Sleep Paralysis

You wake in the midnight darkness of your room, adrenaline flush in your system from the terror of your nightmare riddled sleep. You struggle to open your eyes but the leaden veil of sleep lays oppressively heavy crushing the strength from your body leaving you empty. Unbidden the thought arises that you have been restrained or drugged, the image assaulting you with waves of frustration and panic. Inhaling as deeply as you can manage, fighting to maintain calm, the feeling of weight on your chest is preventing you from taking a complete breath. With each failed attempt to regain some sense of control in your own body you are left feeling more helpless, your eyes grow hot with tears which well up but even they lack the strength to flow.

It feels like you’re trapped in the prison made from your own body for hours, though in the silence and dark you have no sense of the passage of time. After the longest time you swear you feel a twitch in your fingers and you realise that at some point your eyes had managed to partially open without your noticing. Emboldened you struggle again without success before surrendering to the futility once more.
Beyond the door a nearly inaudible creak pierces your heart with an icy shard of terror. You imagine that there is someone in your home, here where you should be alone, as you are unable to move and utterly helpless. Another creak, closer this time, and louder. You fight with every fibre of your soul, pleading and crying within your own mind to the implacable indifference of your body. Betrayal, more painful for its source. Fear, discomfort and emptiness, define your being. Just beyond your door you feel the presence come to a pause, the subtle shift in the floorboards, in the air pressure, all the more obvious in the utter isolation of the night.

The door creaks, gently. So soft and subtle that it almost could be your imagination. From the corner of your barely opened eyes you can see it drifting open, the glacial momentum every bit as imperceptible as the sound. Surreal and dreamlike, if you can’t move your, you wish at least you could close your eyes again, or look away, anything to escape the indescribable horror you feel just out of sight. A single hot tear streams down the side of your face.
You watch the door as it creeps agonisingly open with steadily building anxiety growing in your chest, seeking to burst from your throat but unable to form a whisper, let alone a scream. A hint of movement stirs in the shadows that surround the door, almost completely open now, only the complete darkness prevents you from seeing it. The shadows undulate in rhythmic motions, growing steadily as they approach the foot of your bed.

A heavy imprint pushes down on the mattress. You feel the weight on your feet as it climbs with the same unrelentingly slowness that opened the door. A flicker of something in a sliver of moonlight that peaks through the window, what could have been a hand or a claw appears for only a second before being lost to the shadow once more. The weight had crested your legs, the all unthinkable nature of what is happening to you blurs the sensations into a storm of abject terror, culminating with the mass comes to rest upon your chest. You cannot breath, hyperventilation and the asphyxiation crush strangle you and you feel spots appear in your vision one by one blacking out even the faintest traces of light. In the last moment of fading vision you witness a face approaching you, the hideous grin and foul breath sparks with in you the will to battle one last time to throw off this paralysis. Screaming and thrashing in your mind, you feel a twitch in your fingers, heat flowing upwards from them enters your chest and shatters the spike impaling your heart and with a scream you tear yourself from the mattress and…

It is morning. Drenched in sweat and dizzy from your rapid breaths, you look around. The door to your room is closed, the light shins thinly through the cracks in your curtains and you are alone. The tears finally come and your sob bitterly in your bed.

Author: Zairron

I'm writing to build a habit, practice, and be creative.

2 thoughts on “Sleep Paralysis”

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