Alex is an introverted insomniac whose nights are spent flipping through static-filled TV channels, reading by lamplight, and dodging her neighbor like it’s an Olympic sport. One stormy early morning, the lights flicker, the TV hisses, and she finds herself frozen in bed — staring at a pair of glowing red eyes in the dark.

Enter Noctis: a sharply dressed, lollipop-chewing sleep paralysis demon with manners of a stand-up comedian and the persistence of an uninvited guest. He claims he’s here for “professional reasons,” but his real talent lies in chipping away at Alex’s carefully built walls — sometimes with banter, sometimes with questionable dance moves, and sometimes with moments so sincere they catch her off guard.

As the nights unfold, Alex begins to realize that fear, like sleep paralysis, can be temporary — and that even the strangest friendships can give you the push you need to step back into the world.

I was drawn to Sweet Screams relating to Alex as a character. As I write this director’s statement at 5AM, watching the sunrise, I’m thinking about how Alex would probably procrastinate doing her part of a presentation until the night before (or I guess the morning of) as well. I too struggle with finding the motivation to do simple tasks, like clean my apartment or even go to sleep. I want to make Sweet Screams to show anyone that may relate to Alex that it’s okay to be in a funk, or be socially anxious and that there are a lot more people who relate than you would think. Facing your fears doesn’t have to be something you accomplish on your own.

It’s funny how fear, when looked at closely, can become familiar. I wanted to explore that idea through a story where the “monster under the bed” doesn’t just haunt you—it talks back, shares snacks, and forces you to face yourself.

Sweet Screams grew out of the shared experience of living with anxiety — that awkward, isolating, sometimes absurd state of mind where even saying “hi” to your neighbor can feel like skydiving without a parachute. We didn’t want to tell that story as a dry PSA or a heavy-handed drama. Instead, we’re wrapping it in humor, intimacy, and a touch of the supernatural — because sometimes laughter (and a charming sleep paralysis demon) is the only way through.

We’re making this film now because the world is noisier, more connected, and somehow lonelier than ever. People are quietly struggling behind closed doors, and stories like this remind us we’re not alone — even if our “company” shows up with glowing red eyes and a lollipop. By making Sweet Screams today, we hope to spark connection, conversation, and maybe even a few smiles in the dark.

We’re raising $6,000 to turn Sweet Screams from an eerie little idea into a fully-fledged short film that makes you laugh, squirm, and maybe even text your friends at 3 a.m. for company. That money will cover the essentials — locations that feel alive, an art department to dress every chaotic corner, transportation to keep cast and crew moving, catering and crafty to keep them alive, and paying our incredible actors for bringing Alex, Noctis, and this offbeat world to life. Beyond making a film, our goal is to craft an experience that captures the messy, funny, and strangely hopeful sides of living with anxiety — and share it with audiences at festivals and beyond.

Contribute whatever you can — every dollar makes a difference.

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THE ONLY WAY TO GET OVER YOUR FEARS IS TO GET TO KNOW THEM

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