Was it sleep paralysis or a haunted sofa-cum-bed?

There’s no such thing as ghosts…there’s no such thing as ghosts… 

Trigger warning: Depictions of sleep paralysis and supernatural experiences

That first night it happened, we were startled awake by banging sounds on the bedroom door. It was 3.30 AM, and I was asleep in the room I shared with my flatmate Ananya*, while our third flatmate, Shilpa*, slept in the hall on a sofa-cum-bed. But after that night, she never slept outside again.

We found Shilpa looking terrified. As we tried to calm her down, wondering what had happened, she rushed inside the bedroom and locked the door. She was sleeping here, she declared, with the door locked. We were still groggy, so we didn’t enquire further, and went back to sleep.

The next morning, Shilpa narrated her story. She had awoken with a start in the middle of the night, and realised that none of her body parts would move, except her eyes. She then felt a pressure on her chest. It seemed like someone was sitting on her, their knees and legs dangling in front of her. But she was unable to turn towards their face and see who it was, or scream for help.

Ananya and I didn’t know what to make of this. The three of us were 20-somethings who worked hard, partied a lot and never slept enough. “You might have had too much to drink,” was our first reaction, followed by, “You need a break, you’re overtired”. But, of course, when a flatmate you share space with has an experience like this, you want to know what the heck is going on.

So, we turned to Google uncle and looked up all kinds of things, until finally, the term ‘sleep paralysis’ came up. At this point, we’d never heard of sleep paralysis—when you wake up from your sleep but can’t move, like your brain has hit the snooze button on your body. Sometimes this is accompanied by hallucinations, or a feeling of pressure on your chest. The more we read up on it, the more it made sense that, yes, this is what it was. A singular experience, nothing more. But we were wrong.

Some time had passed, and now it was Ananya who slept in the hall instead of Shilpa. Now, the two of them had completely contrasting personalities. Unlike Shilpa, Ananya wasn’t easily frightened. But one morning, as the clock struck 3.30 AM, we were jolted awake by Ananya’s scream: “What the f*ck is going on?!”

We rushed outside and found her pacing the room in distress. Confused, we joined her search and combed through the entire apartment. Why was she doing this? “What happened to Shilpa happened to me as well,” she said. “I was completely paralysed and I could see someone walking around.”

Again, we told ourselves we were partying too much and not sleeping enough. We’re exhausted. Ananya agreed, but no one wanted to sleep outside. The two of them speculated that the sofa-cum-bed was the common link in their sleep paralysis experiences. But in my mind, we couldn’t determine a pattern based on two incidents. Little did I know I would be next.

I can’t recall the exact time I woke up, but just like my flatmates, my body was completely immobilised. I reminded myself that there’s a scientific explanation for this, repeating it again and again, like a mantra. Because at that point, I began to discern a blurry figure. From my perspective, I could see this person moving up and down the rectangular room. Then, I began to hear unintelligible whispers. I panicked. Finally, after what felt like hours, I could move again. I checked the time; it was around 4 AM.

The next day, we got rid of the sofa-cum-bed. We moved it to the terrace of our 1BHK where no one would use it for sleeping purposes anymore. We also completely rearranged the hall to eliminate any bad juju. Plus, we made new rules for ourselves: we would eat healthy, prioritise sleep, and not drink too much.

Spooked as we were, we weren’t convinced that our shared experiences implied the presence of a ghost or some paranormal activity, because there were no other incidents of this nature. And so, life went on. Eventually, Shilpa moved out, Ananya returned to her hometown, and I decided to shift homes.

It was moving day, and all my stuff had been packed up and transferred. The house was almost bare save for a solitary mattress, a huge six-foot-high mirror, and a handbag. It was my last night in this house, and I fell asleep around midnight. It had been a busy time for me at work, with no drinking or partying.

I awoke suddenly, glanced at my Blackberry phone and saw that it was 3.30 AM. Once again, I was unable to move. In the mirror in front of me, I could see a reflection. It was a figure draped in a grey cloak, with a burnt face, white hair and some bald patches. This figure walked back and forth, from the hall to the bedroom, close to my head. They did this repeatedly.

At this point, I was freaking out. I tried to rationalise the situation, recalling lines from the sleep paralysis Wikipedia page, but what was happening in front of me felt too real. We had read about the ‘night hag’, and that’s precisely what I was seeing. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the imagery, watching helplessly as the figure went in and out of the room, their cloak dragging on the floor near me.

This lasted about half an hour. As soon I could move again, I called my brother and urged him to come get me. I couldn’t stay there any longer. I grabbed my bag, locked the apartment door and left. Downstairs, the security guard noticed I was visibly shaken and asked, “Madam, kya dekh liya? (What have you seen?)” I stayed silent, not wanting to cause a scene in the society. When my brother arrived, he asked for an explanation, but all I could manage to say was to take me away. I was never a religious person, but that day I found myself clutching a murti of Lord Ganesh, and reciting every prayer I could remember.

Now, whenever I narrate this story to anyone, their response is usually dismissive: “Oh, that’s just sleep paralysis.” But the three of us still can’t shake away some unresolved questions: Why that precise spot? Why that exact time? And why have neither Ananya, Shilpa, nor I experienced something similar ever again after leaving that house? I have friends whose sleep paralysis is triggered by a variety of reasons, regardless of their location. Yet, for us, it was exclusively confined to that house.

Perhaps there’s a subconscious manifestation at play. It’s the explanation we give ourselves, when doubts arise. We shared the story too many times amongst ourselves, or, we read too much about it. It left an imprint on our psyche, and that’s why I saw the ‘old hag’ later. But even after all this time, a sense of unease persists.

We can rationalise 80% of it, but the lingering 20% is still unexplained.

*Names changed upon contributor’s request for anonymity. This is an anonymous account, as told to Sara Hussain.