Wellington Street

In which we take a stroll down a very strange stretch of road.


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Subject File 4 "The Intruder"

“When I was younger, I would sometimes wake up late at night, unable to move or speak. I found out that I was suffering from a very rare form of sleep paralysis, one that affects only three percent of those who suffer from it. Although many of the symptoms easily explained, the doctors couldn't explain everything. I sometimes awoke to a figure sitting on top of me, looking into my eyes. The sensation of a malevolent presence is common, and known as “the intruder.” But most of the time this isn't a visual manifestation, and never does it speak.

It began when I was around eight years old. Many people struggle to remember things from that far back, but it is hard to forget the first time it happened. I awoke suddenly in the dead of winter, the streetlamps failing to brighten my room because the shades were drawn. It was cold, and I realized that I needed to use the bathroom. Only I couldn't move at all, my eyelids refusing to close, my muscles refusing to stir. Time passed, and I began to become aware of my eyes burning, and the growing need to urinate. Minutes later I wet the bed for the first time in years. When I finally could move I began crying, screaming for my parents.My parents were horrified. My sister was fascinated.

The weeks that followed were filled with tests and doctors visits, my parents often visiting me throughout the night to make sure I was okay. Sometimes my sister would be with them. She seemed to worry about me a lot. Eventually I was given medicine as a preventative measure, but nothing was able to make it go away completely. Months passed, and though terrifying, I began to adjust to the infrequent episodes. Only one day wasn't like the others, and I awoke with a horrible sense of fear. But not like before. Instead, I felt as if someone was watching me.

At first I kept it to myself, but soon my terrors began to become more frequent. My parents had my medicine increased, and that seemed to do the trick for a while. But then my medicine began to disappear, a months supply going away as soon as my parents brought it home. At first it was simply replaced when we failed to find where it had gone. But soon my parents became upset at me, accusing me of purposefully throwing them away. I couldn't understand why they would think that, but soon I began to pretend that I was better, and that the episodes had stopped. They stopped needing to replace the medicine, but the incidents began to increase in number.

Then one day, I awoke to the sensation that something was in the room with me. At first I was able to dismiss it as being part of my condition, and though I wanted desperately to have my medicine again I would endure it if it meant my parents wouldn't be upset at me. It was a child's sort of logic, and it lasted for a while. Then one day I awoke to a figure sitting over me. Even in the dark I could tell it was staring directly into my eyes. It just sat there, looking at me, only somehow I got a sense that there was something wrong with its eyes. They were bloodshot, and never blinked.

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