Short Stories

Paralyzed

You never know what true fear is until you've experienced it. For me, it was the first and every subsequent time I experienced sleep paralysis.

The first time, I simply couldn't move; I couldn't move, nor could I call for help. After a few petrifying moments, I could finally move again, but I refrained from trying to return to sleep-I was too terrified that it would happen again.

The second time it happened, I still couldn't move or speak, but this time I couldn't breathe, either. Yet, I could feel something sitting on my chest, able to feel its repugnant breath billowing over my face. I didn't open my eyes until I felt the sun on my skin, even though I felt the weight leave my chest hours ago. I didn't sleep that night, either.

It had been weeks before any other episodes had occurred, so I never told anyone about the two nights that I couldn't move. Thinking back now, I think that I probably seen someone sooner than I did about this sleep paralysis.

It wasn't until my next episode that I said anything about it. Like the previous times, I couldn't move or speak, but hear? Oh, I could hear perfectly fine, but how I wish I couldn't. I could hear footsteps coming towards me. Normally this wouldn't be so concerning, but I could hear the snoring of my mother and father in the next room. As an only child, my prime suspects had alibis. The next few moments were spent frantically darting my gaze around the room to pinpoint the source, and futilely trying to scream for help.

I spoke to a doctor.

There really wasn't much that they could do. The only piece of advice they gave me was to improve my sleep hygiene, so I did.

Finally, for months, I was able to sleep throughout the night without any interruptions. Until now.

I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't scream. I couldn't do anything whatsoever to help myself.

There was hand around my throat, and I could see the creature from before. It was sitting on my chest, grinning menacingly at me.

I was so fixated on fear by the creature, that I wasn't able to save myself until it was too late.

A hand wrapped around each of my ankles, dragging me out of my bed and into a deep black abyss.

As I lie here, hearing the rancorous laughter of demons and the distant sound of human screams, I implore you. Please. Don't fall asleep, and if you do, don't wake up. At least, not by yourself. Don't believe when they say that it's just in your head, because it's not. These demons around me aren't in my mind. They're real, and I won't be their last. I am one in a line of many.

Don't.

Fall.

Asleep.