Why Cybil Makes Her Bed

Once upon a time, there was a lovely, precocious young girl named Cybil. Cybil was very special: she was Magickal! She sometimes saw things that other people couldn't; or she knew something would happen before it did; and sometimes she knew things that no ordinary eight year old could know.

Sometimes, just sometimes, when she tried very hard, she could even make things happen!

Her parents told her it was all because she had Magick in her blood–her parents were Witches and so was she. Her father was a very wise man; he told her that Magick was all around her, everywhere in the world. As she grew older she would learn to use her Magick to do great things. But until then, he told her, she should just enjoy being a little girl living a Magickal life.

One night, Cybil had a very bad nightmare. It scared her so badly she woke up crying for her father.

"Daddy!"

Her father was at her side in moments, scooping her into his arms and holding her protectively against his chest.

"Oh, Sweetheart," he rumbled softly, stroking her beautiful chestnut hair. "Did you have a bad dream?"

Cybil nodded against his chest, calmed by the wild scent of her father. No harm could come to her when he held her close.

"There were little winged things all over the bed, Daddy!" she said. "They flew all around me and pulled my hair and pinched my skin and they poked at Jacky!" Jacky was Cybil's stuffed rabbit, a toy most people thought grotesque with its wild eyes, leering grin and sharp teeth; but Cybil loved Jacky more than any of her other toys.

"It sounds like you have imps, Sweetheart," Her father said thoughtfully.

"Imps? What are those?" Cybil asked, rubbing the tears from her eyes.

"Mean little bastards. They like to pick on children, especially little girls."

"But why, Daddy?" Cybil cried plaintively. "I didn't do anything to them!"

Her father shrugged. "I'm sure they have their reasons, something that makes them think what they do is okay. But they're still buttheads."

Buttheads made Cybil smile. "What do I do, Daddy?" she asked. "How do I make them go away?"

"I'm not sure," he replied, "Maybe you should use your Magick to find out, what do you think?"

The truth was, her Father knew exactly why the imps were bothering his daughter; but as much as he wanted to fix the problem for her, he knew she would learn more by figuring it out herself.

Cybil scrunched up her face in that adorable way children do when they want their parents to know they are thinking very hard. Finally she said, "They attacked me in my dream, so does that mean I can do something to them in my dream, too?"

"My daughter can do anything she puts her mind to." Her father smiled and kissed her forehead. Then he tucked her in next to Jacky and turned out the light as he left, sure that his little girl would figure out the problem she was facing.

Once her father was gone, Cybil snuggled up to her stuffed rabbit and closed her eyes, preparing to dreamwalk.

Dreamwalking was a Magick her father had taught her. By concentrating very hard, she could dream without falling all the way asleep. Sometimes she lost her concentration and would fall asleep anyway, but tonight she was determined not to.

As she concentrated, Cybil felt her body relax until it felt like she was floating, like she was drifting on an ocean tide. That was how she knew she had achieved dreamwalking.

Opening her eyes, Cybil saw she was still in her bedroom, but she knew she was dreamwalking because she could see the room perfectly even though there were no lights.

Above her swarmed dozens of tiny creatures, each no bigger than a newborn kitten. They had leathery bat wings, long fingers and toes tipped with sharp claws, and mouths filled with pointy teeth. They chittered like evil weasels as they swooped down to pull at her hair and pinch her skin with their sharp fingers. This time, though, Cybil was not afraid: she grabbed Jacky by his long floppy ears and walloped one of the mean imps across his mean little head!

The imp crashed onto the bed and the rest of the imps scattered, chittering in surprise.

Cybil lifted the imp by its foot and shook it vigorously. "Why are you picking on me?" she demanded.

The little imp snarled at her and tried to bite her fingers, but Cybil shook it so hard it squealed.

"Stop trying to bite me–it's not nice!" she yelled at it.

"It's no use, they never listen." A soft, warm voice next to her said. Cybil let out a squeal of her own and let go of the imp. The little menace tried to fly away, but it was so dizzy it crashed into a wall and knocked itself silly!

Sitting cross-legged on Cybil's pillow wearing a blue silk robe was a small, wizened old man. He was barley larger than the imps themselves!

"Oh!" exclaimed Cybil. "Who are you?"

"I am known by many Names to many people," replied the tiny old man, "but you may call me Hypnos." His voice was as soft as a half-remembered dream.

"Like the Pokémon?" asked Cybil.

Hypnos smiled widely. "Not quite, child. I am the God of Sleep and Dreams."

"If You're the God of Dreams, why did You send these imps after me?" Cybil demanded.

Hypnos shook His head. "I do not send imps after anyone," He replied. "These spiritual pests make their nests near the Gates of Dream wherever My temples are not honored; there they feed on the fears and anxieties of sleepers."

"Where are your temples?"

"You're sitting on one of them right now." Hypnos said, His eyes like deep, black pools.

Cybil looked down and suddenly realized what the God meant. "If you're the God of Sleep and Dreams, then Your temples are beds!" she exclaimed.

Hypnos nodded. "When you go to sleep–and even when you dreamwalk–you enter My realm. But when My temples are not honored, imps make their nests here between the Land of Sleep and the Gates of Dream to feed on your fears." His black eyes moved to the imp that was still crumpled against the wall, quite unconscious.

"My Daddy teaches me to honor all the Gods," Cybil said in a small voice. "I didn't mean to dishonor You or Your temple."

"Of course you didn't, child," said Hypnos. "I have seen your dreams. You are a very special girl and new to the Magick blossoming inside you. Tonight, when you dreamwalked into My realm to face your tormentors, I knew you would listen to what I would say."

"Ummm, Mr. Hypnos?" Cybil said, "Could You please tell me how I dishonored Your temple so I can make it right?"

Hypnos smiled gently. "Cybil, when was the last time you made your bed?"

Cybil's eyes went wide. She hadn't made her bed in three days! Her parents had asked her to, and she'd meant to, but she'd been so busy she kept forgetting!

Seeing the realization on Cybil's face, Hypnos explained: "When you make your bed, you honor My temple. That is why a well-made bed is so comfortable after a long day, and why it is not so comfortable if you left it unmade all day. Do you understand?"

Cybil nodded.

"Good. Now let's send these imps away and I'll escort you through the Gates of Dream."

With a wave of His hand, Hypnos banished the imps back to the darkness from which they'd come. Then the God of Sleep and Dreams guided Cybil into that happy dreamworld where anyone can fly and all things are possible.

The next morning, Cybil's father watched from the doorway with a proud smile on his face as his lovely daughter made her bed. From that day forth, he knew, she would never again neglect the temple of Hypnos.