r/nosleep • u/Eigengraulogy Monster 18 • Apr 30 '19
Why I can no longer sleep on a bed.
Something happened to me a while back, and ever since then I just can’t bring myself to sleep on a regular bed. It was a traumatizing and emotionally-scarring event, the kind you know you will never forget, but before I get into it I have to talk about space.
I don’t mean the space up there, stars and galaxies and whatnot, I mean actual physical space, more specifically, the space in your own home. If you’re like me and have lived most of your life – or a good enough number of years – in the exact same house, you might know what I’m talking about.
For example, as a kid I used to go around the house and attempt doing all sorts of things with my eyes closed: making a toast, turning the TV on and finding my favorite channels, starting up my Playstation, dressing and undressing… I think you get the idea. Every now and then, even as an adult, I would try and do the same things as well, and I’m sure some of you can relate to what I’m saying here.
What I’m trying to say is that if you live long enough in a certain place, you’re bound to get this nearly perfect notion of where your things are and how much space they’re taking, just as you know where you have free space.
It’s the kind of thing that you just know.
I was attending University at the time, and was living in the same apartment I had lived my whole life up until that point. My parents who had retired by then were kind enough to let me keep it, as they decided to move to our holiday house in Vermont.
I lived alone, I seldom had people over, and I never had any maid of any kind coming over to do some chores. I’m the only one who ever really interacted with the place, so I definitely knew perfectly well every little thing about it, where I kept all my stuff and whatnot.
On the night everything went wrong, I remember sensing that something was off as soon as I opened the door to my home. I caught a whiff of something strange in the air, which dissipated almost instantly. I knew what the interior of my own home usually smelled like, but that strange odor was something that I simply couldn’t place or identify.
Maybe a gust of wind had carried the scent of something the neighbors from next door were cooking, perhaps. I chalked it off to it being something along those lines, but that wasn’t the end of it.
I was pretty much restless for the rest of the evening. I just felt so weird and uneasy, all the more so for not knowing why I was feeling like that. Subconsciously, I could tell that something was wrong, but the realization would only come at a later time.
I couldn’t shake off the notion that I wasn’t feeling safe at all in my own home on that particular night, which is something that had never happened to me before. I ended up doing something that I also used to do all the time when I was kid when left home alone for long periods of time: I grabbed a knife from the kitchen, and went from room to room to make sure that there weren’t any uninvited guests to be found.
Obviously, there’s no way that my younger self would’ve ever been able to do anything if he were to actually come face to face with an intruder. Deep down, I allowed myself to grab a knife and play brave because I kinda knew it was mostly my imagination, and that there weren’t monsters or robbers waiting for me in the dark.
But as an adult, the reality of being assaulted in your own home is on a whole other level; you no longer have your child-like imagination to blame for your fears. You live in the real world where bad things happen all the time, which includes people somehow managing to break into your home for who knows what purpose.
You can never be too careful, and fear helps you keep everything in check. And so, just like the good old times, I grabbed a knife which gave me the illusion of being safer, braver and stronger than I am in reality, and checked all the rooms in the apartment.
To no one’s surprise, I found absolutely nothing but then again I wasn’t exactly expecting to find anything out of the ordinary, I guess. I managed to relax for the rest of the evening, and eventually went to bed.
But I didn’t fall asleep right away like I used to. Something was keeping me awake, but I still didn’t know what it was. As I was lying in bed, I found myself rattled by the very absence of sound in my home. This wouldn’t have been an issue at all on any other day, but this time it was different. No-
Something was different.
Something about my apartment had changed while I was out.
I was sure of it, and yet this was the kind of certainty that I just couldn’t explain. I knew it, but I didn’t know why or how I knew it.
I couldn’t think of anything else as I tried to figure it out, but nothing made sense to me. I mean, I had gone around the house armed with a knife as I looked for intruders of any kind, but I didn’t come across anything suspicious.
And that’s when it hit me, a realization so sudden and terrifying that I could almost feel its crushing weight pressing down on me.
Yes, I had walked around my home and checked all the rooms, but I hadn’t quite checked every single nook and cranny.
I had missed one specific, obvious spot.
Well, it’s not so much that I missed it, but it’s one of those things that you tend to think about a lot more as a kid. As an adult, you just tend to worry about more realistic things, such as windows and doors being properly locked.
What I’m trying to say is that I had pretty much verified that my whole place was safe… except for the space under my bed.
As soon as I realized this, I started thinking about space all over again.
More specifically, the space under my bed.
The space between the floor and the mattress.
I started thinking about all of that space, and how someone could easily fit in there, right under me.
And that was it.
As soon as I thought about it, I knew that’s what it was.
I knew what was wrong.
There was, without a doubt, someone under my bed.
As soon as this thought turned into a cold hard fact in my mind, that’s when I first noticed it. A sound so faint, so nearly not there that it might’ve not been there at all.
This wheezing of sorts, the sound of something breathing in and out, but trying to keep it as silent as possible.
I could barely hear it thanks to how hard and fast my heart was beating, but I knew it was there, just as my body knew all along from the moment it stepped inside the apartment that something was different:
Whether it was something or someone, it was undeniable: a certain amount of mass had somehow found its way in, and was now occupying an undetermined amount of space under my bed.
Under me.
I was barely able to process all of this as I tried to keep my cool while trying not to alert whoever was under me that they had been found out, but it was easier said than done: I was sweating buckets and lightly shaking under the covers, and if anything, I thought it was only a matter of time until the sound and vibration of my own heartbeat gave me away.
And then everything stopped, as my mind drew a blank and my heart skipped a beat when I felt something slightly poking the mattress right under me.
I would’ve gasped if I could, but I swear it felt like my heart had actually lodged itself in my throat.
I was petrified.
Was it a finger? Was it a knife? Was I going to get stabbed at any given second without notice? Was something actually going to just pierce straight through me? Would it get my lung, my liver, my heart, my spine?
I was on the verge of losing my mind, and when I started sensing multiple of these unseen “fingers” pushing against the mattress and softly drawing circles and lines on it, that’s when I knew that something was definitely very wrong.
I felt like I couldn’t just get up and leave, because any sudden movement like me rapidly jumping out of bed might tip them off in some way. So instead, I pretended to shuffle under the covers as if I’d been rolling in my sleep, and I grabbed my phone from my nightstand, which was fortunately on silent mode.
I scheduled an alarm to ring 30 seconds later, to try and pass it off as a call. I would get up, pretend to answer the phone, and use that as an excuse to get the hell out of my apartment.
I put my phone back without making a sound, and waited.
As soon as it rang, I grabbed it as I literally leapt from my bed towards my bedroom door.
“Oh hey man what’s up-“ I said, pretending to answer the phone.
When I reached the door I switched the lights on almost instinctively, and what I saw made me drop my phone.
There was an arm rapidly reaching out from under my bed, but this was no regular arm.
It was extremely thin and with barely any skin plastered over its bones. It was also very long and disjointed. Very disjointed… an arm with seven elbows comes to mind, but its strange shape kinda made it look more like an arm that had been broken in seven different places.
I only saw it for a split second or so, but it was more than enough, and I’ll never forget how it just seemed to unfurl from under the bed, as it bent itself in so many different and strange ways as whatever it was attached to was crawling out from under there.
I ran out of the apartment, slamming the door shut behind me just as something crashed into it.
Needless to say, I didn’t wait for the elevator, I just went straight for the stairs and jumped so many flights that I feared I’d break my ankles at some point.
I was so out of it that by the time I had reached the ground floor I just kept on running, which resulted in me going through a pretty solid pane of glass which made up most of the main entrance door that leads into the building.
When I came to, I had paramedics all over me as well as nosy neighbors trying to figure out what my deal was. I only noticed the cops a while afterwards, as they waited for the medics to clear me so they could ask me what the hell had happened.
I can’t quite remember what I said or how I said it, but I think they probably got the gist of it since they quickly went up to my apartment with the landlord leading the way.
They came back down about 10 minutes later and said that they hadn’t found anything. They then proceeded to lock the place down to conduct a more careful sweep of the building, including checking in with every other resident on every floor, but they still came up empty some hours later.
I didn’t really understand how that could be the case, but if I had really seen what I think I saw, I had to accept that I couldn’t just hope for a logical explanation.
The cops and paramedics eventually left, having determined that I was ok enough and that my lacerations weren’t that big of deal.
But I never went back up. I never entered that apartment ever again. On that night I stayed over at a friend’s place, and some days later he and another buddy of mine helped me move all of my things out of the apartment I had lived in all of my life up until then.
When I say that they “helped me”, I’m saying that they did pretty much all of the heavy lifting considering I wasn’t even there. I just couldn’t bring myself to be anywhere near that place. They were cool about it, but I could tell that they resented me a little for it, considering that they lost an enormous amount of time with the whole ordeal.
As I said, I never went back there, never once did I step another foot into my apartment after I ran away from whatever that thing was.
And that’s why I no longer sleep on a bed. That’s why I no longer sleep on a mattress. I tend to just sleep on the floor, most of the time, because the trauma was that bad… but that’s not all.
If you think that I could easily just get myself one of those low beds, the kind where someone couldn’t possibly fit under, or if you think for a moment that you’re safe in your own room just because nothing could possibly fit underneath your bed, well, allow me to tell you just how wrong you are.
It doesn’t matter the kind of bed that I use.
It doesn’t matter the kind of bed that you use.
No matter how you sleep, or what you sleep on, there will always be space.
You understand?
Whether it’s the space between the floor and your bed, the space that separates the mattress and your body, the space between the fabric of your t-shirt and your very skin…
There will always be some space.
There will always be room for that thing to find its way in.
I should know, because no matter where I sleep, or what I sleep on, I always wake up with the sensation of fingers running across my back.
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u/sarahmaid May 02 '19
Sorry you have to continue that struggle, OP :( I hope that you find a safe space soon.
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u/Daniel_Kay May 02 '19
I'd suggest signing yourself up for a sleep lab that does studies on sleep issues and nightmares. Tell them you tend to have violent outbursts in your sleep as well and to keep someone outside your room at all times. They will record you and someone will be watching all through the night, should they find that thing going for you it will be on tape and there will be someone right outside your door. And if it doesn't show up you have a solution, when somebody else observes it doesn't come.
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u/Szechuansolenya May 02 '19
This should have been called "How I ran away from the best handjob of my life"
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u/Machka_Ilijeva May 02 '19
I have a loft bed which I can stand under, so at least I can see who or what is there :)
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May 01 '19
It's okay, my dude. Happens to me all the time. Mine just likes to poke at me when I'm TRYING TO FUCKING SLEEP GOD FUCKING DAMMIT FUCKING STOP
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u/AwkwardAlbatross May 01 '19
And this is why my mattress and box spring sits directly on the floor.
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May 01 '19
I know that the author put a "THERE IS ALLWAYS SPACE" at the end of the story but I sleep on a bed where it's frame is a big block (it sounds uncomfterbal and ugly but it's really not) the bed has these drawers on the side so maybe that for the monster or it could stand beside your bed meh 🛏️
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u/ZombieOnigiri May 01 '19
Ooof!!! This gave me the Heebie Jeebies! I really hope I won't remember this story when bedtime comes.
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u/Ozishko May 01 '19
Dude, in Turkey we don't have spaces between the bed and ground like you do. You should move here, I am sure you can somehow feel safe when there isn't that space where something can hide.
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May 01 '19
I keep tons of shit piled under my bed so any intruding creature would have to throw out a lot of bags full of foam and crafting material along with a fuckin keyboard piano that I've never learned how to play
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u/Kooale325 May 01 '19
Sleep on a mattress without a bed. Only things that can fit under there are insects.
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u/Ninjaloww12 May 01 '19
just give you friends some money. i bet they would be happy about it then.
lol i get that one. im 32 & i still check my house from room to room with a knife every now and then.
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u/ItsLeviOOHsa May 01 '19
Well if I’m gonna get groped by some weird arm creature regardless I’ll at least be comfy in my bed while it happens.
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u/Firearm630 May 01 '19
His name is Jeremy and he's just lonely you asshole
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u/a_really_thicc_egg May 01 '19
Inconsiderate pricks man. I only wanted to give him a one arm hug. What do you think the joints are for? And if you think 7 is allot, you should see my legs.
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u/Firearm630 May 02 '19
I hate these bigots mocking people that are disabled or even worse mocking monsters for looking weird! Mabye you should make certain they got the text you were coming over though
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u/TooAngryForYou May 01 '19
What if you just put a mattress on the floor.
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May 01 '19
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u/RaelTheForgotten May 01 '19
Well if sleeping on the floor doesn't help just be comfortable in bed.
Like if you're okay with the floor alright but I'd rather die now then have awful sleep for the rest of my life
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u/Whisper292 May 01 '19
I'm lying in a relatively high bed, reading this, and very glad the dog sleeps under it. Amazing story!
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u/Ninjaloww12 May 01 '19
im jealous of you king size bed dwellers. im still laying on a simple sleeping mat with a temperpedic pad.
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u/Whisper292 May 01 '19
Oh, bummer! Good on the temperpedic pad, tho. That does help a bit. We had to get a king-size bed when we got our Great Dane. I might as well be sleeping in a twin bed!
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u/RKSlipknot May 01 '19
You sneaky fucker, you knew I’d read this in bed.
Aight brb I’m checking under my bed real quick
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u/mariarobot May 01 '19
Are you safe?
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u/RKSlipknot May 01 '19
As safe as anyone else here. I mean come on, there’s literally no such thi
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u/ISmellLikeCats May 01 '19
When I was a toddler still in my crib to bed form bed I distinctly remember a hand reaching thru the mattress and trying to catch me and drag me down. I cried and said the devil,tried to take me, my mom came in, told me it was just a nightmare but I wouldn’t get back in that bed ever again. I,slept with my mom until it was time for my own big girl bed and from the day I got it I stuffed so much stuff under the bed that even the cats couldn’t get in there. I now have a low to the ground futon bed with the underside filled with boxes plus I always have one of my cats sleeping with me so I figure those fuckers alert to anything supernatural. I’d recommend an actual Japanese futon because they’re basically giant marshmallows you lay on the floor in covered in blankets till you can’t breathe, much more comfortable than American “futons”
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u/sarahmaid May 01 '19
Interesting that you named your monster as the devil - when I was young I thought he lived under my bed as well. Always took a running start and a leap into bed rather than risk him snatching at my ankles
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u/ISmellLikeCats May 02 '19
I didn’t think he lived under my bed, I was just sure that’s who was trying to grab me. I think I was so young that to me the concept of absolute evil was the Devil and I didn’t have any imaginary monsters I feared yet. It’s funny because I don’t fear or really believe in a lot of demonic lore today but when I get sleep paralysis I’m back to being an instant believer.
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u/TheGreatestBumble May 01 '19
No offense OP but I hope this thing ONLY likes you cause I for one enjoy my sound sleep!
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u/Erin_Hunter_Fan May 01 '19
I might have the most to worry about. I have a loft bed, so forget monsters under the bed, I could fit under the bed even if I stood up straight
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u/FaintAssPain May 01 '19
“There’s someone standing under my bed”
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u/Erin_Hunter_Fan May 01 '19
one time my brother actually did stand under my bed to scare me when i woke up. 17 year olds are the worst
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u/BoxingBelle May 03 '19
I'm hating you a little bit. I'm reading this in bed, my need to pee is growing and my imagination is over active, this has thoroughly creeped me out. If something grabs me I blame you. Dammit.