Toya the Troll

An original traditional tale by Maggie and Isabella . . .

Hi I’m Toya the Troll. I’m the big old scary troll from the famous tale The Three Billy Goats Gruff. There’s more to me than a hairy armed beast. For example, I’m not a boy, I’m a women. And I have seven children and a husband named Toyvo. My bridge was very nice until three greedy, hungry tricky billy goats came along and destroyed it. 

    One day, my children and I were watching the telly when we heard stomping as loud as trumpets. I went outside to see what was happening and a little billy goat was crossing my bridge, of course. The first thing I thought was that my family was going to have goat for dinner tonight. But then the tiny goat was telling me lies. He was saying that he was too little for me so I believed him. Of course, the goat was scared, but I was terrified. How could this goat go in my yard and eat my crops and disturb my family and still look at me like I was a monster? My children begged me to come back and play with them, so I trudged myself down under the bridge and played. My husband came home and I told him what had happened. He was scared, too. 

The next day there was a bigger billy goat who looked big enough to feed me, Toyvo and some of the kids. So I decided to strike at him. After I got my claws on and told Toyvo that we were having goat tonight, I climbed exitedly to the bridge. I started to circle him and tried to scratch him near the arm but I missed. “Hey, when was the last time you shaved, ugly?” he scoffed. I felt a tear of embarrassment and sadness making its way down my cheek. “Why you crying, ugly?” the goat said again. I felt myself dropping to the ground as if I was melting. Before the medium sized goat left me, he informed me that his bigger brother would come tomorrow. That night I couldn’t sleep. The goat’s words kept coming back to me, and I was wondering what the big goat would do.

When I woke up, I wanted to cry and yell and run away. Run as fast as I can all the way to the other side of the earth, but I didn’t. My kids got my weapons ready. As soon as the biggest billy goat started to “trip trap” on my bridge, I rose. The goat expected it. He was very tall. He also had four earrings, and to top it all off he had dyed his horns red. “My name is big billy goat Roger,” he said in a deep voice. I giggled a little because he was such a big goat with such an ordinary name. “What are you laughing at, hugly? That means hairy and ugly!” he scoffed. It seemed like everyone thought I was a monster. I am a monster, and I’m proud. Three of my babies all named Merlin came to give me a pointy fork. My oldest Merlin tried to stab Roger in the heart but he missed and hit him in the leg.

The big billy goat was so mad that he started to pick me up with his huge horns and threw me to the ground. I could feel my heart almost stopping. My tears were flowing out of my eyes like a river. He stomped on me until I was as flat as a pancake. Then he chucked me up in the air as high as he could. I felt like I was flying, not in a good way! I thought that it was raining because I was crying so much. I could still hear my children whimpering so loudly it shook the mountains.

I landed in another neighborhood all the way across town. The people there were so kind. They showed me where the hospital was. The doctor was a very nice human. I think he like me. It took my family seven days to find me. I was happy until everything went black. I couldn’t feel anything or hear anything and I knew that I was in a coma.

To be continued . . .