Dark, hulking. Broad shoulders that heaved with each breath. Blackness. I knew at once this couldn’t be a night terror, I needed to wake up and warn my husband that someone was watching us from the doorway, but I couldn’t move.
My therapist says it’s called sleep paralysis. Nice little disorder to couple with the night terrors, right? Now when I saw something scary and horrible, I couldn’t even wake myself up or roll over to ignore it. All I could do was lay there and stare, hoping it wouldn’t take a step forward.
For the first few nights, it didn’t. But it was always there. Just watching me.
Somehow I knew it was hungry.