Sunday, December 21, 2014

Sleep Paralysis Afternoon

Posted by at 12:54 AM
It had been a rough week for him at work , stretching beyond the normal office hours , swigs of coffee going in like his body constituted of 70% cafffeine instead of water ,  puffs of cigarettes being blown amidst the cloud of the usual business , and a soul restless, devoid of sleep.

'Take the day off'.

He looked out of his laptop screen and tried to figure out the source of the familiar voice.

'Take the day off, Sam'

His manager was standing behind him, arms rested on his chair. He was peering into his bloodshot , weary eyes.

'That's okay, I will finish this module then just a few bugs will be left to resolve, after that I can--'
before he could finish, he found his manager's arm fall onto his shoulder, with a gentle press followed by a pat on the back.

'You work really hard, and I appreciate it, I do. But I don't want my team to burn-out and lose their efficiency. Taking some rest is important. I want you to go home today and catch some sleep. Stretch it to tomorrow if you want to, and come back to work refreshed. No more coding for today.' he said.

It dawned upon Sam that he was slowly shaken back to being a human. He realized how he failed to remember the last time he could catch an 8-hour long nap. Feeling slightly elated, while the sense of work responsibility conflicting his emotions, he packed his bag, tucked his laptop and peripherals in , and headed for home.

He left his car at the office parking, but he was too drained out to drive , so he decided to take the office cab home.

Upon reaching, he decided to take a warm shower before he could crash. He looked around. His room was a mess. Dirty laundry, food plates , paper crumbles and plastic packaging lay everywhere. It's not that he likes to live this way, but in the past few weeks couldn't find time to take care of his household needs. He once had even contemplated of buying new clothes just to escape from all the laundry-work. Food was coming from outside on a regular basis. His bed seemed like the bedsheet was meant to stay atop it forever.

His bed. His soft, luscious, seductive, warm bed. He looked at it and began wondering how he just loved sleeping. Unlike others for whom sleep would just be a bare minimum necessity, he realized that he specifically loved the act of falling asleep, dreaming, waking up with drool on lips, and falling back to sleep. Before he could remember about the warm shower he was planning to take , he found himself falling, slowly, crawling towards , onto his bed.

He stayed asleep for some time but not for long.

He woke up with a sudden jerk motion upwards. He realized he was unable to make sense of the time of the day. It seemed like midnight, but he wasn't too sure. His head felt tremendously heavy , as if someone was mechanically squeezing his forehead inward. He decided to get off the bed and have a glass of water and some medicines. Soon he found that it was a herculean task for him to get off the bed. With much effort, he managed to stand on his feet , leaving the bed, and he headed straight towards the kitchen.

He had some water quickly, washed his face, and then filled a glass and took it back to his room. An aspirin would solve the problem, he wondered.

Upon reaching the room, he looked towards his bed.  The glass of water left his fist and went crashing on the floor as he looked on, petrified.

He could see himself lying asleep on the bed.

A calm, peaceful composure, his own self was sleeping well. He couldn't understand what was happening. Here he was, standing on his feet, and on the bed he could see himself, his own true self! His mind tried to register this as he could find a tingle of chill running down his neck.

He tried to move towards his sleeping self. He couldn't feel anything on his feet, no sensation at all. In few moments he could find himself falling backwards, his arms trying to find a support and cling to it, as he landed on the wall behind him. He found himself unable to do anything about the situation at hand.

A chilly wind started grazing him. Some good number of hours had passed as he looked on and saw his sleepy self turning on the bed. Still asleep. Suddenly, a bad feeling struck him. It was a feeling of despair and grief, as if, life will cease to exist if it were subjected to this feeling for a mere few minutes. He started crying and he could also see his sleeping self cry in the sleep. Drool started flowing out of both of their mouths.
Before he could take any further, he could see a dark , hooded figure standing in front of him. He froze. The hooded figure stared down towards the sleeping form of Sam. It seemed that it didn't take notice of the Sam who was standing transfixed on the wall.

The dark figure leaned close to the sleeping form of Sam. The Sam leaning on the wall tried to scream in order to wake himself up from the deep slumber that he was in, but it seemed as if he was making noise in vaccuum. Nothing came out of his throat.

Sam tried to move , to pinch himself if that could bring the consciousness back to him. As he continued his efforts, he could see that the dark figure was sucking the life out of the sleeping form. Sam felt as if he was losing his breath, as he started frantically to attempt throwing his limbs in vain. The life that the hooded figure was sucking from the sleeping Sam directly affected the Sam standing leaning on the wall. As the hooded figure sucked harder, trying to force the soul out of the sleeping body, Sam found himself getting closer towards his sleepy self. Closer, more closer as a shrill noise of pins scratching an aluminium plate filled his ears in the ultimate sense of torture one can imagine. Sam struggled hard, trying not to get sucked towards his own body this time, as if he knew that if that happens, something bad would happen to him and he might not wake up ever.

Noise. Force. More noise. Darkness everywhere as he started experiencing a blackout.

Suddenly, he heard a faint whisper. 'Stop breathing' it said. 'Stop breathing' . Sam couldn't decide what to do as his efforts to escape the hooded figure started failing . As he neared the blackout, he stopped breathing air. He could feel the force of the hooded figure getting stronger and stronger, choking his lungs, thrashing his chest as he experienced a complete blackout in the next moment.

He woke up with a sudden jerk motion upwards. 'Water' he blurted as he came back to his consciousness. He looked around, there was no hooded figure, and he found himself lying on his bed, with the trail of tears and drool all across his face.

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