Page 5 of My Sleep Paralysis Demon

She giggled. “Yes, you do. And a good night’s sleep.”

I nodded, pushing my pink hair back from my face. I swear that soon the stress will strip my hair of any color.

“Have you ever tried talking to the demon?”

“I can’t talk or move. All I can do is try to move my toes or hands, and that breaks the nightmare. What would I even say to him? Please leave me alone, monster? Don’t eat me?”

She shrugged. “Maybe tell him to keep his hands—claws—to himself.”

I snorted. “Yeah, right… He’s touched me before but never hurt me. I think I jolted awake too quickly.”

“Honestly, some people wouldn’t believe you if you hadn’t gotten this wound.” She pointed out. “Turning off the light, you can’t prove. This you can. You’re not crazy now.”

I rolled my eyes. All my stories of him touching me or messing with my room seemed crazy. I stopped telling my family, as all they did was make fun of me. I stood, wincing and catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror I had in the office.

Dark bags were under my dark brown eyes. My strawberry-pink hair was in a wild bun. I could see half of my body, apron hugging my curves.

I looked away, giving Bex a fake smile. “Let’s get ready.”

She nodded, stepping from the office. We worked well together, barely having to speak to each other. Music blared all morning as we both did our thing.

The store was busy the moment we opened. I worked at the counter while Bex stayed in the back to finish the online orders.

“Hello!” I beamed to a customer who had just entered. It was later in the day, the hype dying down a bit, though we had a few people sitting in the cafe area.

“Hi,” the guy grumbled, looking at all the pastries in our glass case.

“Welcome to Starlight Bakery. What can I do for you?”

He glanced at me, and for some reason, I could feel he wasn’t in the mood for my personality. Fine by me. I didn’twant to act or pretend anymore. “Give me the double chocolate cupcake.”

I nodded, grabbed a glove, slipped it on, and put the chocolate cupcake in a single box for him. I rang him up. “Six dollars and twenty-five cents.”

He frowned more. “Six dollars for a cupcake?”

“Yes, sir. Homemade cupcakes every day.”

“For a fucking cupcake? Walmart has a pack for that price.”

“You are welcome to go there,” I answered in a monotone. I was so glad I was the boss and could tell customers off.

“Fucking fat bitch!” he snarled. Quickly, he grabbed the cupcake and threw the open box right at me.

I flinched but did nothing to stop the cupcake from flying in my face. It slid down my apron, box clattering to the tilted floor. Icing stuck to my chin, neck, and chest.

As quickly as he came in, he was gone.

I stared at the door he went out of.That was a first…I turned to move to the back, avoiding the customers’ concerned eyes.

Bex looked up from icing cookies. “What just happened?”

“Unhappy guy. Watch the front?”

“Are you okay?”

I just nodded. But I felt my eyes sting with tears.

“Okay. Get me if you need me,” she said, setting down her piping bag and moving to the front for me.

---