. I stood but stopped when I realized no one had stood to go with me.
“You can go by yourself, you’re big enough.” Thrill and joy of being treated like a grown-up overshadowed the eminent fear of going somewhere I’d never been all by myself. It didn’t matter, I had to go, and I had to go now! But there was a line, a mile long line. I had to go. My heart was pounding as I danced, practically bouncing up-and-down in agony. Out I ran, rushing towards a family bathroom I prayed was open.
Praying should have worked; we were at a church. My grandma’s church, specifically, at a large dinner event meant to celebrate the new year. Or as I like to think, or rather grand celebration of my 10th birthday.
But when I yanked open the unlocked door, it was occupied. I squealed an apology, embarrassed. It had been an accident, why was my heart racing so? I felt as though I’d just shoplifted and gotten caught.
Finally, finally, the door opened and out the man came.
He pulled his red baseball cap further down onto his curly ginger mop of hair, the same color as my stepmoms; he walked away like nothing had ever happened.
So I ran into the bathroom and quickly did my business. But, in my haste, I hadn’t locked the door.
And everyone knows that bathrooms have trolls.
In came mine.
His beard was the same color ginger as his hair. His teeth were yellow and bent, and his brown eyes seemed to burn me. What I remember most was his white tank top with one word written on it. Lifeguard. Someone I was supposed to trust.
Everyone knows that bathrooms have trolls. Yet, he had no club, no weapons at all it seemed.
Wrong.
He had his words, and he used them to hold me in place.
“Quiet.” “Don’t tell.” “No one will believe you.”
Everyone knows that bathrooms have trolls, Mom.
Didn’t you know?
Because he destroyed me. He destroyed me with that we-haven’t-even-begun-yet smile. And now I run, Mom.
Now I run.
Everyone knows the bathrooms have trolls. And there goes mine; he’s scot-free and I’m the guilty one.
At age 9, I know that danger doesn’t need a weapon.
Now I run.