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Sleep Paralysis
I rested my head against the smudged-window and lazily watched the blur of green and the varying colors of car polish. It had already been three dull hours since I was forced to tag along for my parent’s monthly shopping, and I had more than ready to get out of this packed coffin. Our Toyota minivan was stacked to the ceiling with food, furniture, and other miscellaneous items leaving me cramped with my legs resting on a mesh of plastic bags and cardboard boxes. Some scent of asian-style made pastries could be smelt from the few torn open plastic wrappers that were littered around. There was one last trip to the oriental supermarket before the journey home could begin, my parents more or less said in response to my hourly question of how much longer. As we pulled into the parking lot I decided to sit and wait in the vehicle, rather than going in and allowing my parents to spend more time bartering with the clerk on an item likely never to be used.
They left the key in to allow the air conditioning to save me from the Florida heat. Regardless, it wasn’t the hour for the supposed-to-be shade supplying parking lot tree to be blanketing me from the sun. I gave a lazy glance out the window. My parents could be seen pulling out a rusted shopping cart in silence as if they have done this a thousand times before. The digital clock read 4:35, and my evening drowsiness gripped at my eyelids. Any attempt to lessen the amount of time between my parents persistent Chinese-style bartering and being within the comfort of my room was given up soon after the adamant stubbornness of my mother would not budge an inch. I sighed in the dullness of the weathered car. Maybe a dream shorten the time of my apathy of waiting. I drew my arm to drop down the seat to the comfortable angle, but sighed again because piles of bags prevented me to be able to lay back. The best thing I could make was to fold my arms and rest my chin on the upper of my chest.
A few minutes passed. The immediately-useless tree swayed lightly above me. A humid Florida breeze of hot air drifted in through the half-down window. Softly, a pop song continued to play on the radio. The thump of a closing car door could be heard nearby, soon followed by the sounds of another oriental family coming in for their chronically-bought goods.
It was strange. The limbs of my body certainly felt heavier by the familiar feelings of sleep, but these events around me could still be understood and recognized. Odd, because at least when I had a dreamless sleep I would still lose consciousness. It was possible to move my eyes around; though heavy, I could still raise them enough to see the blurred resemblance of the blueness of my plain t-shirt and the black color of my gym shorts. The current angle of my head allowed me to see up to the lower half of the glove compartment, however I could not lift my chin up to see anymore. Other parts of my body responded similarly, unable to be moved such as a pugnacious child not having his petty desires fulfilled.
My mind felt like the embarrassed parent continuously urging, but not being able to move their own infant in hope to cause the eyes of passersby civilians to look away from the pair. This embarrassment soon led to panic. Signal after signal after signal, my body would not respond to the wills of my own brain. My own thoughts began yelling at the opposing limbs in hopes to get some sort of feedback from them.
The pieces of my body that had walked so many steps for me felt like they were cemented into their own position. I begged at my arms.
Shift, my mind pleaded.
Twist.
Rise.
Turn over.
Shake.
Nothing would move.
I wanted to scream. The footsteps of a passerby could be heard nearby, but my mouth would not move to let me cry out for help. Panic, fear, terror kept circling around in the corners of my head. I could feel my heart beating faster and faster, but I couldn’t even adjust the rate of my breathing so that I could give myself more oxygen to calm down.
“What’s wrong with me!? Why can’t I move!?” I furiously thought.
My mind starting feeling dizzy from the lack of much needed oxygen. I couldn’t think of anything else to do in my panic, so I resorted to continue to yell at my limbs to move.
I felt as if I might pass out. But I was scared to give in and leave my mind into darkness. A sudden memory flashed through my head, a memory that happened when I was much younger. My parents were holding me, rushing into the car and telling me comforting things that I couldn’t understand at the time. I felt tired, my eyes would not be fully opened, and any attempt to move quickly took up all of my energy. The most I could make out of was a mangled moan, but my mind was too tired to put any of it into sounds.
I almost died that day.
This felt very similar. It was as if the spirit of my body was fading and my mind just stood by to watch it, giving a terrifying feeling of uselessness. I refused to give in.
My mind couldn’t even think at this point. Still, I repeatedly begged my physical being to respond.
Through my exhausted eyelids, I could see the top fingers of my left hand folded under. With all the remaining thought power I had, I screamed at them.
I screamed at them to move.
I screamed at them to show me I was okay.
Suddenly, I felt a very slight sense of regained sensation in my pointer finger. It shifted scarcely any, but it was enough for my mind to recognize this regained feeling and send signals to my fingers.
More and more, I could soon feel my whole hand. The toes of my feet were the next to finally respond to the signals of my mind. With one last scream, my brain yelled at the rest of my body to move.
A shock of pain flared across my left side, but I was able to finally stretch my upper body, which scared me when one arm accidentally knocked over one of the bags containing whatever item my parents had bought this morning. Almost immediately after regaining feeling, I felt exhausted. But I had won, the panic and terror that had cursed my thoughts a moment ago were gone and replaced with relief.
My parents found me sound asleep when they came back.
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