Sleep Paralysis

A personal experience; this is a true story.

 I sat in my English class, nodding off.  I was interested in the subject, it was my favorite; I just hadn’t been getting enough sleep lately.

 “Your next assignment will be to write a biography of your favorite author,” the professor said.

 Oh, that’s not even a decision, I’ll do Richard Wyndham, I thought with some elation.  Projects I could have some enthusiasm for always ended up coming easily to me.  I started to see what I could recollect even before doing any research.

 He was married, lived in a cabin in the woods…  I was no longer listening to the teacher.  The turning inward of my thoughts severed my last link with consciousness, and without being aware of it, I slipped into dream.

 Yes, there it is now.  I approached a small two-story dwelling, surrounded by a thick and moist forest.  As I entered, a vague feeling of unease came over me.  And I remember his wife was an alcoholic, she died young from it.  That fact tells me that she died in this very cabin; being a dream, I don’t think to question it.

 The first floor consists of one main room, aside from a storage space under the stairs.  The interior has fallen into disrepair.  Its degradation has been accelerated by the windows all being broken out.  Everything is damp and the air feels thick with mold spores, though I don’t see any growth.

 I barely had time to take that much in before my gaze settled on that storage space.  There was no door to cover it, just a black piece of moth-eaten cloth, thin with age.  I felt drawn to it, but investigating was less something I wanted to do than something I had to.

 As I pushed the makeshift curtain aside with the back of my hand, the material felt forbidden as it brushed against my skin.  I could sense it hadn’t been touched in a long time.

 Blood rushed to my head, dizzying me, when I saw the box.  A large cardboard box, just big enough for a person to hide inside of, if they curled up inside of it.  Why did I think of that comparison immediately?  Because in the same way I knew she died in this cabin, I knew that box contained her body.  She didn’t die from her alcoholism at all, unless it being what drove her husband to kill her counts.

 My stomach and mind reeled as I realized this would no longer be seen as a natural death.  There was never a body before, this would have to be investigated.  It would be ruled a murder for sure, it would be a big news story.  I didn’t want to be at the center of a big news story, I didn’t want to have to go to the police, or explain what I was doing in this cabin in the first place.  My concerns quickly took a different path when one of the box’s flaps started to lift.

 My hand shot out and slapped it down out of reflex, or instinct.  This can’t be happening.  Experimentally, I lifted my hand.  The box started to open again…  Pushed, from the inside.  I slammed my palm down again, harder this time.  I felt her pushing back.  That instinctual part of my mind started the struggle.  She would push, I would either press back or raise my hand and strike her back down.

 Meanwhile, I was acutely aware of the rational part of my mind analyzing the situation.  It didn’t dwell on the impossibility of it, why should it?  Instead, I was confronted with an image of what she must look like now, which grew more horrifying by the second.  She’s been dead over fifty years.  This is a damp environment, and she’s been away from light.  Her eyes will be gone, and most of her skin.  Her lips gone, certainly.  There will be bits of hair still clinging to her scalp, embedded in bits of still-putrefying flesh.  The smell accompanying it will be ungodly.

 By the time I got to imagining what one of those hands struggling to reach the light must look like, I had gone from smacking the box with my palms to slamming it with my fists.  On another level, I was thinking that she was just a poor old woman who simply wanted out of this box.  I did not feel threatened by her; I knew it was my own cowardice that was keeping her in there.  I could not bear to see the corpse, even though the revulsion I felt came only from my imagination.

 I felt another push and frantically hammered my fist down, trying to punish her for wanting to escape.  I felt something solid beneath the cardboard give way, heard it strike the side of the box as it recoiled from my strike.  Having its presence confirmed in this new way knotted my stomach further and it became harder to breathe.

 For a moment I wondered if the viciousness of my last hit was enough to stop her from trying again.  There was a pause, then a renewed effort, faster this time.  I moved faster as well, swinging both arms down.  The sides of the box bulged, and my heart started beating even harder, thundering in my ears, as I realized it could not stand up to much more of this.  It would soon fall apart; what then?  The surging panic seized my lungs and I became paralyzed with fear.  And the box began to open again…

 With a sudden intake of breath, I lifted my head from my desk.  I didn’t even remember putting it down.  My heart was still racing, my sympathetic nervous system still fully active.  Yet no one in class was looking at me.  Seeing everyone’s calm, even bored, faces was a great comfort.  I felt my hormone levels begin the shift back from the flight response, but in that same instant I turned my head to complete my survey of the room.  There on the floor, right in the open, was that damned box!  As if waiting for me to lay eyes on it, it started to open.  My heart, just starting to relax, now gave such a sudden clench it was painful.  Can people really have a heart attack from fear?

 I had no time to rush over and force the box closed.  No time to look at my classmates or professor to see if they too see that box that wasn’t there at the beginning of class.

 I wake up in bed, next to my wife.  My overwhelming fear has rescued me again.  I take a breath, my blood feeling like it’s cooling off as it unloads what really does feel like dangerous levels of stress hormones.  I haven’t been in school in years, I remind myself.  I take another, even slower breath.  Have I ever had such an intense nightmare?  I am struck by the sudden notion that the box is in the room with me.  On the floor, just out of my field of view.  This does not bother me at first, because it’s a simple matter of lifting my head to see that it isn’t.

 I try to lift my head, and I can’t.  This has happened several times before; sleep paralysis, where my mind is awake but my body remains asleep.  It has never happened when it was so imperative that I just lift my head ever so slightly, though!  Now I feel certain that the box is in the darkness with me.  I tell myself that if I truly am awake, then the box can’t be here.  Is that the sound of cardboard rubbing against itself?

 I know I might still be dreaming, but it’s small consolation.  That only means I’m about to see her for sure, only now I can’t move.  If she is in here, she must surely be infuriated with me for what I’ve done.  I won’t be able to defend myself.  My heart beats harder, and harder.  Worse than even that sudden jolt in the classroom.

 If I can just wake up.  I find I can control my breath, so I start to breathe as quickly and loudly as I can.  Maybe a surge of oxygenated blood will do it.  Maybe my wife will hear me and ask if I’m okay, or give me the slightest nudge.

 There is no reaction from her, and I still can’t move.  Again I wonder if I might be about to have a heart attack.  I don’t know if I am awake and paranoid, or asleep and unable to wake.  All I know for sure is my panic isn’t saving me this time.

Reviews

[matrixmark]

I sleepwalk sometimes. So this story caught my attention. Great use of words when describing the cabin.
Great suspense....when the box starts to open and the person fights back for it to be closed. You built the tension just right and to have it snatched away as the person wakes up back in the classroom is quality.
The bit at the end where he wakes up a the end, next to his wife is really cool

Brilliant piece, i will look at all boxes in a different light from now

Mark.

[Andy L]

Like it, really good piece and well written. I can vouch for the sleep paralysis part too, I experienced it a couple of times when I was younger and it was terrifying.

[Christopher Miller]

Thank you. I'm glad to hear it sounds like I captured the experience, it really might have been the most afraid I've ever been in my life.

[Andy L]

Same here. The first time it happened I levitated off my bed, then the curtains started billowing, a bright light shone through the window and it became really windy in the room - the window was closed. I couldn't move at all throughout it all. Not good.

[Ara Mosby]

I've actually experienced sleep paralysis before, and I could definitely relate to what you have written here. There is a surge of fear, panic, and then a bit of curiosity...the lack of control is what is the most painful and frightening part. Your story was entertaining, and it kept me gripped until the end. Well done.

[Christopher Miller]

Thank you! I'm glad it's relatable, hopefully it will paint a picture for people who have never experienced it as well.

[Philip Muls]

Scary. well told story. Is it like a lucid dream?

[Christopher Miller]

If only it were lucid the whole time... Once I 'woke up' next to my wife it was something of a lucid dream, except I wasn't positive I was awake. I knew if I was awake, then only the impression of the box in the room was real. If I was asleep, then I knew it might 'really' be there, and that even though it was just a dream I wouldn't be able to handle the sight of that animated corpse emerging from the box.

[Stephen LaPrad]

That's a pretty vivid dream to have during class. I like how you pictured the women of being in the state of decay but then in the next paragraph feel bad for her. Oh and sleep paralysis, I've had that happen to me so many times, and breathing heavily works, you must of looked kinda weird during class breathing really loudly though.

[12.09am]

This is great, I myself suffer from sleep paralysis and can definitely relate to these emotions. It is a fearful experience that runs fear through your blood. There's no control and it's frightening, well written and established. I like the idea of a dream within a dream. My only criticism would be that the ending is a little too neat, it just tells you what it is straight away, draw out and make people question whats happening, overall loved it !!

[Christopher Miller]

Part of what rattled me so badly once I woke up was that I did know it was just a dream, but that wasn't helping me. I still felt like it might kill me.

[Sarah]

Very descriptive and draws you in. I didn't think this was a true story at first, but like I said, when you mentioned your wife, it became more realistic as you laid in bed beside her. I have never experienced sleep paralysis, and I have no idea what that would even be like, but you do a good job of describing it in a realistic manner.

I just found the part about the box and the woman inside very creepy, and I pray I never have a nightmare like this. Is this a recurring nightmare, or simply a one time experience?

[Christopher Miller]

This particular nightmare was one time, and I'm glad because it was easily the worst. Another notable one was one time I thought my wife and I were in bed together, and we heard our front door open. She asked "Did someone just come in our house?" and went to look. I heard heavy footsteps coming into our kitchen (where our front door was) and nothing else. I didn't want her to go alone, but I couldn't talk. When I finally snapped out of that she was in bed with me again.

[Jonathan P]

I like this story and the descriptiveness. I am drawn in and I feel like I am there experiencing the same thing. I have also experienced sleep paralysis once, and it is terrifying and I think this captures the terror quite well. I'd like to know what state you were in when you finally snapped out of this.

[Christopher Miller]

Thanks you. I woke up and looked around the room immediately, just to make sure I wasn't still asleep. Took some time before I finally believed it. I was more afraid of a heart attack than anything by that point. I don't have cardiac issues, it was only because my chest really did hurt. Once I could trust I was out of the dream, I calmed down pretty quick.