Dead Weight
a mostly true tale…
It was pitch black.
Something was covering her. A blanket, she thought. Her own comforter, pulled tight across her face.
She tried to move.
Nothing.
An enormous weight pinned her to the mattress. Something solid and impossibly heavy pressed against her chest, trapping her shoulders beneath it.
He exhaled the smell of tooth rot and regret.
She couldn't see him, but she didn’t need to. The size of him. The way his body covered hers. The deliberate pressure holding her down.
Someone is in my bed.
She tried to scream.
Her lips didn’t move, and no sound came out.
She tried to lift her arms. Kick her legs. Twist her body. Anything.
Nothing.
The weight shifted.
He was adjusting his position.
A grunt and a sniffle. That putrid breath.
Oh God. He's real.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. She couldn't get enough air. The fabric was suffocating her, and the harder she tried to breathe, the less oxygen seemed to reach her lungs.
Wake up.
The thought came suddenly, desperately.
You're dreaming. Wake up.
She couldn't.
Counting to ten, she tried to focus on her bedroom. The scent of her freshly washed sheets. The sound of the fan.
The darkness. The terrible pressure of another body.
WAKE UP.
She focused everything she had into moving one arm.
Just one finger.
Please.
The weight pressed harder.
A single tear.
She could feel it.
Instantly, her body shot upright.
Air tore into her lungs with a horrible, ragged gasp.
Her arms flew out in front of her, shaking violently. Both hands were numb. Pins and needles shot through her fingers as she flexed them, opening and closing her fists.
The comforter fell away from her face.
Bedroom.
Empty.
The clock glowed 3:17.
At the foot of the bed, one dog lifted her head, blinked, and went back to sleep.
The other didn't even bother opening his eyes.
She let out a shaky laugh.
“Fucking sleep paralysis. Jesus Christ.”
She'd heard about it. The hallucinations. The feeling of being held down. The terrifying certainty that someone was in the room.
Just her brain waking up before her body.
A very rational explanation, but the terror still felt real.
She sat for several minutes, breathing deliberately, waiting for the sensation to return to her arms.
In for four. Hold for four. Out for eight.
Again.
Again.
Eventually, her heartbeat slowed, and she swung her legs over the side of the bed.
No phone, no bright light, just a hot shower and back to bed.
As steam filled the space, she stepped beneath the spray and closed her eyes.
The heat worked its way into her shoulders, loosening muscles she hadn't realized she'd been clenching.
She tilted her head back and let the water run over her face.
Just a dream.
Her breathing settled.
Just sleep paralysis.
She stood motionless, listening to the water strike the tile.
The softness of her breath melted into the warmth.
Then two arms slid around her waist.
Large hands settled against her stomach.
A broad chest pressed against her back.
His breath warmed her ear.
“You feel different when you're awake.”