14
I wake and can’t move. I’m just twelve. My brother sleeps in his bed, his snoring rhythmic. I can’t call to him, can’t tell him I can’t breathe, can’t tell him I can’t move, can’t cry out to him that I need help. I am incapable of everything but the awareness that I am awake and paralyzed. Earlier in the evening, I watched a TV show that talked about sleep paralysis. They described just this, and said that the inability to breathe was due to a ghost, or entity, sitting on the victim’s chest, sucking the air out of their lungs. I don’t see anything. But the terror fills me…
06
I lie in bed and know there’s something in the room with me. I’m only 8; I share the bedroom with my brother, but he sleeps obliviously in his bed. Something else is in here with us. Springing out of bed, I run to my parents’ bedroom and wake them, but can’t explain what’s wrong. It’s not just some free-floating anxiety that’s manifesting as this disembodied threat. There is something I’m feeling, that I’m sensing, that has taken form in my bedroom, but it’s just beyond my understanding and imagination to conceptualise and articulate. I sleep with my mother that night, while my dad sleeps in my bed. During the…