july 16, 2022 9:57am
i don’t quite know how to start this. i’ve been hesitant to share this story for years, only telling my very closest friends if the subject came up. basically, about three years ago, i met my sleep paralysis demon.
now let me say quickly, i know how this sounds. sleep paralysis is not an uncommon occurrence, and many people have dealt with a monster in the closet when it happens. hell, half the posts on this site are about some form of it. but if you bear with me here, i can explain to you why my situation is different.
it started four years ago, i was a senior in high school. i’ve dealt with chronic insomnia my whole life, and around this time, i was experimenting with melatonin. classic story, right? so i fell asleep around 1, early for me, with my lamp still on. i was quickly awoken, though, into a sleep paralysis state. rather than seeing an apparition or something in my room, i was met only with the strangest and most sinister feeling i have ever experienced: something was trying to keep me asleep. something malicious, angry. i tried to fight it, feeling my consciousness being physically dragged back under the water. eventually, through sheer force of willpower, i managed to push out the smallest whimper of a yelp. immediately, i awoke, and the sensation was gone. terrified, throat hoarse despite barely making a squeak, i checked my phone. it had been barely half an hour. i looked ahead at my mirrored closet doors, and in the reflection, saw my room exactly as it was when i got in bed to begin with. trying to pull myself together, i debated going and waking my mother. but for all the courage i could muster, i couldn’t get myself to move. despite nothing out of the ordinary reflecting back at me, i couldn’t shake the feeling that i was being watched. i stared at the black space under my bed for a few minutes, just waiting for a pair of eyes to pop open under there. but nothing happened. eventually, i managed to creep my hand over to my phone, and i texted my mother. she often wakes up in the night to pee, and i hoped to god it was one of those nights. the text was simple, “please come here, i’m scared.” i felt like a child, crying for my mommy because i had a bad dream. but that feeling of eyes boring into the back of my neck wouldn’t leave. hours later, i eventually fell asleep, a youtube video playing on my phone to cut the deafening silence.
and that was it, nothing happened after that. for about six months, that is. then it happened again. then a couple months later, i believe around graduation time, it happened twice within the span of a couple days. senior year had been taxing on my mental health to begin with, and this did absolutely nothing to help. i spent that week sleeping through my first two periods, which thankfully were both art courses with a teacher who loved me. every night i would lie awake, watching videos or jerking off or whatever the hell i had to do to try and calm myself down. sleep is elusive enough for me as is, and this made any kind of rest a fantasy. then, on the last night of that week, i had a dream. now let me preface this by saying, my dreams are weird as is. some people have those dreams where they go to the mall, or to school, or something mundane. my dreams have always been full movies. alternate universe, cinematography, plot lines, everything. but this time, something… weird happened. on this particular sunday night, after a few days of quiet, i had managed to actually get some decent rest. i tried a melatonin again, as it had been mostly working for me in between these experiences, and was out like a light within an hour. and then that night in my dream, i woke up.
i’d had some experience with lucid dreaming before, but the dream would end almost immediately every time. this night, however, i didn’t. i was totally lucid, and yet still in my dream. the exact details of the dream are long lost to time, but i remember that same feeling returning. something was keeping me asleep. the moment i realized this was happening, everyone around me turned. their eyes fixed on me, and anger sparked on their faces. i had become aware, and whatever this… force was, it was not happy. it was as if the alarm had rung, and suddenly, chaos erupted. they rushed me, and i was barely able to avoid capture. i was running for my life, a mob of people (some who i knew, some friends of mine) chasing me down. in my terror i tried to yell, and was hit with a sudden realization. just like before in my sleep paralysis, i couldn’t speak. and so, as i ran, i pushed with every bit of my strength to get any kind of noise out of my mouth. it had worked before, and it was the only option i had. the crowd was gaining on me, with arms hands and fingers stretched out to the breaking point. just as i felt a fingernail graze my back, a squeak pushed through my lips. immediately, i was alone in my bed. breathing heavily, i checked my phone. one hour since i had clicked off the screen to roll over and sleep. i was heaving, feeling like i had just run a half marathon with no water. that time, i called my mom on the phone. she came in and held me as i cried like a baby, blubbering about a nightmare.
about a month later, i called my sister, ellie, and asked if i could take her old bedroom. she had been away at college for a couple years now, and her room was bigger than mine. she said yes, and within a day i was painting the walls. she had kept them a shade of lavender, but i chose a light, almost white, mint blue. i had more space, a beautiful view of the yard, and more closet room. i was set to start community college at the end of the summer, and life was good.
and it was, for a while. but then, around mid-november, it happened again. and then again a couple weeks later. and then again the next week. every night the same as that first dream, every time i woke up out of breath and scared. i told my mom, as my dad has never believed in the paranormal, and she was very nervous. conversations about anything supernatural rarely came up in our house, my parents are devoutly christian and believe that anything paranormal is evil and not to be touched. my dad has no time for any conversation of it, but it came up with my mom once a few years ago. she told me something i’ll never forget.
we were on vacation for summer, sitting in the hotel lobby of the marriott resort in palm desert. my parents got sucked into one of those timeshare loops that were rampant in the early 2000’s, and were never able to sell it, so we just went for one week every summer. it was a pretty good deal anyways. somehow, ghosts came up. my dad dismissed it as always, turning to my sister to start a different conversation. i likewise turned to my mom, but instead chose to take a leap and asked her straight on: “do you believe in ghosts?” in a moment, her whole demeanor shifted. gone was the carefree, jovial mother i’d always known, and in her place was a woman with harrow deep in her eyes. she looked at my dad, now engrossed in a work story ellie was telling him. she stood up, told him we were gonna run back to the room for a moment, and grabbed my arm. as we walked, she told me a story i had never heard before.
one of my dad’s coworkers, rod oberlander, used to be married to a woman named betty. they divorced before i was born, but when my parents were still a young couple, they would hang out with the oberlanders often. betty was a new age mystic, and rod was crazy enough about her to be along for whatever she was crazy enough to get into. their time together was mostly pleasant, until the night betty asked my parents if they had ever seen a ghost. when they said no, she stared directly at them, and with absolute certainty in her voice, simply asked “do you want to?” immediately, rod grabbed her and barked “betty, no! we are not doing this again! let it go!” the whole night was thrown off, and shortly after, my parents thanked them and went home. they didn’t see the oberlanders outside of my dad’s work much after that, but on the one night they did return to their house for dinner, my mother saw something when she excused herself to use the restroom. as she was walking back, she noticed their bedroom door was slightly ajar. through the crack, she saw something strange on the ground. overcome with curiosity, my mom pushed open the door, and stopped dead in her tracks. on the ground, in black duct tape, was a massive pentagram, with several bowls of herbs and liquids at each point. she quickly pulled the door shut, and ran back to the dining room. never one to rock the boat, she finished out the meal in silence, but asked my dad if they could leave early. rod divorced betty soon after, but their friendship with him was never the same. christians and devil worshippers don’t exactly mix, and that was how it looked to them. in the suite now, sitting on the couch, she looked me dead in the eyes, and took time picking her words. “listen to me. there is a very strong spiritual side to this world, and there is a reason we don’t see it. be VERY careful with how you interact.”
all that backstory to say, she was not happy to hear that her son was having demonic-sounding experiences. but she’s a realist at heart, and told me that it was likely just the melatonin giving me weird dreams. we reasoned that the improvement to my overall sleeping pattern was probably not worth the stress, and i stopped taking it.
and then it happened again, a week later. things were normal at first, i had a few different dreams that were uncharacteristically mundane for me. childhood friends, malls, every kind of dream that i said before i don’t experience. eventually, i found myself in a school hallway, suddenly lucid. i looked around, and saw at the end of the hallway closest to me was what looked to be gymnasium doors. i crept up to one, feeling that old familiar dread creep up my spine. as i cracked one door open, i saw something that made my blood run stone cold.
it looked to be a basketball arena, with bleachers running down to the floor from where i stood. a huge crowd of people were packed onto the floor, staring statue still and staring at a stage on one end of the arena. this stage had only a massive screen on it that stretched to the screen, and on it, a brain melting blast of flashing colors and patterns was playing at seizure inducing speed. there was a low, strong hum of electricity in the air, and i clapped my hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp that never came out. in that moment, everyone on the floor turned to me at once. and in the same moment, they broke into a frenzy. tearing up the bleachers in any way they could, climbing over seats, hauling up railings. i can’t even say they moved like animals- they were like demons. i shook away my initial shock and slammed the door shut, breaking off in a sprint down the hallway. the crowd broke down the doors, and i looked back to find a wave of bodies clamoring over one another in a bloodthirsty craze. nails dug into flesh, feet kicked open jaws. and in the center, pushing through the mass, i saw it.
that feeling of unease, the malicious eyes piercing invisibly through me every night. they were all attached to an absolute behemoth of a figure, and i didn’t give myself time to see anything further. as i ran down this endless hallway, i watched layers of dream peel away before my eyes. like paper tearing apart, i careened through malls, churches, fields. in a blink, i saw a screen door appear ahead of me. i launched myself through it, and rolled into my childhood best friend’s backyard. the first dream. it was fenced in on all sides, and as i lifted myself up onto my elbows, i heard heavy, guttural breathing behind me. slowly, i turned myself over. standing before me was what i can only describe as a demon of the void itself, though it might not be how you typically imagine. this creature stood on two legs, with a vaguely humanoid body. massive hands, feet, and torso, but it’s limbs were stretched grotesque and impossibly long. the beast hunched forward in a C shape, neck protruding its head forward to level with its hands. its features were sloth-like, with a face just human enough to strike unease looking at it. wherever my eyes fixated, it appeared to be a dusty beige, but any part of it in my periphery shimmered and molted in eye-piercing multichrome. it spoke, though what words it said i don’t remember. what i do remember, however, is its voice. it was as if the vocal folds it spoke through were being actively corroded through with acid, a low, humming gurgle. like the gates of hell themselves had opened through its mouth, and the stench that poured out was revoltingly sweet. in that moment, i screamed. like a banshee, my own shriek echoed through my head.
i awoke to a dark and empty bedroom, but this time, that feeling of being dragged back down to sleep was present. and it was stronger than ever. i heaved my body off the bed, a roaring in my ears like blood rushing to my head. i stumbled down our short hallway, stumbling as my body fought to give out beneath me and crash again. this presence of malice that had been behind every dream was all around, and i could swear to you i heard footsteps behind me. i burst through my parents room, collapsing down on their bed as i felt the presence stop at their door. i looked up to see their bathroom door ajar, with my mother turned away from me towards the mirror. i thought to myself, “whatever happens, at least i’m safe and not alone.”
and then i woke up. my bedroom was dark, empty. but this time, the feeling was gone. i was alone, i could move freely. i was awake. but just a moment before, i would have sworn on my life that i was awake too. in all my nightmares and wakings, i always knew what was real and what was imagined. but in a moment, that one comfort shattered to my feet. and after that day, everything was quiet. i didn’t want to tell my mother what happened. part of me was scared she would call an exorcist, part of me was even more scared she would tear off her face to reveal those sloth-like features. but after a couple months, i started to feel like myself again. we were packing to leave for a little spring break getaway, and i was excited to relax with a change of scenery for the first time in what felt like forever. but the night before we left for the airport, i had one last dream.
it was a massive, city sized fair. booths and stages were set up all around, and i spent hours exploring. i saw friends from college putting on a shakespearean play, though their dress was a bit strange- remember those monks from monty python who hit themselves in the head with the wooden boards? kinda like that. i eventually wandered away, and looked towards the massive circus tent that stood at the center of the fair. easily several neighborhoods wide, the flaps of the bigtop were peeled open to reveal even more wonderous rides and stalls within. i pondered entering, but felt a strange numbness begin to spread from the corner of my jaw. distressed, but still dreaming, i looked around for an attendant. one was standing not too far off, and i rushed up to her. i said my jaw was in pain, and asked where i would find somewhere i could get a cup of ice. she smiled widely, and told me that all food and drink was contained inside the tent. however, they had a doctor on duty who could look at it for me if i would follow her. she turned and motioned for me to follow, but my feet didn’t move. something in her smile… it didn’t meet her eyes. she turned back to me, and gave me that same plastic grin. “come on!” she exclaimed, too eager. “he’s just over this way.” all at once, lucidity hit me. it wasn’t just the smile, nothing met her eyes. her mouth and facial features moved, but her eyes stared right through me, dead. i placed a foot behind me. “you know what, i think i’m alright.” another foot. “i’ll just see if i can wait it out.” her facial features contorted in what looked like puzzlement, but still those eyes did not change. “what do you mean?” she said, starting towards me.
at that moment, i awoke. laying on my side, facing the wall of my bedroom. but lounging across from me, illuminated by the phone she tapped away on, was a girl. young, maybe just 18, light skinned african, with beautiful long hair. i did not know her. i tried to open my mouth, but my jaw was numb and useless. i tried to move, but my body was paralyzed. only my eyes worked. hearing my muffled grunts, she flicked her hazel eyes up at me for a moment before going back to typing. “i know, i’m sorry.” she said, before saying something else. i wish to god i had written it down, because now i cannot remember to save my life. but i do remember her saying “it’s not my fault, this happens sometimes. it’s a -” she began to formulate a name. a word. i think it started with a D. but in that moment, i blinked, and she was gone. awake, i could move my jaw and body. but in front of me, in the empty bed space, was the perfect, exact indent of where a person had laid. elbow-crushed pillow, sheets ruffled around a body shape. i never learned its name. or hers, for that matter. i told my mom in the car as we were driving to the airport. my sister sat in the front chatting with my dad, so we once again had privacy. she told me what i expected, if we came home and it happened again we would call an exorcist. not necessarily for me, but for whatever had invaded our home. i agreed.
but nothing happened. and three years later, nothing has happened. it took me a while, but eventually, i got over it. learned to live without answers, and chose to let it live in the past. if i talk about it like it could happen again, then it will. i thought it might be smart to type it down here online, because then it can become not a memory, but a story. one others can read and wonder at, one i can remove totally from my own reality and place into a false one.
at least, i think this is reality. i’ve been fooled before.