I haven’t always been a sleepwalker. There was a time where every night I slept through uninterrupted. But now it seems that I’ve been cursed with the inability to control what I do when my eyes close at night and I gotta tell you; it’s terrifying.
It was a huge burden on my family. Suddenly, they had to change their entire routine and very way of living just to accommodate me. I felt awful about it, but there was really no explanation; it just sort of started happening for no apparent reason.
At first; it was normal - well, relatively speaking. I would sometimes go to sleep and wake up standing in the living room or at the foot of my parents bed. That would always scare them to the point where their screams would wake me up and in turn scare ME. My mom had it the worst because dad was a heavy sleeper, so oftentimes she was the one to find me whenever it happened.
It got to a point where she couldn’t take it anymore and resorted to restraining me to my bed at night. Have you ever tried to sleep bound to your bed and restricted to nothing but your back? Call it whatever you want, I was uncomfortable and if her goal was to prevent me from sleeping altogether; it worked.
So at school, I suffered. My grades plummeted. Eventually, one of my teachers pulled me aside and asked if everything was alright. I was honest and said, “I’m just not sleeping well.” He lightly frowned but didn’t pursue the matter further.
But when I started actually falling asleep in class - that’s when my parents received a phone call. After that… my treatment got worse.
My mother began taping my eyes closed at night. I would fight back often, flailing my body in a desperate attempt to be free but it was futile. You may wonder, “How could a high schooler let themselves be restrained AND their eyelids taped over so easily?” The honest answer is, I was a small kid with not much muscle. Plus, if I fought back? My mouth would be gagged.
Well, you know how it goes. A person can only take so much for so long.
After school one day, I didn’t go home. I knew my sister would be worried, but she never attempted to help me even ONCE when our mother was strapping me down, so I didn’t care about her feelings. Dad was always asleep before I went to bed, so mom could do what she wanted and just deny it the next day if I ever said anything.
So anyway, I ran away from home - so to speak. What I really did was walk to an old camping ground that was relatively close to my school. Unbeknownst to my entire family, I had snuck one of the tents from the back shed; it was the big one too, so I thought I’d be living lavishly.
The root problem still remained. My sleepwalking.
I also took some food from home when I left, so I had just about everything I needed. How nobody noticed my absolutely bulging backpack, I’ll never know. Maybe they did see it and just chose not to care, but that didn’t bother me.
Aside from my night time antics, my only other concern was of possible delinquents choosing to make the old campground their hangout spot for the night. But when the site came into view, I saw it was unoccupied.
I set the tent up rather quickly and crawled inside eager to make my bed. Something about snuggling into a warm blanket while technically “outside” has a supremely comforting feeling. Couple that with a few scary stories and you’ve got yourself a perfect night under the stars.
Luckily, I thought ahead. I brought THREE battery banks (little charged cylinders to keep my phone going) and one of those water filtering devices for outdoor living. When I was younger, I was in the scouts and I’m still in contact with my old scout leader. He often brings me the latest in survival technology, so you could say I was all set.
Once I was settled in, I took a deep breath and pulled out a medium-sized bag of beef jerky. Expensive stuff, but delicious. It was probably around 6 PM and the sun was beginning to disappear through the trees and shadows were starting to look sinister. I failed to think about how scary it can be to be outside alone in the dark, but ANYTHING was better than how my mother treated me at home.
All would be well as long as I didn’t sleepwalk. To wake up in the middle of a dark forest would probably bring me to tears and who knows what might happen after that.
Anyway, my father was in the military and routinely acquired MRE’s that he would bring to his logging job (since he’d usually be gone for weeks at a time.) I snatched a few of them because quite frankly; they weren’t so bad. Although, I imagine if you were in the military eating them all the time; they would probably get old fast.
For a night however; they made me feel like a king.
Before I knew it, the sun had set completely and the moon had quickly risen. The reality of my situation crept in and the loneliness only grew with each passing minute. I dared not read anything scary (as I had originally planned) instead, I watched some feel good videos on YouTube. But, as I mentioned earlier, I hadn’t been sleeping well AT ALL, so I soon found myself barely able to keep my eyes open.
A heaviness fell over me as the warm embrace of sleep gently cradled me in its beckoning arms. I closed my eyes and drifted into slumber.
“Henry?” A quiet voice came that sounded far away. I felt hands on my shoulders; they were soothing and made me feel safe.
“Henry, can you hear me?” The voice said again; it steadily became apparent that it was the voice of my mother. Why I felt so protected, I couldn’t explain at the time, but I never wanted the feeling to end.
“HENRY!” She shouted and in the same instant my eyes shot open. I was standing in the middle of the living room of our home.
My first thoughts were, “Did I somehow sleepwalk ALL the way back home?” But my train of thought was interrupted by my mother who seemed oddly concerned about me; it just wasn’t like her.
“Henry, why are you standing in the living room sweetie?” She asked with a glowing smile. I couldn’t help but wonder what changed in her.
“Mom? W - why are you acting like this…?” I asked while lowering my head in defeat; it appeared I’d never be able to escape her clutches.
“Like what darling? As a concerned mother should, you mean? Because you’re my son! You shouldn’t ask such silly questions.” Now I KNEW something was up. I hadn’t heard my mother speak like that to me since before I started sleepwalking. What had gotten into her?
“You haven’t called me anything other than my name for some time now. I guess I forgot what it sounded like.”
“What?! Henry, what are you talking about? I’m your mother and you’re the light of my life! Here, come sit down in your fathers chair.” She gently pulled me over to his worn out recliner and sat me down, “Let me get you some warm milk to help settle your nerves!” She smiled again and hurried off towards the kitchen.
I didn’t say anything in return because I was at a loss for words. I mean, she WAS my mother in every way, shape and form, but something about her felt… off. I left home to get away from her overbearing antics and not to suddenly feel welcomed the moment I returned.
There was another thing I noticed too. The wallpaper in the living room was dull and torn in various places; it seemed as though it had aged fifty years in the short time I was gone. Then again, the only light available to me was the subtle glow coming from the kitchen, so it could have been a trick of the darkness.
My mother reemerged with a glass of milk and a cupcake with light colored frosting on top. “I know it’s late, but one little cupcake won’t hurt, right? Just don’t tell your sister, I’m sure she’d be ever so jealous!”
I took the glass and cupcake from her but kept myself vigilant. Despite the welcoming aura I felt, something was definitely wrong, I just couldn’t put my finger on what. The milk was as good as any other warm glass of milk can be and the cupcake was fine. I’m not much of a pastry guy, so it was just alright to me. The entire time I sat there eating and drinking, my mother stared down at me with wide eyes and an even wider smile.
Once I had finished, she took the glass from me and waltzed off again. The light in the kitchen flickered like the bulb was about to go out and I heard the sound of my mother mumbling, though I didn’t know what about.
As soon as she came back, I felt an overwhelming tiredness that I wasn’t going to be able to fight. She must have noticed because she quickly suggested I get back to bed in that “out-of-character” jovial tone. I complied and shambled down the hall towards my room. She turned the light on and I immediately noticed how filthy the carpet was; it looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years! Dark and deep stains were sunk into the floor and patches of it were missing all over.
“Strange,” I thought, “Had I just not noticed the poor state of our home?”
Nonsense.
My bedroom was even worse for wear. There were holes in the walls that let the outside elements in with little effort. Plants had invaded three of the four corners and my bed occupied the last. That’s when I wondered if I was dreaming; it was the only logical explanation. But as I entered my room, I struck the edge of my bed frame with my foot and stubbed my toe. The pain I felt was DEFINITELY real and that only added to my already mounting confusion.
I fell back onto my bed and held my foot. My mother must have heard the sound because she rushed into my room and seemed deeply concerned. “Oh Henry! What happened?” It looked as though she might shed a tear.
“I just… stubbed my toe - don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
“Mommy can kiss it all better?”
“W - what? No mom, I don’t need you to kiss my foot.” I was beginning to feel extremely uncomfortable.
She sighed and then smiled, “Well, if you say so honey!” Then, she walked back towards my doorway and said something without turning around, “There’s no need to get up for school tomorrow, I’ve pulled you out of that wretched place. Goodnight!” I didn’t get a chance to respond before she slammed my bedroom door and the light from the hallway shut off.
Pulled me out? I didn’t understand, COULDN’T understand ANYTHING that was going on.
I decided to try and sleep all of it off. I thought that maybe things would be back to normal when I woke up.
Several hours later (I’m not exactly sure how many but it was morning) I awoke to a thumping sound. I was still in my bed, but I was freezing cold. It had snowed outside and some of it blew into my room. My blanket was laden with holes to the point where I might as well have not been covered by anything at all and the mattress was torn apart. I hadn’t noticed it the night before because of my exhaustion, but I knew none of this was right.
The thumping continued and it forced me to my feet. I was pretty groggy, I remember having a difficult time keeping my eyes open even while standing. My clothes I had slept in had dirt stains all over them and my toe was swollen.
Needless to say, it was not a good morning.
I walked out of my room and was reminded of the completely disheveled state of the home. Now that it was daytime, I could see much more of its deteriorated form. But, if I’m being honest; it seemed even worse than the night before. I think I would have noticed holes in the floor that led to a pool of stagnant water underneath the hallway.
My attention, however, was drawn away from the damage by that incessant thumping. Picture frames hanging on the walls were bouncing in unison with the sound and it reminded me of several low magnitude earthquakes happening over and over.
I heard my mother say something from what sounded like the kitchen, “Patience dear, it will be ready soon!” I wasn’t sure who she was talking to because there was no way she could have heard me walking down the hall. Not with all that thumping.
I passed through the living room (which looked like a windstorm had wreaked havoc on it) and turned into the kitchen. I was not prepared to see the oddity before me.
My father, a rather large man, was jumping up and down while my mother stirred something in a pot. I tried to get his attention, “Dad, what are you doing?” He kept jumping and didn’t turn around. Mother smiled and kept stirring and Megan (my sister) was nowhere to be seen.
“DAD!” I shouted, desperately trying to get his attention but my mother held her finger to her lips and hushed me.
“Quiet, there’s no need for all that noise.” She said while dad continued to slam his weight into the floor. Little bits of plaster and drywall were breaking off the ceiling and falling into whatever my mom was cooking but she just kept stirring.
“Why is he jumping like that?” I questioned intensely but I received no response. So, I moved to stand between them to get some answers.
My mother suddenly turned to face me and I felt a harsh slap against my cheek. I couldn’t believe she had struck me, but with her recently changing behaviors; it didn’t feel out of character. “Don’t get between your father and his food! You know how he gets!” She said with a smile.
I slowly turned my head to look at him and I was forced to lean against the counter to keep myself from fainting.
His face was just a mouth. He had no eyes, no nose. Just a single drooling hole with wretched teeth chomping and grinding against one another in anticipation. He continued to jump and shake the entire house but my mother only continued to smile, unperturbed by the situation.
“M - mom?! What happened to dad?” I asked through a shockwave of chills.
“Hm?” She questioned as if the creature standing between us was normal, “What do you mean honey?”
My heart pounded out of my chest, “How can you… WHAT?! Do you not see something wrong with him?”
“Wrong with him?” She gazed at him before looking at me with a raised eyebrow, “He looks just like he always does. You’re not going to start telling me you’ve lost your memory, are you?” A sly grin donned her face.
“Mother…” I began without keeping my eyes off my father, “This… thing, is not dad! How can you not see that?”
I then felt another fierce slap against my cheek. A part of her nail connected with the corner of my eye and caused a slight burning sensation, “Don’t say such things about your father! Why don’t you go to your room for right now… at least until you’ve come to your senses.”
“My senses?” I wondered to myself. “How can I be the only one thinking things aren’t normal?” I was too terrified to want to stand anywhere near that thing any longer. Besides, the kitchen was falling apart; it was collapsing at the seams. The constant jumping by that creature that’s supposed to be my father was rattling every screw, rivet and staple throughout the entire house. So, if something were to happen, roof wise, I didn’t want to be caught in the disaster.
I silently slunk away from the kitchen and proceeded to walk back down the hall. The holes in the floor had gotten bigger and even more wallpaper was peeling off. Every photo frame had a warped photo within and the light switches weren’t working. It was like a game, having to dodge the numerous breaks in the floor.
It felt like everything I knew was a lie and that I was somehow responsible for not recognizing the true nature of things. I decided to stop outside my sister’s room and knock on her door. There was no response on the other side, so I knocked again, “Megan? Are you in there?”
“She’s not home right now.” Said my mother who had somehow snuck up on me.
I jumped and reached for my chest. “Oh! Well, where is she?” I was doing my best to remain calm.
My mother had a new look on her face. It was one of neutral condemnation, like she was disappointed but also angry. “She’ll be back later, don’t worry.” She said without a single change in her emotions.
“O - okay…” I said quietly before hugging the wall and shimmying to the end of the hallway. I turned to look at my mother, but I only caught a glimpse of her back disappearing around the corner to the kitchen.
Now there wasn’t any snow in my room. Instead, there were two puddles of dirty water collected in two of the four corners because the house’s foundation was sinking. So much of the wallpaper had faded away and the driftwood-like boards underneath were cold to the touch. I grew increasingly worried about falling through the floor while I slept because everywhere I stepped, I felt the floor sag.
But what else could I do? I figured sleeping was the best way to pass the time and my phone would only bring up an off-brand version of Google called “Loogle,” and it was entirely different to navigate. When I looked for the reliable search engine, I received no results like it didn’t even exist.
So, there I was. Laying on a foul, dirty mattress with a blanket that contained no insulation and my head on two pillows that hardly had any fluff left.
The thumping stopped and for a few tranquil moments, I felt calm. You may be wondering, “How could he see his ‘father’ like that and just be so nonchalant?!” And the answer is, I was in shock. At the time, I couldn’t put my finger on why I was so blissfully unbothered by most of what was happening. My mind had gone through a tumultuous change that prevented it from recognizing the true and absolute terror I was experiencing.
But, some part of me managed to send a kind of “danger” signal throughout my body and the sudden feeling urged me to escape. Since being here, I hadn’t actually ever thought about leaving again, but now it was likely the best and only option.
Without being too loud, I stood up and walked over to my window. There were two in the room, but one was boarded over for some reason. The one that wasn’t covered had a shattered web within the glass but remained intact. I unlocked the latches and began to push with all my might and after having my weight against it - the window lifted.
I thought I’d be greeted by the world outside. I thought that brisk winds would batter my face while the sun shone its night defying light against every inch of my skin.
I thought wrong.
My hands couldn’t push past the window; it was like the entire home was surrounded by a kind of box. There was painted scenery that looked remarkably realistic, so much so that it fooled me. In my confusion, I struck the wall and nearly broke my knuckles; it felt as hard as steel! “Why would you ever want to leave?” My mother’s voice came from behind me and her intrusion sent me to the ceiling in startlement.
I collected myself quickly and pressed my back against the wall, “No mother, I wasn’t trying to leave. I just wanted some fresh air, that’s all…”
“Then why were you so scared when I spoke just now?” She had this scrutinizing glare across her face.
“I don’t think anyone likes being snuck up on.”
“You’re such a good boy, but you’ll never leave. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but if you think I’m an idiot, you’ll be sorely mistaken. I’m not to be trifled with and you WILL see what happens when your bounds are overstepped in this household.” Now she was sounding EXACTLY like the mom I knew.
“O - okay mom, I’m sorry; it won’t happen again…” I didn’t know what else to say, I just wanted to curb her anger.
Her wrath swiftly turned to glee and that unfamiliar smile graced her face once again, “Good! Now, dinner will be ready in a few hours. I expect you at the table!”
“Yes mother.” I said before she turned and left my bedroom. As the door closed a portion of the ceiling crumbled and fell to the floor. My heart was racing and the weight of my predicament really began to set in. The shock was fading.
I was in danger. This was not my home and SHE was NOT my mother.
Megan, my sister. I needed to speak with her. I didn’t care if she was my real sister or not, I just wanted someone I could talk to. I felt like I needed to wait until dark though, so I could subvert my “mother’s” nightly routines. Then again, is the sky outside even real?
I waited and waited. I paced the soft and far flexing floor an indeterminate amount of time until my legs were on the verge of giving out. The light outside changed slowly but eventually, it became dusk, just as always.
I listened for the sounds of my mother coming down the hallway but they never came. I grew far too impatient to wait any longer and decided to make a run for Megan’s room. The moment I moved to open my door, my mother called for me, “Henry! Dinner’s ready!”
I had completely forgotten that she was cooking.
“C - coming!” I answered. Reluctantly, I opened my bedroom door and nearly stepped into a black abyss right under my feet. Only a small trim board remained in the hallway and it ran alongside the wall that connected both mine AND my sister’s bedrooms to the living room.
By this time, I was thinking I had finally lost my mind. As I was shimmying tightly along the board, I thought, “Yup, that’s it - you’ve officially gone crazy!” But all five of my senses couldn’t possibly be fooled by delusion, right? I wasn’t too sure.
When I reached Megan’s door, I tried to open it. No luck, the door was still locked. I thought that maybe she was already at the table and decided to disregard the fact that I hadn’t seen or heard her ONCE since being here. Even then, as I listened down the hall, I couldn’t hear her voice.
I continued down the hall and managed to reach the living room without falling to my death. As I rounded the corner to the kitchen and the dining room, I was once again taken aback by the terrifying creature mom claimed to be my dad. It was sitting at the table with its entire head buried into a pot of who-knows-what, drinking it all up.
There was an empty seat where Megan would normally sit and another that was presumably for me. The chairs were rickety and chipped - tarnished and worn. The chandelier that hung above the table was close to falling and I felt unsafe about eating under it. Although, the entire home seemed to be becoming one with nature because grass was growing up through the floorboards and a frog sat on the tablecloth.
Mother turned to me as I stood there like a statue and glared, “Have a seat Henry, else it’ll get cold.” She pointed to a separate bowl with a deep red liquid.
I swallowed and sat down, the soup or whatever it was, looked grotesque - completely inedible. I took a spoon and mixed it around. To be honest, I didn’t have an appetite. I turned to my mother while avoiding staring at “dad” and asked, “Where’s Megan?”
She smiled a red-toothed smile and said, “Oh Henry, she’s right here with us!”
“What?” I looked around the table and the room, “I don’t see her?” The sounds of the creature opposite of me were obnoxiously loud.
My mother took a sip off her bowl and sucked her teeth, “Well, let’s just say she’s more… within us than with us these days.”
Her words were vague. I stirred the liquid in the bowl again. I watched the contents swirl around until my spoon clinked against something. I attempted to scoop it up and as my spoon breached the surface, I flew out of my seat with fear.
I saw a glimpse of the earring Megan always wore.
My mother began to laugh maniacally like some bog hag and the discovery made me hurl what contents was left in my stomach onto the floor.
I ran back to Megan’s room while mother continued to cackle. I hadn’t noticed before, but the door to her room was significantly deteriorated which would make it exceedingly easy to break down. When I reached her door, I drove my shoulder into it. First try was a failure, but the second, with a little extra muscle, sent me through her door and into her room.
And death; it smelled of metal and rot. I covered my nose while feeling for the light switch.
I wish I had never found it.
When the light came on; it illuminated a scene of absolute horror. Megan, my sister, had been ripped apart. Her blood painted the entire room from floor to ceiling and her other body parts were strewn about. If I had a heart problem, I think I may have died of fright right then and there but instead, I rushed out of the room and straight to mine.
Without thinking, I pushed my bed against the door and curled up into a ball on the floor.
And, here I am. I don’t know if this site works the same as it does in… my world, but I hope it does. If not for my own salvation, then for the sake of enlightenment. I’m still in this room, but I can hear thumping from down the hall and that can only mean dad’s hungry again.
You know, maybe it wasn’t so bad at home.
My real home.