I see her clearly. She is just standing there and staring at me. Her dark hair falling around her pale face, and those frightened eyes almost piercing me. A thin bloodstream runs from her right temple and down her cheek. There is something she is trying to say to me, but all that I grasp is a half-choked: *H*elp me!

Then she stretches her arms towards me. I try to get a hold of her hands but I only brush her fingertips. Everything becomes completely black.

Only her hoarse "Help me!" gets stuck in the air.

Am I awake or am I dreaming?

I lie with my eyes closed on the bed, freezing, and can feel my heart pounding hard against my chest. My throat is dry. I'm afraid to open my eyes because she is in the room. Is it her, sitting on the bedside and is stroking me on the cheek right now? No, I need to stop it now!

You know  ... when you wake up in the middle of the night, it's freezing cold in your room, you're shaking, teeth scraping, your blanket laying on the floor, and you have a strong feeling that she, the little girl, from your dream, is the one who pulled it from you? Oh, you probably don't know the last part? But I do. It's not enough with it being very terrifying, it actually pretty annoying too. I almost never get a whole night of sleep anymore, because she does it every single night: Stepping into my dreams and standing there with her sorrowful eyes, looking at me, while she shouts something that I don't hear.

In the beginning, I felt sorry for her. but now, I feel almost sorry for myself. It's really disturbing.

How do I get rid of her?

I take a few deep breaths, its soothing. Then I hold my breath and get it together, forcing my eyes to open, while slowly exhaling. At first, I don't see anything, everything is completely black. I stay lying still as if spell-bound, while I look out for any movement in the dark. Is anyone here?

I blindly reach for my phone.

Now is enough. I'm going crazy. I also have a feeling, that she hides my stuff. For example, I placed my phone on the beer box, that I got from my uncle Johny as a Christmas gift, and is standing right beside my bed. I just know, that I placed it there...but now it is gone. Verschwunden. Danm it. Now I can't even see what time it is, but she usually shows up the first time between 12 and 12:30.

I can hear Welly flap crazy with his wings, and now begins jabbing: “Ciao Bella, Ciao Bella”

Welly is my budgerigar, and guess who named him? Jully, my little sister, who is as annoying as a little sister is when you are 16 and she is 13. Welly is also starting to get uneasy at night that he ordinarily never did. In the morning, his small, blue feathers will lay all over the cage. He is a pretty talkative budgerigar. other than “Ciao Bella” he says “Buongiorno”, ”Buona Notte”, and a lot of Italian cusswords. Among others is “Va fan culo”, it sounds funny, but it's not, at least not when Italians are around. I don't even want to explain what it means, it's totally disgusting. Italians can become pretty creative when they cuss. He can also say “porca puttana” and “stronzo”. It is SO primitive. That's all that Jully and dad taught him. My dad is half Italian, that's why his name is Marco. His mother, my grandma, Nonna Rita, who I gratefully inherited from, my honey brown eyes.

I tried to talk with my mom about the girl, that interrupts my night sleep. When it all began, I was naturally scared. extremely scared.

Who wouldn't?

So I revealed it to my mom and described in detail about the girl in my dreams, and that I had a sensation it was more than a dream. That she really pulled my blanket from on top of me and was in my room.

How it went? Nope! My mother studied phycology in highschool. So she concluded quickly, that this girl symbolized that childhood, that I was saying goodbye to and that I don't wanna let go. That's why I couldn't reach the girl's hands (!).

On the other hand, my mom grabbed both my hands, looked me deep in the eyes and said:

It time to let go of the child, Maya!

She said that- in all seriousness! Yet she continued in the same sentimental tone:

Maya, remember, no matter what, you can come to me. I will always be here for you and help you... Sweety.

Then she pulled me in a lame hug. And right there\, the movie cracked\, I mean\, it got awkward and transnational. I couldn't tell her that\, she had just proved that I couldn't use her for a f***.  Like\, I'm  16! So\, of course\, I still hang on the little girl.

Moreover, my grandma -my mom's mom- had just died when the "girl" started coming in at night. I loved my grandma dearly. And then she just died.  She fell ill with some kind of aphorism in the brain, the doctors said. Or was it called apoplexy?  It was brain hemorrhage anyway.

When the girl came at night, I thought it could be my grandma's spirit or something like that. Or wished it was. But grandma had blond hair when she was a kid and was a little chubby, but the girl from my dreams is thin and has long dark hair, so it didn't make any sense. My grandma's name is Eja.

...I have no idea whether the girl from my dreams has a name.

My name is Maya by the way, or that's what I get called, my real name is Amaya. It is because of Nonna Rita that I am baptized -Catholic- Amaya Magdalena. My little sister is baptized Anna-Guilia. my mom gave us those nicknames, that I'm deeply thankful for.

Someone with both friends and boyfriends, the type to plan their wedding with their best friend while promising each other eternal fidelity, is not me. I don't have those types of friends. I only see them in movies and read about in books. My experience with friendships is a whole other. Until now, there isn't someone I became fond of for a long time. And boyfriends ... I'm not there yet.

Maybe I'm weird. I think I'm weird. Or is it just because I feel different and "paint myself in a corner" as my mom says.

I don't think I paint myself anywhere.

However, I read a lot, and then I gather wise words. When I stumble on them, I write them down so I can remember them. And yes, I like to go and brag a little about it. It sounds cool when you like Einstein quotes, for example, this one I found on the internet:

Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe.

But when, I quoted it for Stella, one day in the classroom, but she looked at me like I was the idiot here, not her.

I also stumbled on the old, greek philosopher Aristotle:

Friendship is a single soul dwelling in two bodies.

I wrote that down in my math notebook. This, I have no experience with, but I think is something magnificent about that quote. I, of course, googled Aristotle and via Wikipedia, found the following:

Aristotle  Greek: (Ἀριστοτέλης (384–322 BC) was a Greek philosopher and polymath during the Classical period in Ancient Greece. Along with Plato, he is regarded as the one who has had the greatest influence on the thoughts of the Western world.

I don't need to know more about him, nor should one exaggerate their wisdom.

In my history book, I wrote Amor Vincit Omnia, that's Latin and means Love Conquers All. My dad wrote it to my mom, ones they broke up. A card with those words on a bouquet with at least 100 red roses. Then they got back together, they still are, thank god.

Jully, my little sister, is both pretty sweet and very annoying. Decent, popular, many friends, pretty, good at soccer. One of those charmings boyish-girls, who will be thrown in a kids-movie. It's only the red hair she's missing.

Philosophy and wise word doesn't interest her.

So under my "Carpe Diem" sign on my door, I wrote, "go away Jully". I don't think she read it.

"Carpe Diem" aka "seize the day" - living in the moment, I can identify with, even though it's hard. It's from the movie Dead Poets Society that my mom is obsessed with. Okay, movies, I would love to have a Robin Williams- type as a teacher and go to a school that looks like a castle, with students in uniform and the whole caboodle. Pure Harry Potter. And yes, I was one of these nerds that got extremely disappointed on my 11th birthday. Sat, god help me, a whole day and waited vainly for a letter from Hogwarts.

Well, here I lay in my bed with starting excessive thoughts. Do you know... when you're lying and are a little afraid and can't fall asleep, or maybe don't dare to, because you know that a little girl with mournful eyes is waiting, as soon as you step in dreamland?

So you lay there and can't stop your thoughts in any way. Thoughts spinning around in an endless, confusing loop, and gets more and more gloomy; bombs, war, terror, global warming, melting icebergs, dying polar bears, tsunamis, cancerous waves ... Well, there is plenty of anxiety to choose from.

It's even worse when you have those numerous existential thoughts: Where you're just such a tiny insignificant dim, in a bed, in a house, in Denmark, in Europe, on a small planet floating around out there now, or is it with a god or nowhere? Are you just dead when you die? And where do you go then? Ugh, this could make you insane...

These are the kind of thoughts that sometimes malign me.

What is even a thought? I read once on a Gajol-box that I'll never forget:  I have now been a brain surgeon for 35 years, but I have yet to see a thought.

Very thoughtful.

My eyelids are getting heavier. I'm yawning. My body twitches, I'm exactly in the middle of sleep and full consciousness.

Holy crap, is it her that's standing and staring at me?

I'm freezing, and not fully asleep yet.

I squint in the dark. Is it her, that's sitting in the flowered armchair, that I inherited from my grandma? Or is it just all the clothes that I didn't put away yet?

I hate it. Now the real anxiety is for real creeping in. I hate the dark but refuse to sleep with the light. After all, my grandma taught me a quote from a french philosopher, Albert Camus:

"at the end of the darkness there is unavoidable light, which we already can glimpse and we simply have to fight to reach."

"Maya, get up now! I won't bother anymore. Get up! how in the world can you even sleep without your blanket?"

That's my mom

And yes, I'm freezing. But I actually slept heavily after a hectic night, where she has been at play several times.

I know, deep inside, that she is only a dream. My dream. My wild fantasy. Maybe, after all, I don't want to read more R. L. Stine.

Gosh, I'm tired.

Welly has also been roaming around in his cage, and there are feathers and bird food spread everywhere on the floor.

I just need to go to bed early tonight. I have no idea how I'm gonna manage to get through the day.

My dad found my phone in the laundry basket... But I just know I didn't put it there! I remember rather clearly, that I placed it to charge in my room, yesterday afternoon. Like I always do. Those lifted eyebrows and the "you know better" look, my dad sends me.

I know, that there is no girl, it just me that has gone mad. My mom talked about "contacting the school therapist". She doesn't like the way I think and talk about the little girl. Maybe, in reality, it's a pretty good idea.

But, come' on, therapy. Never!

My mom made smoothies for breakfast. It's her brand new, fresh fruit and a tiny bit of olive oil in "so the vitamins attach". It was tolerably fine in the beginning when she still put sugar in it. But now, she is obsessed with health, so its smoothies with no sugar,- and honestly, you get really tired of so much fruit every single morning. I would prefer a toast with cheese, but lately, the white bread is banned at home. I don't dare to tell her how bad her smoothies are, for she looks so proud and housewife-like when she stands with all the organic fruits around her. She is stressed and will for sure get tired soon of all the healthiness. That's how it goes.

She is a good mother. It could've been much worse.

"God, there is no cold cuts," she says and looks resignedly at the fridge. My dad pulls automatically wallet and passes money for both me and Jully.

"Buy from the cafeteria" He just says before he's out the door. What I like about my dad is, that there is no messing around with him. Not many words but simply actions. My mom is completely the opposite. So am I. My dad and Jully have something special together, and it can irritate me. Yeah yeah, call it siblings jealousy.

"Jully, you ran a goddam good Cooper test yesterday!"

That's something my dad would say to Jully over breakfast, while I and my mom would look like two big question marks.

"Yeah, she ran 233 meters longer than last time" he continued with excitement. "Its really far for a girl in her age."

"Oh," I say, and my mom asks if it's fine she takes the last smoothie (yes, bon appetit!). Then my dad and Jully send a burnt glance to each other, and with no words, they signal, that it's miserable to be in a family with only two sports ignoramuses.

Jully is dad's girl, for certain. My dad was once a soccer player, nothing big, just in KB's club. Now he's training my little sister's team. And she is excellent. And I... hardly know the rules.

Oh, danm, those thoughts... the time is running, and I'm late. I should've been in class 3 minutes ago.

Oof, where are my keys?