It felt like a heavy boulder was pressing down on her body. She tried to move her hands and feet, but her body was frozen in place.
As she slowly opened her eyes, the dimly lit room came into view. The streetlight outside filtered through the white curtains, casting a faint glow.
“Haa… ugh.”
Tae-eun tried to take a deep breath, but a sharp pain in her chest forced a painful groan out of her. In response to her sound, a dark figure in the corner began to rise.
She squeezed her eyes shut, pretending not to see it. Maybe falling back asleep was the wisest choice. By morning, this sleep paralysis would be gone.
But the feeling of being watched persisted. The pressure weighing on her body grew heavier. Despite her best efforts to move, she remained immobilized.
What if she never woke up from this?
Anxiety rose to her throat. The constant sensation of being watched kept her from falling asleep. So she decided to open her eyes. Not being able to see was only making her more tense.
The dark figure stood by the window, blocking the faint light from the streetlamp. Its elongated shape looked more like the shadow of a lamppost than a person.
The shadow, as if it had eyes, stared right at her. She measured the distance between the bed and the shadow, hoping it wouldn’t get any closer.
Time seemed to stretch on endlessly as she locked eyes with the shadow.
Then, feet appeared in her line of sight. Several thin, black lines fragmented her vision. Her eyes, which had been fixed on the window, slowly traveled upward.
She met the gaze of a woman with a ghostly pale face. The woman was perched on her chest, looking down at her. The woman’s long black hair hung down like curtains, isolating her from the world.
She then jumped on Tae-eun’s chest. The shock felt like her body was splitting apart. She passed out without even a scream.
“Mom…”
Awakened drenched in sweat, Tae-eun confirmed she could move her fingers. She quickly got out of bed, not even bothering with the pain as she banged her thigh against the nightstand. She ran to her parents’ bedroom.
“Mom! Mom! Dad!”
She pounded desperately on the closed door, then burst in without waiting for an answer. Her sleepy parents and their dog slowly roused.
“Mom…”
“Are you okay, Tae-eun? Tae-eun?”
Unable to respond properly, she buried her face in her mother’s lap, trembling. When her dad turned on the light, the room came into view.
“Did you have a bad dream? Are you okay?”
“Uh, I had sleep paralysis again…”
“Again?”
She couldn’t lift her head, so the dog nudged her with its wet nose, sniffing her. The warm breath from the dog finally started to calm her down.
“There was a woman… she was jumping on my chest.”
Her parents’ hands, which had been comforting her, paused. She could sense them exchanging looks without needing to see.
“Tae-eun.”
Her mother called her name. Her father’s hand resumed its soothing motion on her back.
“You’ll sleep here with us tonight, and tomorrow we’ll go early to pay our respects to our ancestors, okay?”
Tae-eun looked up at her parents, their faces grave.
“What’s that all about?”
“It’s a place where they pray for children who can’t sleep or cry a lot, to help them sleep better.”
“I’m not a kid anymore.”
“Even adults get scared sometimes. Don’t worry, just sleep.”
Her father fetched an extra pillow from the closet and placed it in the middle of the bed. As Tae-eun lay between her parents, Dodam came over and settled beside her. Her racing heart gradually began to calm down.
She stared blankly at the ceiling, her fingers entwined with Dodam’s soft fur.
Her father was known for his loud snoring, which her mother always complained about. But that dawn, until the faint light seeped in, she didn’t hear his snores. Only her mother’s occasional deep sighs broke the silence.
***
Following her mother’s instructions, Tae-eun packed comfortable clothes she could wear all day and left the house. The sun hadn’t yet risen when they arrived at the shaman’s house, and the surroundings were still bathed in a bluish hue.
Expecting a remote, eerie country house, she was surprised when her parents pulled into an old apartment complex in the city.
When they rang the doorbell, a seemingly ordinary woman in her seventies answered. Her gaze was neither sharp nor intimidating; she looked like any grandmother from the neighborhood.
“Come in.”
The shaman led them to a small room. Inside, there was a table set up like an ancestral altar, except that instead of cooked rice, the bowls contained raw rice, and instead of ancestral tablets, there were Buddhist paintings and statues.
Tae-eun glanced around the dim room and the peculiar setup with anxious eyes. If her parents hadn’t been with her, she would have run away long ago.
The shaman bowed to the Buddhist paintings and statues before sitting down. When her father handed over several ten-thousand won bills, the shaman placed a bill on each bowl of raw rice.
Then, she began muttering words that seemed directed at no one in particular.
“This child has been paralyzed in her sleep, seeing apparitions, and she’s very frightened. She used to eat well, but now she’s struggling and even vomiting.”
The shaman’s prayer sounded almost like a chant. Perhaps it was because her dialect was soft and leisurely.
“Please remove all the bad things she’s seen and experienced. I’m asking for this prayer. Let her sleep peacefully without vomiting when she returns home.”
As she muttered the prayer, the shaman gestured to Tae-eun’s mother, who then pulled Tae-eun closer to the shaman.
The shaman took some alcohol from a cup and lightly sprinkled it on the sweatshirt Tae-eun was holding. Then, she placed the shirt on Tae-eun’s head and pretended to press it down forcefully.
Under the shirt, Tae-eun rolled her eyes. Did this really work? But her parents’ expressions were so serious that she couldn’t afford to show any doubt.
The ritual ended with the shaman burning white paper and letting it fly out the window. Looking like an ordinary old woman again, she called Tae-eun’s name solemnly.
“Song Tae-eun.”
“Yes, yes?”
Startled, Tae-eun replied, and the shaman gently held and patted her hands.
“Oh, our Tae-eun is here?”
She handed Tae-eun a few grains of raw rice. Her mother whispered for her to swallow them without chewing. Tae-eun reluctantly forced the scratchy grains down her throat, doubting their freshness.
“Now, everything will be fine.”
The shaman’s final words sounded as reassuring as a doctor’s declaration that the surgery went well.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Her father expressed gratitude and quietly placed an envelope with fifty thousand won bills on the table before leaving the room. Tae-eun followed, carrying her sweatshirt, without looking back.
“Keep wearing that shirt today.”
Her mother emphasized as she got into the car. Tae-eun asked with a reluctant expression.
“Even to bed?”
“Yes. You can change tomorrow.”
She stared out the window at the breaking dawn, letting out a silent sigh. With her period, vomiting, sleep paralysis, and the exorcism ritual, her body felt utterly exhausted, and yet, the day was just beginning.
***
When Tae-eun entered Hajung café 61, Hyun-ho stared at her without even greeting her. She looked over her shoulder, wondering if someone was behind her.
“Busy morning?”
His voice had a strangely sharp edge to it. His uncanny intuition left her gaping.
“I sent you a message, but you didn’t reply.”
“Oh… sorry. I didn’t see it.”
She quickly checked her phone, apologizing. In her rush since the early, dark hours of the morning, she had forgotten to respond to his “Did you sleep well?” message.
“I had to go somewhere.”
“Where did you go?”
“Do you know about exorcism rituals?”
His lips twisted into a smirk, and his light brown eyes grew cold. His sudden thuggish demeanor made her flinch.
“I do.”
He answered curtly and stepped closer to her, his gaze swiftly scanning her outfit from head to toe.
“Did you go there? Why?”
Tae-eun tried to shake off the intimidation she felt from him, standing so close their shoes were nearly touching, exuding an icy aura.
“I had sleep paralysis last night. It was terrifying. A ghost jumped on my chest. I ran straight to my parents’ room and cried, so they took me there at four in the morning.”
She tried to explain the urgent events of the previous night, not understanding why he seemed angry. But the more she talked, the stiffer his face became. He looked more upset than when she had thrown up the previous day.
“It was a really strange place. Just an ordinary house with Buddha statues in the room, and they made me swallow raw rice…”
As Tae-eun continued to elaborate, Ji Hyun-ho’s lips remained tightly pressed together, not giving any reaction. Her voice trailed off, unable to finish her explanation.
“You must have been really scared from the sleep paralysis.”
His concerned voice finally broke the silence. Her gaze, which had fallen, immediately sought his eyes.
“Are you tired from not sleeping well?”
“I’m fine. I slept with my parents in their room.”
She felt relieved when he finally spoke and smiled sheepishly. In truth, she was still scared to go back to her room, but she didn’t mention that.
Hyun-ho tucked her hair behind her ear and gently touched her earlobe. She swallowed nervously without realizing it.
“Do you want to sleep together tonight?”
🍉🍉🍉
