Cyan’s mother awakes the next morning; her daughter’s health heavily on her mind.

She approaches Cyan’s closed door, but she decides not to knock this time.

She slowly opens the door, “Cyan,” she says softly, “baby how are you feeling?”

 But there is no answer, just Cyan lying on her back; her eyes gazing up at the ceiling.

Cyan’s brown eyes, are open quit wide, as the tears continue to flow.

Her deep brown eyes, show emptiness inside, and the absence of a young girl’s soul.

“Oh dear god,” Cyan’s mother exclaim as she runs over to her daughter’s aid.

 She notices the tears in her daughter’s eyes and the bruise on her wrists as her daughter she surveyed.

“Oh god… what’s wrong with my baby,” she cries out as the tears of sorrow begins to surge.

She cries out loud as she begins to plea that from this catatonic state her daughter will emerge.

She holds Cyan tightly in her bosoms, “Baby wake up… please Cyan… wake up,” she cries.

At first, there were no signs of life and then suddenly… there came a slight flicker in the young girl’s eyes.

“What happened mama,” Cyan struggles to speak; her voice like that of someone from the dead.

Her mother, excited to see that Cyan was alright, said nothing… she held her tight as they sat their on the bed.

“Mama, why is this happening to me,” asks Cyan as she turns to her mother for a reply.

“I don’t know baby,” Cyan’s mother responds while the tears from her face she tries to dry.

“Something’s happening to you at night sweetie, what that is… I’m not quite sure.”

“But what ever it is I’m going to find out, I promise; no more of these nights you shall endure.”

Later that morning, Cyan’s mother took her to the hospital; her bruises she wanted them to be checked.

The bruises were bruises nothing strange about that; but what was strange was something Cyan’s mother didn’t expect.

The bruises that were inflicted on Cyan’s wrists; they show signs that the young girl was restrained.

But those weren’t the only bruises on Cyan’s body that neither her nor her mother could explain.

“Ma’am,” the doctor said to Cyan’s mother, “I’m sorry, but this will have to be documented.”

That day, Cyan and her mother were questioned by child services; in a day that felt like it would not have ended.

But the day did come to an end and eventually… Cyan and her mother were able to go home.

That night, Cyan’s mother had her sleep in her bed with her; they both were afraid to be alone.

Before they went to bed; Cyan’s mother took from the kitchen, one of her large kitchen stake knives.

She placed it next to her bed; if someone tries anything to night, she’ll make sure they don’t leave… alive.

As always, the night started off calm, Cyan’s mother watched as Cyan felt deep into her sleep.

Cyan’s mother was afraid to close her eyes, but after so long… she could feel her eyes beginning to get weak.

Slowly, Mr. Sandman crept up on Cyan’s mother, before she knew it… she was lost deep in her dreams.

Cyan’s mother held her close in her arms and for a moment… the night was quiet and serene.

Then, in moves the cold chill, its breeze as deadly as it has been the nights before.

Cyan gives off a slight quiver, she knew this was it… she could feel it deep in her core.

As the darkness moves in, Cyan turns to her mother for help.

But to her surprise, Cyan lies in her mother’s bed… alone; she is once again by her self. 

“Mama,” the young girl cries out, her soft voice filled with tears.

“Mama,” she continues to cry as the coolness from the dark creature draws near.

She’s lost in a frantic; her body still carries the pain from the torments of the other nights.

She knows in her heart that she has to do something; this time Cyan wasn’t going down without a fight.

She crawls to the side of her mothers bed, were on the nightstand, the knife gives of a small reflection of hope.

Suddenly she feels something grab hold of her neck; the life out of her it then begins to choke.

She struggles desperately for air as she tries to reach out for the knife.

Cyan grips the blade in her hand as she can feel the weakening of her life.

With the last of her strength, Cyan swings as hard as she can until she couldn’t swing no more.

Then, there is a calm; just the faint beating of Cyan’s heart could be heard… that and the breathing on the floor.

Cyan creeps to the edge of the bed with the knife grip tightly in her hand as she trembles from the trauma.

A shock comes over Cyan’s face; what she sees is worst than any nightmare, as she cries out softly… “Mama!”