The Ghost That Held Me Down

3 min read

Story Premise 3 min read (402 words)

"It was around two in the morning when I turned off my bedroom light. I stretched out on my bed, one arm resting above my head, the other lying beside me. My eyes grew heavy, and I was ready to drift off. Then I felt it. A strange tickling sensation on my wrist. At first, […]"

It was around two in the morning when I turned off my bedroom light. I stretched out on my bed, one arm resting above my head, the other lying beside me. My eyes grew heavy, and I was ready to drift off.

Then I felt it.

A strange tickling sensation on my wrist. At first, I thought it was just an itch. I tried to lift my arm to scratch it—but I couldn’t. Confused, I tried moving my other arm. It wouldn’t budge either.

That’s when the pressure started.

Something unseen was pressing down on both my arms, holding me in place. My chest tightened as fear crept in. I opened my eyes, staring into the darkness, but I couldn’t see anything. I tried to call out, but my voice wouldn’t come. My arms started to ache under the invisible weight.

And then… my hands started moving.

Not by me.

My fingers curled, then stretched, as if something was forcing them open and closed. My breath caught in my throat. It wasn’t just pressure anymore—it was control. Something was playing with my hands like a puppet.

Fifteen minutes. That’s how long it went on.

Then, as suddenly as it began, the weight lifted. I gasped, yanking my arms close to my body. My heart pounded. I turned onto my side, telling myself it was over.

It wasn’t.

A cold presence settled behind me. It wasn’t just a feeling—I could sense it. Something—or someone—was there. And then, I felt it wrap around me.

Invisible arms, locking me in place.

I wanted to scream, but nothing came out. The tingling feeling returned, washing over my skin like static. For two endless minutes, I lay frozen, trapped in the ghostly embrace.

Then, just like before, it stopped.

I didn’t sleep that night.

This wasn’t the first time something strange had happened. A year ago, I woke up to the sound of my bed creaking at my feet. It was like someone had jumped onto it. The mattress even dipped under the weight. But when I reached for the light—there was nothing there.

I don’t know what it is, but it’s watching me. It’s touching me. And I don’t think it’s leaving.

The strangest part?

As I wrote this, my nose started to bleed.

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