It’s 3 in the morning. Why did I watch The Conjuring all by myself? I’ve to pee. Should I wake him up? He’s fast asleep, I’ve never seen him look so relaxed. Wait, is that a frown on his forehead? What’s happening?

Is he going to talk in his sleep?

This is creepy. I really do have to pee. Why did I drink so many margaritas? It’s not good for my new fancy die…… what was that? ….t. I think I should wake him up. I mean, what are husbands for, if not to accompany you to the loo when you’re scared out of your wits? What is that tapping noise?

I look around trying to find my phone. I gotta turn on the lamp on the nightstand. Argh, this stupid damn bladder. Welp. Ah there we go. This lamp needs to be closer to me.

He’s smiling in his sleep. It’s good. The smile is growing wider. Ooh, good. Must be thinking about his football team winning earlier. Why am I watching him like a total freak? Let me look closer. I want to touch his hair. It calms me down. I love how smooth his forehead looks. Zero traces of stress. I smile to myself and run my fingers though his hair. He’s so cold. Smells funny. How does he suddenly smell funny? What is up with tonight. It’s still three in the morning? I’ve been doing all this talking and time hasn’t moved? Strange. Let me go pee. Argh.

Aw, look he just grabbed my hand.

He’s saying something. He’s so cold. His neck creaks slightly as he turns his face towards me, and his eyes are tightly open wide and I’ve never seen him look so… evil. That sinister smile seemed to have gotten even more sinister. What’s happening?

I’m frozen.

He lets go, and then grabs my neck with both hands. Those hands. So cold. Almost as if they belonged to a dead person. I can’t move. He’s choking me. He’s choking me. I can’t talk, I start to slip, I can’t scream. I’m frozen within the sheets.

The NEXT day:

What a bright morning. Mm. My neck hurts. My back is cramping. And he’s sitting in a chair looking at me like he’s seen a ghost. I get out of bed and go hug him and ask him if he’s okay.

He’s got tears in his eyes. My man, crying. I’ve seen him cry only once before. His grandma passed and he was inconsolable, but that was a good decade ago. He holds me tight, it feels good. Finally he tells me.

“You were strangling yourself in your sleep last night, I thought I’d lost you.”

I can’t remember any of it.


Sleep paralysis is real. Nyctophobia is real. Sometimes fear manifests in the strangest of ways. What’s your biggest fear? Or paranoia? How do you control it?