Witch Ride

Before you read any further, you should know that what I'm about to write is a real event. Better, I should say it was an actual nightmare.

Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis? I ask because I have. It's when your body becomes paralyzed in your sleep. Supposedly, your brain is trying to prevent you from hurting yourself. When your mind becomes conscious and your body is still frozen this natural event can become terrifying.

In many cultures, this phenomenon has different names. Some say it is a demon sitting on your chest. You may be familiar with one particular painting.

Another idea is that your spirit leaves your body at night and on it's return gets stuck between two planes.

In my culture, it is called a Witch Ride. Supposedly, a witch is using your body as a broomstick, which is absurd. Still, this is what I know it to be.

The only way to prevent one is to either sleep with a Bible under your pillow or pray that it doesn't happen. I have done neither of these things, as I don't believe that by simply placing a book under one's head would prevent a natural phenomenon.

Witch Rides happen to me quite often. Particularly on a muggy night. The first one I can remember, is the feeling of being dragged. I could feel hundreds of hands suddenly pull me backward in my sleep. The worst part of any Witch Ride is the screaming. When your mind is conscious in a paralyzed body, you try to scream. However, you can't. You may try, but the most that comes out is a sort of raspy noise.

My witch rides can become quite comical, as I just wouldn't scream. I would simply realize I was in a Witch Ride and wait it out.

Tonight was different.

I went to bed around 1 am, which was a little late for me, but it's the weekend. I was asleep in only a few minutes.

The dream started out normally, as they all do. At some point I wake up. I can see that it's still dark out and that I'm in my room. I can see my blankets, the open closet door, the cluttered nightstand, and the window. It's my room. It when I try to move my head that I realize I'm in a Witch Ride.
"Here we go," I say in my thoughts. "Lets try to wake up."

I try to pick up my head again, and I can't. It's like it's made of cement.

In a Witch Ride, the screaming begins as a call for a loved one. Again, I usually don't scream at this point, but after unsuccessfully making a few more attempts to move my head, I start to call for my sister, who is asleep in the other room.

Again, I know I'm in a Witch Ride and that I won't be heard. I try to call for my sister, but the voice I hear come out is hoarse. 

Again, I try to move. I close my eyes shut, and pull forward. I feel my feet hit the carpet and I can feel myself clumsily walking to the door.

It's just when I  think I've reached the door that I open my eyes, only to find, I'm still in the bed. This is normal. I try a few more times, and end up in  the bed.

I try to call for my sister again, but nothing comes out.

"This is ridiculous," I think to myself, trying to move my stiff body.

I try to get up again, this time with my eyes open. As I try to move, I realize I can't get out of the bed. I'm tangled in white sheets. I don't own white sheets, so this is odd.

I try to free myself, but the more I try to get out, the more tangled I become. It's as if I'm tied to the bed. With one arm freed, I reach for whatever I can find on the nightstand and throw it, hoping to wake my sister. Every object I throw either lands on a soft surface or is too low to be heard.

Even when I knock the nightstand completely over, there's no noise. It's at this point, that there's a voice.This is unusual.

In a sort of polite way, the voice says, "We're sorry. There's no noise allowed here. You're being controlled."

I start to frantically call for my sister. My voice was now just a raspy noise. Again, the voice says, "There's no noise allowed here. You're being controlled. We control your every move."

Then, there's this strange image, that sort of bounces in and out of my peripheral vision. It's some sort of ape. He looks more like a puppet. He has red painted spiral eyes and a large grin. He doesn't make a noise, but the voice continues on in the same "We're sorry. You're being controlled."

Then I start screaming, but the scream is raspy and only in my head. I'm the only one that can hear this frantic and raspy screaming. The voice continues explaining that I'm trapped and that I'm being controlled.

Finally, I can feel myself moving, but it's labored. My legs and arms are weighted down, but I'm trying to run, when suddenly I'm in the street. I can feel the cool air. There's a breeze. It's been raining and the road is wet.

I start to scream for my sister, but it's only the raspy voice still. The wind is picking up and the voice is getting louder. I can almost feel my body being pulled away, to where I don't know. Every step becomes heavier than the last and I'm getting nowhere.

"We're sorry. You're not allowed to move," it says.

In desperation, my only thought is to repent and call for God. I fall to the wet asphalt on my knees and start to scream for God to save me. I start to repent, but I can still here the voice. I frantically cry out for repentance and for salvation. The wind  is picking up and I can feel my body being pulled.

I call for God again, screaming and sobbing. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I scream in the hoarse voice, even more deafened by the wind.

I call for God again in a final attempt at repentance,  when suddenly I can see my sister and her best friend.

I start to call for her. The two come over and pull me up from the road. I am then quickly rushed into the home of an old woman.

Before she closes the door, she sees a small silver cross in the street. She extends out her hand and the cross flies into it.

She looks up, her eyes stern. She then closes the door, and then I wake up.

I'm in my room. I can see my blankets, the cluttered nightstand, the open closet, and the window. I'm sweaty.

I start to wonder, if I'm really awake. I start with a simple test. I move my fingers on my right hand, then my toes, and then the fingers on the left hand. Still unsure, I tell myself to get up.

Cautiously, I raise my head from the pillow. The clock on the nightstand says it's 3:11am. Relieved to be out of the Witch Ride, I snatch the heavy blankets away and blame it on the muggy air. At this point I get up and open the window.

Its windy and it's been raining.

Author's Note

If you have ever had a Witch Ride or sleep paralysis or you have some interpretation of this dream, comment below.

Reviews

[Eric R]

Your profile says you draw, are you on deviantArt?

[Antwannette]

yes, I'm on deviantArt. I don't post their that often though. http://jojin88.deviantart.com/ https://www.facebook.com/

[Eric R]

I have had this several times, and I love your story. The painting you uploaded is great too.

[Antwannette]

Thank you. I have witch rides a lot and they usually don't get that extreme. That one was very different.