It started when I was 16. I was an only child, living with my mother and father. Every night I would wake up at 2:16am exactly. No dopiness, no tiredness, nothing. I would sit bolt upright, for a reason unknown to me, and I would listen. I would see nothing in the pitch black of my room, I would hear nothing in my silent house. For 5 minutes, until 2:21am, I would listen hard. At first, I heard nothing. 5 minutes of being totally alert, totally unable to switch off, hearing not a single sound. Then, as quickly as the alertness came, it faded, and I’d fall fast asleep.

This went on for a few weeks, every night the same. I didn’t think much of it. I wasn’t scared very easily; this was more puzzling than anything else. Around a month or so into the awakenings, I heard the first sound. It was so close to being inaudible, I almost thought I imagined it. A soft footfall outside my door, on the stairs leading up to my attic room.

The next night, another step taken, yet still incredibly quiet, as if on tiptoes. Still, I was more puzzled than scared, but it was starting to become a little strange. This progressed, night after night, the footsteps growing louder and louder, closer and closer up the 12 stairs to my room.

On the fifth night, I tried to get out of my bed to investigate during the awakening. But I couldn’t move. It didn’t feel like paralysis; it felt like my body wasn’t my own, as if I had no control; as if all I had was consciousness and no physical input. I started to become scared.