Ever since I was a kid, I’ve had to deal with the most unsettling sleep paralysis. I’m going to recount my episode here.
At seven years old, I had an episode where I woke up with cold sweats and my clothes ripped off my body. I shared a room with my ten year old brother and tried calling out for his help. When I tried to let out a scream, nothing came out. I prayed that someone would come help me. I needed to know who ripped my clothes off.
I don’t know how, but my brother woke up to come and help. He picked my clothes off the floor and started to put them back on my body. I asked him who took my clothes off. He looked at me without saying a word. I kept asking him what happened, and he kept giving me a blank, expressionless face. I figured he was just a bit weary from being woken up so abruptly. I got my clothes back on and got back under the covers.
About two minutes later, I heard my door creak open. I heard footsteps going towards my brothers’ bed. I was too scared to look up from under the covers and just hoped whoever it was would just leave. The footsteps continued until they just abruptly stopped. I still felt the presence of the person in the room with us.
A few minutes later, I heard footsteps again. This time they were coming towards me. I tried not to move a muscle thinking that would help. The footsteps kept inching closer to the left side of my bed. Now, whoever was in the room was just inches away from my bed. I could practically hear them breathing.
I build up the courage to say something. After taking a deep breath, I faintly said from under the covers “who is it?”
“Why are you still awake?”
It was my mom.
“I had a nightmare.” I replied.
“You know those things aren’t real. Go to bed, you have school in the morning.”
I took a sigh of relief. I decided to give my mom a hug and just go to sleep. After all, I did have a math test the next morning. I come out of hiding from the covers and look directly at my mom. What I saw still haunts me.
My mom was dressed up as a clown with blood dripping from the sides of her mouth. She wore face paint with a frown painted on, a red clown nose and teeth sharp like the ends of a butcher knife. I was in complete shock.
“What’s wrong?” She said with the motherly voice I’m used to.
“Why are you wearing that?” I replied with my voice and body shaking.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Go back to bed.”
At this point, I realized just how strong this hallucination was. My brain was playing tricks on me. Even at seven years old, I thought I was losing my sanity.
My mom leaves the room and I was left ruminating on what just happened. I hide back under the covers and try to shake the thoughts out of my head. I still tend to do this from time to time.
I tried all night to try and get some sleep, but I just couldn’t help but think about what I just went through. At 6am, I heard footsteps coming back into my room. The door creaked open and I heard my mom yell “WAKE UP BOYS, IT’S TIME FOR SCHOOL!”
I slowly take the covers off myself and get a glimpse of my mom. There she was, no more clown outfit, just a concerned mother wanting her son’s to get up for school. I slowly sit up on the left side of my bed and stretch before planting my feet on the ground. As I stretch, I notice a round, red clown nose on the ground in front of me.
The cold sweats start again, and I can barely move my body. I slowly look up to my mom, who’s still standing at the door in our room.
“m-m-m-mom what’s that on the ground?”
She stares back at me, with a blank and expressionless face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Go back to bed.”
And so I hid back under the covers.