I Participated in a Sleep Paralysis Study.

Sleep paralysis had been a constant in my life for as long as I could remember. From a young age I’d lie awake, completely motionless and frozen. I’d gotten used to it by the time I was 13 and now, pushing 30, I’ve come to accept it as part of my life. Now, before you ask or make assumptions I’ll say this; it hasn’t been a complete walk in the park. Staying over at a friend’s house in elementary school became a big no-no quick. Mackenzie wasn’t too jazzed about me ‘sleeping with my eyes open at 3 in the morning’. When we both made it to middle school and our friendship ended, she began spreading a rumor that I was some freak, or a vampire. Kids would get their hands wet and fling water on me screaming ‘the power of Christ compels you’ over and over again. It was a rough 3 years.

High school though was a completely different story. No one really cared about my sleep paralysis. Hell, some kids invited me to their house just to see if it would happen. Most times it did. But even worse than being called a freak, or being a party trick to people was two things; no one knows why it happens… and the hallucinations. I would say that 90% of the time, they’re mild. Just some simple shapes and colors merging in a way that someone would imagine an acid trip. It’s surreal but not scary; same with auditory hallucinations. Here and there I’ll hear my name being called, or a far off, muffled conversation but never anything that startles me out of my episode. But the other 10% is like being stuck in a hellscape of every one of my worst nightmares.

I say all this as a way to explain why I’d participate in a sketchy looking ad I found online while searching for a new job. The ad said it was looking for people who deal with sleep paralysis on a regular basis; somewhere in the ballpark of 3-5 times a week, and the episodes needed to last over an hour. You needed to be over 18, seeing as you need to sign many waivers, but age and gender didn’t play a role in their choice. It seemed too good to be true… especially when I saw what they would be paying the participants; $1,000 a week. Better yet, it would be up front. I sent them an email expecting to get an alert from my bank that someone had somehow stolen all my information, but a week passed with no such thing happening. At that point I’d given up on the idea of getting paid to sleep and had applied to various other jobs in my area. On the way to an interview for one, I got a call.

I was going to get to the interview early, on account of being too worried about being late, so I answered it with a simple, “Hello?”

A young woman answered on the other side. “Is this Matthew Brown.”

I nodded and said, “Yes, this is him. Who is this?”

“I’m calling on behalf of Sleeplux. I understand you were interesting in participating in out sleep paralysis study?”

Seeing this was actually happening, I switched over to my more professional voice to try and make a good impression. “Yes, I was very interested! Just let me know what I need to do.” We talked over the phone for about 30 minutes as she went through a few more questions. Some were simple like where did I grow up, when was my first experience with sleep paralysis, and what did I see or hear most often. Then the questions began getting much more personal. Did you suffer much trauma as a child, including physical, and emotional? Did you move houses a lot as a child or as an adult? What are you most afraid of? Then came the strangest one of all… Do you believe there is life after death?

I was shocked, and confused. Sharing my concern I said, “What does this have to do with”

“Just answer the question please, sir.”

“No, I don’t.”

She simply responded with a low, hmph, before finishing the phone call with, “Come to the address sent to your email tomorrow at 8 PM. That will be your first night, and you’ll have 6 nights after that. Each morning upon waking you will fill out a short journal expressing what you felt and saw during your episode if you have one. If you do not have one, you will simply leave it blank. I hope you understand. If you have any questions please address them with your assigned doctor when you arrive. Your participation is greatly appreciated by all of us at Sleeplux. Take care, sir.” Then the line went dead.

Well, they’re efficient, I thought. I was more confused now than I’d been when I first saw the ad but I really needed the money so I convinced myself, no matter how sketched out I was about the whole thing, I’d see it through to the end. I went ahead with my scheduled interview and then drove home spending the rest of the day trying to relax and get ready for tomorrow.

***

The building was much smaller than I was expecting. With talk of doctors and researchers I was expecting something the size of your average hospital. What I got instead was a fairly modest two-story, colonial style house. Out front there was a sign that read, Sleeplux. There was a cartoon pillow and mattress holding hands and smiling with a speech bubble above it that said, “Sweet dreams!” I tried to stifle my laughter as I went inside and met a young woman at the front desk; I assumed it was the same woman I’d heard on the phone. She was busy typing away at her desk so I just stood there waiting to get her attention as to not rush her. But as I said, this company was efficient.

Not taking her eyes from the computer screen she said, “Are you Matthew Brown?” I responded in the affirmative. “Go down that hall to the left. Your bedroom is the third on the right. Your doctor will be with you shortly.” I just nodded and went on ahead seeing as she clearly wasn’t the talkative type. As I began walking I noticed all the walls in this house (for lack of a better word) were totally bare. There were no photos, or paintings. No informational pamphlets or outdated magazines; nothing that you’d usually find in a doctor’s office or hospital. I jumped when I heard a new voice behind me; a man’s voice.

“It’s so our participants don’t get influenced into seeing or feeling a certain way.” Turning around I found a small, lanky fellow in a lad coat that was much too large for him. “I’m Doctor Prue, but you can just call me Doc or Prue; either is fine with me. I’m going to be the one overlooking you while you’re here. I assume Penelope has taken all you information and given you the questionnaire?” I nodded. “Great! Let’s get you settled in then.” He motioned to the door beside us and I stepped inside, him following close behind.

I was surprised by the weight of the door but once I was in the room, I saw why it was so thick. The room had been completely sound proofed. There were large acoustic panels across every inch of the walls, thick carpet on the floor and a simple twin-sized bed in the middle of the room with white sheets and pillows. One either side was what you’d expect in a hospital room. Things like a heart-rate monitor, and an IV bag. The only thing that was noticeably different, aside from the carpet and acoustic paneling, were the cameras sitting up in each corner of the room.

Prue, who’d been typing away at a computer this entire time, turned to me, “Most people are put off by the idea of being filmed. If that’s the case with you, we can give you a sleep aid to help you doze off. Also, there will be EEG cap strapped to your head so we can monitor brainwaves during an episode. We’re trying to learn if certain spikes indicate certain events or emotions the person may be feeling while paralyzed. But I don’t want to bore you with the technicalities of everything.” He put out his hand, palm facing up. “I will need your phone, and anything else that may interfere with the machines while testing.” I didn’t think about that, I thought. I handed it over reluctantly and Prue gave me a quick smile before going to leave.

Just before the door closed he poked his head back in and said, “Someone will be with you in a moment to get you fitted for your sleeping attire and you EEG cap. Then it’s lights out at 8 PM.” He put on another quick smile and said, “Sweet dreams!” before softly closing the door behind him. It was then the silence of that room set in. I could imagine that without the overhead lights it would be like sitting in a sensory deprivation tank. I think I was sitting in that room for 3 hours before anyone actually came by. When they did, it was a younger woman in scrubs. In an attempt to break the monotony I said, “Hello.” In the most cheerful voice I could muster. She just ignored me as she measured my head and body, never actually saying anything; just giving subtle hand movements to direct me where I needed to be. She also had very deep, dark bags under her eyes. I felt bad for her… she seemed so disassociated with everything but before I could try to talk to her more, she was finished and walked out.

About 30 minutes later she returned with an empty bag marked “PERSONAL BELONGINGS” and handed it to me along with my new pajamas. It was here she finally spoke. “Change, please.” Her voice was soft, but not in a delicate or pretty way. It was more like the voice of someone who’d given up… someone who was broken. She turned her back to me so I could change with some semblance of privacy. Once I was done she took the bag with my old clothes, wrote my name on them, hooked up the EEG cap, the IV, the heart-rate monitor, and began to leave. Not able to stop myself I blurted out, “Is… everything okay?” She stopped, the door help open with her foot. Turning back to me I could see her eyes were getting red, and there were tears begging for escape. She gave me a weak smile and said, “Sweet dreams.”

The light turned out when the door shut and I was left to my own thoughts. Being in a completely dark room, with little to no sound other than the low hum of some of the machines was a surreal experience. I lied there for nearly thirty minutes before finally feeling comfortable enough to fall asleep.

I had fully prepared myself to experience and episode that night. I was in a new place, and I was unfamiliar to my surroundings. So when I opened my eyes and couldn’t move, I was prepared for it. At first I didn’t see anything; and I mean that in the most literal way. The room was so dark; I wouldn’t have been able to see hand in front of my face, but as time ticked on and my episode continued I began seeing bright flashes of light. My first thought was lightning but I couldn’t hear a storm outside and I knew this room had no windows. But as it continued flashing it would get faster and faster by the minute to the point where it was nothing short of a strobe light you’d see in a night club. Eventually though, the flashing settled and the room was bathed in a white, sterile kind of light akin to a doctor’s office.

And then… everything else came into focus. The walls of my room were what I noticed first. Instead of the sound dampening panels I’d seen when I came here, they were now covered in a classic 1980’s wood paneling. The walls were decorated with several crucifixes, and family photos of people I didn’t recognize. Their hairstyles, big and poofy, matched the time period this room seemed to be in as well. I moved my eyes to the other side of the room and if it had been possible for me to do so, I would have jumped out of my skin. One of the women in the photos on the wall was staring down at me while I lied there and… she was crying. My focus was totally on her, though behind her I could see a kaleidoscope of beige and brown mixing together; like someone took every color in this room and threw it in a blender. Her mouth was moving and for a moment I couldn’t make out what she’d been saying. It was only when she reached over to a bedside table and clicked off the lamp was I able to understand her. It’s going to be okay, Martha. It’s going to be okay. Just go to sleep, Martha. Just go to sleep.

I wanted to talk to her, ask her what she meant, ask her who Martha was but before I could I felt a weight come over my abdomen. This wasn’t something I was new to, but it was rare for me; and given my situation I found myself much more worried about this weight than I’d ever been in the past. This one felt different. Even though I couldn’t see it, I knew she’d climbed on top of me. Not in a sexual or sensual way, but in a way that had a different purpose. When a new weight came over my face and head, I knew what that purpose was. She was suffocating me, I thought; rather she was suffocating whoever Martha was. My chest tightened as I struggled to breath, my body still not giving me the gift of movement. My breaths became shorter, I could feel the burn in my chest crescendo into a full blown house-fire in my ribcage, I was sure I was going to die until finally… I woke up.

I sat up in my bed, gasping for air and clutching at my throat and face making sure there was nothing there. The room was pitch black again, no longer illuminated by the ghostly white light like before but the beeps of my heart-rate monitor let me know I was back in reality. With nothing to tell me how much longer I had till morning, I just threw myself back onto the bed, exhausted and scared, and just stared into the black until someone knocked on the door a few hours later. “Hello,” a familiar voice called out, “I hope your first night went well.” It was Doctor Prue. He was much more perky and excited than I was at the moment.

I sat up in the bed, narrowing my eyes as they tried to adjust to the overhead lights Prue turned on while coming in. A simple, “Morning,” rolled off my lips. Prue wasted no time and was at the computer writing down things, taking notes and speaking softly to himself. “It seems you had quite the night in here. How are you feeling now that you’re awake?” He hadn’t looked up from his clipboard once so far. My thoughts swam around in my brain for a few moments before I was finally able to muster up a few words. “I’ve… I’ve never had an experience as intense as the one I had last night. It was… it felt so real to me in the moment. I suppose that sounds silly, as I know it isn’t real…” his eyes shot up at me when I said that. It struck me as odd in the moment, but he simply asked, “Can you explain, in as little or as much detail as possible, what it is you experienced?”

His eyes, now back at his clipboard, seemed more intense than ever and I could swear he was beginning to turn red in the face. I walked him through the whole experience; the lights, the walls of the room, the photos, and finally… the suffocation. His eyes were totally transfixed on me now and he hung onto every word like a little kid listen to their grandfather tell stories of the war. When I was finished he stared at me silently for a moment before excusing himself. The whole exchange was strange to me. I couldn’t really read his face so whether or not he was happy about what I’d experienced or not was lost on me.

I was alone for around an hour before the same nurse from before came in. Her eyes were now totally blood shot and the dark bags only seemed to deepen. She rolled in a cart with a simple breakfast of eggs, toast, and sausage. As she adjusted to the table to my height she said, “The first night is always the hardest. It gets easier.” She looked at me, an empty smile plastered on her tired, drooping face. “Eat up.” She said, “You’re going to need it.” I wanted to talk about what she’d said but she was gone before I knew it. The first night is always the hardest? How would she know? Did she participate in this at some point as well? There were a multitude of other questions swimming around in my head but with no one there to answer them I just at my food and tried to relax. If what the nurse said was true, tonight was going to be a more pleasant experience. I just hoped she was right.

Not long after finishing my meal Prue came in only this time he was carrying a manila folder, rather than his clipboard. Normally those things were reserved for x-rays so I was confused when I saw it. Apparently I wore this confusion on my face because as he pulled up a chair next to me he said, “Don’t worry. We didn’t x-ray you or anything.” He laughed, “We just have some drawings we’d like you to look at and tell us what you feel.”

Confused, I said, “Like a Rorschach test?”

Prue scratched the stubble on his chin while looking to ceiling as if the answer to my question was somewhere along the ceiling panels. “Sort of… except these will be much easier to make out, and aren’t up for interpretation.” He could tell I was still confused so he sat up a little and said, “How about we just start, huh?” I just nodded and he opened up the folder and pulled out 3 pieces of paper. On each was a watercolor painting of the things I’d seen last night. The room… the painting on the wall… the woman who’d been standing over me; they were right there. Prue noticed a jump in my heart-rate took a quick note saying, “Do the places in these paintings mean something to you?”

I was dumbfounded. I stared at those paintings for at least five minutes until finally saying what I’d been thinking the whole time. “I’ve seen this place before.” Prue gave a simple, hmm with a questioning tone. “Last night,” I said, “During my sleep paralysis… this is what I saw. That woman tried to kill me… or it at least felt like it. She called me Martha.” I heard Prue’s foot begin to tap which felt out of place for a man who seemed so calm and together. I looked over at him, trying to read him but couldn’t get anything. The man had a poker face like I’d never seen. Without saying another word he packed up the paintings then reached into his lab coat and handed me a white envelope with the Sleeplux logo complete with Sweet Dreams under it. Then he left the room without another word. The envelope had a check for $1,000 and a note inside.

Here at Sleeplux we appreciate you time, greatly. As you may have noticed this check is dated for one week from today. In order to receive this money you must complete the full week of our study. If you decide to leave before your week is up, we will make sure the check will be made invalid. If you have any concerns, previous engagements, or medical requirements that would stop you from being able to complete the trial, please let your nurse know before dinner time at 7 PM. Thank you, for your cooperation. And from everyone here at Sleeplux, SWEET DREAMS!

The ‘sweet dreams’ at the bottom of the letter was written in all uppercase and felt very intimidating. The whole letter, as a matter of fact, felt heated; like a threat. I put it to the side and stared at the check. Was $1,000 really worth going through that again? Being suffocated by something my brain created? But… that’s when it hit me. How could those paintings have been created if I was the one who’d seen the hallucinations in the first place? And how did they make them so spot on. I realized I was most likely dealing with something much bigger than myself, or anyone could imagine, but money was tight so I decided to see it through to the end. The nurse came and dropped off my food sometime later but we had no notable interaction this time. We just shared half-hearted smiles and then she was gone. I ate my food, and before I knew it, it was lights out for the second time.

I don’t know how long it took my paralysis to kick in this time, but to my absolute misfortune I was greeted to that flashing light again. It was like a paparazzi camera flashing continuously until finally it illuminated the entire room in that all too familiar sterile light. I found myself in the same room as before; the same wood paneling, the same photos on the wall, and the same bedside table. The only difference this time was that I wasn’t alone with the woman who’d tried to kill me. There were many people surrounding me. Some of them held looks of concern, others looked down with disdain. One person held all my attention though; a doctor. One who looked very much like Dr. Prue. When he spoke he even held some of the same inflection in his voice.

“I’m not sure there is much more we can do Barbra. Martha isn’t responding to our treatments and we’ve tried everything in the book.” That’s when it hit me. I was Barbra’s partner… I was an old woman on bed rest for some kind of ailment that, at the time and maybe even now, was incurable.

The older woman, Barbra, spoke up but just above a whisper. “You’re not trying hard enough. There has to be something else we can do. I don’t to see my wife lie here and wither away, staring into nothing! Can’t you at least administer her something that will put her to sleep? I don’t think she’s slept in weeks, hasn’t blinked in weeks. There has to be something…” her voice cracked and I felt a tear fall onto my cheek. The Doc Prue doppelganger simply shook his head, packed up his things and left the room. When I heard the door click shut everything in the room froze. Everyone’s breathing seized, the air felt heavier, even the analog clock on the wall stopped counting the seconds as they went by. Then, one by one, everyone faded away as the room got darker… everyone except Barbra.

Finally the clicking of the analog clock returned and before I knew it Barbra was climbing on top of me, the same way she’d done last night, before mouthing ‘I’m sorry’ and bringing the pillow down on my face again. The same song and dance played out until I jerked up out of my bed clutching my throat, fighting for air. I was exhausted. Every muscle in my body was I pain. I felt like I’d competed in and Iron Man competition. Once I finally caught my breath and felt somewhat relaxed I sat back on my bed, and waited for someone to come in. I didn’t care who it was, I just needed to see a real person; someone I could talk to about what I’d seen and felt that night.

The first person to come in was Prue. He was wearing that same, empty smile that doctors always have; it was an attempt to quell my fears I’m sure, but it didn’t work. As soon as I saw the manila envelope under his arm I knew where this was going. He pulled up a chair beside me and said, “So… any episodes last night?” I was so annoyed by the question. Given what happened yesterday I knew that he already knew the answer to that question. So that’s what I told him. “That’s what’s in the folder right? Everything I saw last night?” He looked shocked at first… but then he settled more into his chair.

Pulling out the paintings he said, “You catch on quick don’t you Matthew?” He tossed the paintings over to me. They were what I’d expected. While the figures were warped, and disfigured there was no doubt it was a depiction of my hallucination, if you can even call it that. Prue continued, “Sleeplux is more than a research company. We’re looking for ways to connect with things that many believe don’t even exist.” I looked up from the paintings, confused. “When you were being vetted for this experiment, this important research, you were asked if you believed in life after death. Am I right?” I nodded. “And you said you did not. Am I correct in that?”

I nodded again, “Yes, but what does that have to do with this?”

Prue’s eyes grew fiery. “It has everything to do with it! That’s the whole point of this experiment; this research.” He took a deep breath. “My father founded Sleeplux with the hope of finding proof of their being some kind of form of life after death. He believed that those who experience sleep paralysis are neither actually awake, nor asleep but rather in the spirit world; that somehow, while our body is trying to wake us up a residual spirit holds us back to tell us their story.” His father must have been the man I saw, I thought. “The technology wasn’t there when my father was attempting it but now we have the ability to project one’s experience into the mind of another person; someone capable of bringing these visions to life. That young woman, the nurse you keep seeing? Well, she also majored in art and she’s been our main artist for nearly three months now. Every night she paints someone’s experience but never have we seen experiences as vivid as yours.”

I was dumbfounded. “You’re subjecting her to this as well?” I said a slight tone of anger in my voice. “And, how did I see your father in my hallucination? How do you seem to know so much about this place; the people who lived here?

He scooted closer to me and began talking softly. “This was Barbra and Martha’s old place, back when doctors still did house visits. My father had been inducing Martha into a state of permanent sleep paralysis hoping that she could connect with her parents who’d owned this house before she inherited it. But like I said, the technology wasn’t there. There was no way to see what she was seeing but now we can!” The look on my face must have clued him off to what I was thinking. “Listen to me; we only need you here one more night, maybe two, and I think we can build a strong enough case to make this more mainstream. We know how to induce sleep paralysis we can help people. We just need to do a few more trials.”

I was becoming angrier by the minute. “Regular people don’t need this!” I said, “Regular people don’t want to relieve the final moments of their loved ones lives. They just want to be with them; this can’t do that. I’ve felt inches from death for two nights in a row; I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. This can’t work Prue. It’s a lost cause.”

He face turns red and he leaned in, only a few inches from my face and said, “It has to.” Snatching up the paintings, he stormed from the room. As soon as I felt he was out of earshot, I grabbed my bag of clothes, threw them on and ran from the building ignoring every call for me as I went. Prue yelled out, the receptionist yelled out but I didn’t care. Stepping out into the sunlight felt surreal. Finally, I was feeling light that wasn’t artificial. A few seconds of blinking my eyes and shielding them from the sun and then I was in my car and on my way home. Prue chased my car for at least half a mile before falling to his knees, crying.

Back home I locked all my doors and windows and just sat there for a moment trying to think of what to do. I thought about the money I’d left, I thought about how they still had my cell phone, but mostly I thought about that nurse, who was younger than me, no doubt just out of college, being forced to see the things that I saw; the things other people were seeing. I thought about them; the ones in the other rooms of that god-forsaken house and what they were going through. And it was all just to try and prove some crackpot theory about life after death. I finally decided the best thing to do was to try and save those people, the only way I knew how.

I looked up the number for my state’s medical board and reported Sleeplux for malpractice, gave them the address of the home they were operating from and hung up without giving a name. That was last week. Today I saw on the news that the house had been raided after someone on a late night jog heard screams coming from the house. The police found everything. In the end there were over twenty people in that house. Some of which were said to have been awake for going on two months. It was a miracle they were even alive, though, time would tell if they’d recover from it all. The nurse was reunited with her family. Apparently she’d been reported missing two weeks after graduating and moving here, to Washington, to start an internship at a small private practice. Her parents hadn’t heard from her for over 5 months.

As far as Doc Prue goes, he was charged with numerous this; false imprisonment, kidnapping, and many other egregious things I’ll spare you the details of. I’m not sure how much time he’ll get but I doubt he’s going to get off easy. As far as me, I’m doing okay; as best I can anyway. My episodes are more frequent now, no doubt because of stress, but I’ve yet to have an experience like I had in that place; I just the other people who were in there far longer than me fair better. With that said, I can’t help but think about what I did see while I was there… I can’t deny that Prue, or his father rather, had discovered something. You can call it spirits projecting their memories on you, you can call it life after death; call it whatever you want. I’ll just say this… Next time you experience sleep paralysis, don’t be so quick to write it off as a hallucination.