It was the middle of the night. The lights were off, except for a red light that lit up the corner of the room. In the shadows, my husband stood, staring down at our son’s face as he slept soundly. He placed a hand on his chest to check if he was breathing. My son tossed and turned, startled awake, and I was reminded of the demons that have found me in the early waking hours of the morning. And with shocking clarity, one thought rang through my mind, “Is my dad my sleep paralysis demon?”
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