Yesterday Will Be Better

Chapter 1

Mika Goodwick was only seven when she started suffering from sleep paralysis. It was very unlucky for her, since sleep paralysis is very uncommon in young children. Her parents felt almost as affected as she did. They thought that maybe it was an ungodly balance to kidnap them of an otherwise perfect child. First it was the staying awake until stupid hours, then came the recurring nightmares. The 'Can I sleep in your bed with you?' after waking up in cold sweats. They knew she couldn't share a bed with mommy and daddy forever, no matter how much she wanted to.

No matter how much she needed to.

One night it all stopped. No more waking up. No more warm glasses of milk at three A.M. No tired voice in tiny footed pajamas at the end of the bed. Her parents felt a weight lift off their shoulders, 'our little girl is happy again'. And they could see it too. Mika began smiling at the breakfast table and even looked forward to bedtime stories her father would read to her. Beforehand, her mood would drop in the evening and get worse and worse the closer it got to her bedtime. Now she knew sleep wasn't her enemy. The bed-head mop of dark brown curls that covered her back and shoulders no longer said 'chaos'. Mom saw joy in Mika's caramel eyes. Dad saw a soldier back from the war in this sweet little girl. A war that he wasn't sure was over yet. He thought it was too good to be true.

He thought right.

About a month after it stopped it had started all over again. This time was worse. Every night was Russian roulette. A nightmare? Falling out of bed? Screaming in her sleep? No. What was worse about sleep paralysis was that she couldn't call mommy and daddy for help and they had no idea when it happened. If her father ever came in to check on her he just became a shadow. A figure of horror that could get her. She didn't exactly know what 'get' meant, but she knew she didn't ever want to find out. Her first experience forever haunted her.

Mika's room was a dark haze. She felt limp, like everything was real and fake all at once. She could see her window, her dresser and the door, but not as she knew it. A black vignette clouded her peripheral vision. Staring straight ahead, she saw her baby blue drapes dancing in the wind coming from the open window. Her whole body was too heavy to move as if she didn't have the will to sit up. Except she did, there was nothing she wanted more than to escape her covers and run to daddy. Save me. No matter how hard she tried. It's like her mind was cut off from her body. Nowhere to run. 

Her door became a black abyss that swallowed all traces of light and coughed up the very fragments of her nightmares. What she saw first appeared as pointy fingers clawing at the door frame. Tap, tap, tap, tap. One for every finger. She tried to scream, not even a squeal or a squeak could escape. Mika simply didn't have the breath for it, an invisible pillow smothered her mouth and nose, shutting her airways tight. Not even fear could escape her, it festered inside her head until it was just too much. It morphed further into the room blocking the doorway, drifting closer to the bed frame. No. Leave me alone. Four yellow eyes glowed almost eight feet high above the floor, towering even higher than Mika's polka-dot painted curtain pole. Yellow was no longer a happy colour, but a warning. Danger. Large, pointy legs crawled slowly beneath the figure, holding up the torso like a spider. The thick, black hairs on each of the eight legs stood on end in all different directions. Mika heard a hiss behind her, but she couldn't turn around or cover her ears. Every night, she endured the terror, never able to stop it. The creature's torso was long and scaly, half of it dragging along the carpet behind it. Everything around it became dark and faded. This is when the ringing started. A piercing shriek of tinnitus when it got a little too close to her. The ringing got louder and louder until it dinged to a stop. The ringing became screaming. Daddy, help. He's here. She could breathe again.

Mika was lucky if the nightmare ended there, sometimes the ringing went on for longer. Louder. Her father never hesitated to her rescue. After a few of these incidents he knew the drill. Lights on. Door shut. 'I'm here, just breathe.'

He tried everything. Inhalers, medication, advice forums, books on sleep conditions. Hell, they even tried therapy. He pulled his hair at the thought. Seeing Mika play amongst all of the other children in the hospital waiting room every week just sunk his heart. She wasn't like them. She couldn't be. Her mother became slightly distant when it came to Mika's condition. Not because she didn't care, but she found that two people were too much, crowding was something Mika could never handle when she was scared or stressed. 

Her father read something in a book about phobias once, about conditioning a fear into something not so bad. It was worth a try. Anything was worth it for Mika.

"It was the same as last time, Daddy." Mika murmured into her father's shoulder, little hands gripping his shirt. She had only just recovered from another episode.

"The spider-snake?"

"Mhmm."

"Well, I think he's very rude coming in here without introducing himself." Mika looked up at him with a tear stained face. "He should've at least told you his name." A soft grin crept onto his face in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"He doesn't have a name!" Mika sniffed.

"Well then!" He propped her up onto his shoulders as she erupted into fits of giggles. "We shall give him one!"

"George!" Mika cheered.

"You can't name him after me, Dear." He thought about this carefully. The name had to be non-threatening but not someone familiar. According to the book, relating your fear to someone you're familiar with could end in the child actually becoming afraid of the relation instead of overcoming the phobia. The last thing he wanted to do was allow his seven-year-old daughter to become afraid of him. That would be a nightmare for him, not just Mika. "I have an idea." George bolted from Mika's room down to the kitchen. George sat her down on the island in the center of the kitchen, her fluffy socks swung back and forth off the edge of the counter.

George searched the cabinets, shuffling around several jars and tins.

"There must be some left..." George reached to the back of the cabinet. "Aha!"

Mika blinked. "Noodles?" She waited for an explanation.

"I think-" George placed the pack of dehydrated noodles on her lap. "-his name should be Noodle. He is a snake after all." Mika's pale hands held onto the packet. Noodles were her favourite food, worst case scenario, she'd stop eating them. Not a bad thing considering the high traces of fat and salt that George knew for sure was in them.

"Mister."

"Huh?"

"Mr Noodle." Mika repeated in a low voice.

George's heart sank. He could tell Mika didn't want to talk about this anymore. Being awake was supposed to be her escape from this monster, he didn't intend to keep reminding her of it.

"Mr Noodle it is." He took the packet from Mika's hands and set it aside. He'd put them away later.

"Daddy, what time is it?" Mika said, rubbing her eyes.

"Six-thirty." For once, George was actually grateful it was almost time for the school run. This would take everything off Mika's mind, there were too many occurrences where she woke up from an attack in the middle of the night and wasn't even able to go back to sleep.

With that, Mika got ready for another day of school. During the month where her sleep problems subsided, her parents figured it was about time she started getting picked up by the school bus. She almost hurt herself running up to the bus door every day for that month. Like she had been waiting her whole life to get on that bus. In reality she was waiting her whole life to just have a normal one. 30 days of being a normal kid was good for her, she made new friends, paid attention in class more. Of course, to a parent, these are all positive things but not the most important. Mika's parents weren't happy because she was doing well in school. They were happy because Mika was, and these little things were proof that Mika was truly a joyful girl, the world just seemed to want to take that joy away from her. We all know that nothing lasts forever. Even Mika, a seven-year old with a good family, a good house and good friends, knew that nothing lasts forever. She hoped to god that the monster would also be one of those things. After 30 days her luck ran out, and it hasn't stopped since.

Mika grew up  knowing that this nightmare in particular, would never go away.