Flash Fiction, Shorts

The Old Hag Pt. 2

I saw it again. The Old Hag has returned. 

I couldn’t keep sleep off for long, and eventually resigned myself to it. Bouts of sleep paralysis plague me every night, and I keep holding onto a faint hope that I’ll be able to snap myself out of it the next time. That I won’t see the Old Hag again. 

I’ve begun to do a little research, and it seems that ‘m not the only one. People all around the world have reported similar experiences. Some say that its merely a phenomena of the subconscious, a kind of waking dream. Others are equally sure that its a demon come to press judgement on those who have done wrong.

No one has come up with a definitive answer to the question of what the Old Hag really is. I’ve made it my own personal mission to unravel this mystery. I’ve been keeping a journal in which I take notes on everything I can, and I’ll be starting some interviews next week with other victims. 

I hope to discover the truth behind the Old Hag. I hope to put an end to it. 

Hope is all I have left. 

 

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