Tales of Terror

17. Night Terrors

My poor baby. I thought as I lay in bed. I hated hearing my daughter having her night terrors. The piercing screaming, the hysterical crying, the heart wrenching sound of her gasping for air. That, coupled with the fact I was powerless to help her made me feel like absolute crap. "It'll pass" the doctors had told me, "make sure she takes these tablets twice a day and whatever you do, do not wake her up during an episode." An eight year old on antidepressants that's too frightened to go to sleep, how on earth did my Alyssa deserve any of this. I picked up my kindle and stared blankly at the same page for a good five minutes; stifling my tears as I listened to her thrash around in her room.

"MUMMY," she screamed with so much pain that my heart nearly stopped. The anguish in her voice was too much for me to take. Fuck this. Fuck the doctors, fuck the pills and fuck anyone who thinks a mother doesn't know what's best for their child. I put my kindle down and was about to dress to go and pull her back to reality but the cacophony of suffering stopped. Silence. "Alyssa," I called, there was no answer. My eyes hadn't yet re-adjusted to the darkness of the room but the slow creak of the door hinge told me that stood in my doorway was an extremely scared, urine-soaked eight year old girl in need of a cuddle. "Alyssa, honey come and get in bed with me" I said softly, fumbling my way back under the duvet. There was no noise. No movement. "Come on baby," I said pulling the duvet back and patting her space in the bed.

Then a sound made me freeze with terror. A shiver pulsed through my body as the familiar dainty patter of my daughters tiny feet on my bedroom floor was replaced with the fast-paced thuds of something heavier. I tried to scream but as fast as the sound could leave my body the figure leapt on my bed and had a hand over my mouth. And a knife at my throat.

- via Mashers87 -- reddit user