Nights Like These

The first time it happened, I was five years old. My first day of school was the next morning and naturally, that came with the first-day jitters. With the anxiety came the inability to sleep, but just as I was able to just drift off, I heard the voices. They were in my bedroom, circling me. I tried to open my eyes, move away, scream, just about anything, but I was stuck, with only the voices present around me. After what felt like an eternity, I came to, screaming, waking everyone in my house.

Over the years, similar things kept happening, voices around me, seeing movement out of my peripherals, but the one thing that was the same time and time again—the paralyzing fear leaving me unable to move. Doctors chalked it up to anxiety and prescribed me mediation. To no surprise, that never worked. But over the years, I’ve learned to manage the episodes, no longer screaming myself awake. The episodes became tolerable, some worse than others, but always bearable. That was, until last week.

The first one came as a shock. I hadn’t been overly stressed, and yet that night, I heard the voices and woke up screaming. My partner, who was fast asleep next to me, shot up, startled. They had known about the episodes, having witnessed a couple bad ones that left me feeling uneasy, but the screaming was new. They were able to talk me off a ledge that night, we didn’t know that it was just the beginning.

The episodes continued to occur every night since, each one getting worse than the last. I have never had multiple in a row before, so this was all uncharted territory to me. Last night’s was by far the worst one yet. This time, to accompany the voices, I was able to open my eyes, but that was all the movement I could make. I couldn’t expand my chest to breathe. I was suffocating. I could feel the panic start to rise within me, but I was helpless. Suddenly, I saw a figure skulking around the darkest corners of the bedroom. And despite my best efforts, all I could do was lay there, with the fear consuming every inch of being. Then, as quickly as it all began, I could feel my lungs expanding. I was able to breathe again—my body finally catching up to my brain. My stirring caused my partner to wake up beside me.

“Darling,” they said endearingly, “did it happen again?”

“Yes, but this one was different,” I started. “I actually felt paralyzed. I could feel myself suffocating, I wasn’t able to breathe this time. The voices, they weren’t how they usually are. They felt stronger almost? And I don't know but I thought I saw someone in our room. I have never felt that powerless in my life and I feel like I’m going crazy”

“Darling, I love you but I think some of this might be placebo. Obviously, you are anxious about the dreams and they keep getting worse night after night. Clearly, it’s causing you to spiral. The voices are probably exacerbated by the wind, and the person in our room was probably just a shadow. Our minds are stronger than we know, and like your doctors say, these are all just a manifestation of your anxiety. I don’t mean to diminish the dreams, but I just hate seeing you like this.”

I sighed at the confession. “I know you’re probably right, but there’s just something about them I can’t shake off. I never have been able to, but especially the ones recently. These ones just feel particularly strange.”

My partner fell asleep shortly after the conversation, but my body was flooded with too much adrenaline to even think about sleep. The fear I felt in that moment, when my lungs couldn’t fill with air, was nothing like I've ever felt before. I could never experience that again. I promised myself that I would never experience that again.

Which is why I am here, currently staring at my ceiling, fighting all human instinct to fall asleep, and ignoring my burning and drooping eyelids. The only thought racing through my mind was to do everything possible not to have the same terrifying dream again. But against all efforts, I fell asleep, just to be woken up by the voices. I could hear something pacing around the room; like an animal circling and taunting its prey, just before striking. Fighting with all my might, I couldn’t move a muscle. My mind was screaming at the body to listen, but I had no control. I laid there powerless to myself. A voice cut through the mental anguish; it was my partner saying, “it’s just the wind, don't worry. Go back to sleep.”

The sound of their voice calmed me instantly and allowed me to come out of this episode. Blinking my eyes quickly, I scanned the room to make sure no one else was there. After confirming we were there alone, I turned over to thank my partner, when a realization hit me. They were fast asleep, and by the looks of it, have been for hours. It couldn’t possibly be their voice that I heard. Never have I heard another person’s voice that clearly during an episode before. My heart started to race. Whose voice was that? Was it all in my head? Is my mind playing tricks on me? I started doubting everything when suddenly a figure stepped out of the shadows. Before I could scream, it sprung into motion, covering my mouth. I was struggling to breathe, writhing against it. The figure was almost indescribable; having no distinguishable features at all. It was almost as if a shadow had come to life, now currently fighting me. That’s impossible though, isn’t it? This sense of panic felt familiar, but this never happened before, has it? I continued squirming against it. Then, with its spine-chilling voice, it spoke. “Don’t worry darling, it's just the wind.”