Talk me to sleep

Important: This may sound like sleep paralysis, but I don't know if it is or not. I wrote this based on what I go through. Ever since I can remember I don't move after I have a nightmare, but it always feels like it is my choice not to move, so I don't associate that with the description of sleep paralysis episodes. I'm always aware that I could move if I tried to, that's why I think it's a fear reflex, simply. This is just so no one says I didn't write things correctly or something. I did, because this is just what I go through.
I'm writing this now because I've been having an awful time sleeping lately, maybe this will be a way of getting rid of things from my head.

Okay I hope you enjoy!

There's a woman by the window.

He can see her silhouette from the corner of his eye.

Every hair dusting his cold skin lifts up and brushes against his clothes like a cactus. Slowly, carefully, he turns his head. Scared to confirm that she's there even though he already has the answer. He felt her before. Been feeling her for weeks, now. A slight movement as he twists his head in the kitchen. A weird sensation as he sits alone in the living room at night. Locking every window in the house, only to find them unlocked a few hours later.

But now, now she's here.
Now he caught her.
Perhaps, she caught him.

He finally sees her. Her big, open, frozen eyes lock with his. She's smiling through the other side of the glass. A continuous string of blood pulses crowd his ears so there's nothing else he can hear but his own terror.
He's unsafe, trapped.

Please, let that window be locked. I locked it today. I did. I remember.

She doesn't move. The smile doesn't falter. Her eyes never leave him.

He tries not to blink but the burning sensation becomes unbearable. And just before it happens against his command, he swears her smile twitches.
She's not there when he opens his eyes.

The first thought is: she's gone.
But the second, most likely, one is: now she's inside the house.

He pushes that horrible image out of his head with an audible gulp and walks towards the window on uneasy steps. What if she jumps onto the glass while he's close to it? What if her face doesn't look normal anymore?

He locks it, again, just before he hears something coming from the next room so, naturally, he runs over there in hopes he can lock everything in time.
But when he bursts through the bedroom door, the room is freezing. The curtains are moving with the air coming in through the open glass.

She's there. One leg over the windowsill, the same smile on her lips and the same big, wide eyes staring back at him.

With an unlikely bravery, he storms over to her and that seems to be enough to scare the woman away. She looks startled for a moment, jumps away from the house, and disappears like before.

He takes a minute to catch his breath and try to make sense of the situation. But he isn't fooled.
Without wasting a second, he closes that same window. He wants to check every part of the house again, but something tells him to go back in the other room, first.

That's what he does, determined to keep this person away from his home. His steps echo through the walls but the sound is still being muffled under his heartbeat. As he rounds the corner of the doorway, he barely has time to acknowledge the window is, once more, wide open.

They lock eyes.

She's smiling.

She's hiding under the dining table.