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…
08
I wake and see through my bedroom doorway that the kitchen light is on. The kitchen light shouldn’t be on. Like most people, I have a nightly routine. The kitchen light’s the last thing I switch off before going to bed. Now I wonder if I’ve forgotten to turn it off, or if there’s somebody in my little flat. Which is the likelier possibility? I might’ve forgotten to switch off the kitchen light. It’s possible, because everything is possible. But it’s unlikely. I’ve never forgotten it before. Also, I would not only have to forget to switch it off, but then jump into bed, switch off the bedroom lamp, and…