Sorry, Mom, I’m too scared to flush the toilet

Graphic by Amy Luo

I know the toilet will murder me if I don’t run away fast enough.

As embarrassing as it is to admit, I get scared by the sound of flushing toilets. Maybe I’m just sensitive to loud noises, but I swear I can’t be the only one who feels this way…

My fear of these demonic entities began on a grim Halloween night when my friends and I watched “The Boy,” a horror film that follows a nanny taking care of a disturbing baby-sized doll. 

I made the mistake of drinking too much lemonade (something I’ve regretted to this day) so I needed to take a bathroom break. With every step to the bathroom, the dark hallway seemed to stretch on forever and I couldn’t help but imagine a beady-eyed doll grinning at me in the dark hallway, following my every step. I was tempted to sprint back the way I’d come, but my urge to pee was overpowering. 

As soon as I pressed down the handle to flush, the sudden roar of the toilet erupted and my heart stopped for a second, sending my body into fight or flight mode as I braced for a pair of crusty doll hands to drag me into the darkest realm of sewage. Before I could even finish drying my hands, I dashed out of the bathroom, through the dim hall and back to the comfort of my friends.

Words cannot describe the fear that washed over me that Halloween night. The scariest part about using the bathroom wasn’t imagining Bloody Mary jumpscaring me from the bathroom mirror or looming ghosts behind the shower curtain — it was seeing myself reflected in that swirling vortex of doom. Each swirl and roar of the toilet made me feel like I was either going to be sucked into it or some horror movie villain was going to pop out and murder me. 

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the last time the toilet’s evil flush caught me off guard.

A few days later, I paid a visit to the public restrooms of the Saratoga Library. As soon as the door slammed shut behind me, the noises of chattering students faded to a faint mumble and the flickering ceiling lights hummed ominously. Mind you, I was still a bit on edge from “The Boy.” The bathroom itself was already creeping me out, but that wasn’t even the scariest part. After using the bathroom, I barely even stood up when a loud roar echoed through the stall like an air horn sounding off directly in my eardrums. 

I forgot that the library toilets use an automatic flusher. 

Even worse, the stall door folded inwards, which gave me no choice but to move closer to the horrific gurgling before I could escape.

The worst of all the toilet flushers are, without a doubt, the dreaded airplane toilets. Those hideous monsters like to deceive you by taking an extra three seconds of hesitation before vacuuming the sheer fabric of reality into its hull, almost dragging you inches closer to being engulfed by a black hole.Thankfully, I’ve (mostly) overcome my fear of the violent toilet flushers, meaning that I no longer need to cover my ears when flushing. However, I still tread warily around these evil beasts …