The little Maya girl with long, thick, black hair and the face of a middle aged woman knocked on my door. As I opened the solid, wooden door, the little Maya girl threw a red umbrella with a sharpened point through the crack in the door. It whizzed past my face, brushing my cheek and stuck into the chest of a man standing behind me.
"That was for you," she sneered as a smile crossed her face and insanity danced in her black eyes.
Distraction crossed my face and the little Maya girl reached up and took a chunk of my blond hair in her hand and yanked down. Pain shot out of my scalp and with a jolt, I woke up, my head aching.
Again, I heard a tapping coming from the door of the bedroom and a shuffling sound as if there was a little girl or animal or ghost in the closet near the door. And again, I curled up, remained totally still and tense, watching the darkness turn to light under my covers. I felt like I was seven years old again.