You can read my first post here: Part One
I didn’t get a ton of advice on my last post here, but stranger things are happening that I still need help with. I’m hoping that you all understand what is going on better than I do.
I did receive help from one user on my last post who suggested that I place pots and pans by the doorway to wake me up before I get outside. That night, I took her suggestion and placed pots across the threshold of my home. I even filled them up with water for good measure. That way, even if I managed to sleep through the knocking of the pots, the water had to wake me up out of my trance. In the morning when I woke up, I was safe in bed. I breathed a sigh of relief and checked myself over for evidence of any strange occurrences. My feet were still healing a bit from my escapade the day before, but they seemed otherwise unmarred. I padded downstairs to check the pots and there they were, undisturbed and still full of water. There was no furniture or pantry items in strange places. It felt great to know that I got a simple night of sleep. I cannot tell you how unsettling it was to wake up in an unfamiliar spot, with the wind biting into your thin pajamas and scrapes all along your feet. Thank god I don’t sleep naked. If placing pots by the door is what I have to do, so be it.
I got a couple decent nights of sleep this way, but I had some unusual dreams. In them, I was in the forest that I had woken up in, but I couldn’t move or speak. I was frozen in place. Sleepwalking is one thing, dreams are another though. Odd dreams don’t bother me much. Last night was different though. I closely placed the pots and pans by the doorway again and refilled them with water from the creaky tap. I walked up the old wooden stairs and listened to them groan under my weight. I thought about how much I loved this house. Even the floorboards make me feel at home. It just feels like… the place I belong. The place I’ve always belonged.
Once I made it into the small, teal tiled bathroom, I pulled my toothpaste out of the medicine cabinet. I hummed a bit as I brushed my teeth, inspecting my reflection in the mirror. I was looking pretty good, to be honest, strange sleeping patterns aside. I spit the toothpaste out into the sink and as I lifted my head back up, I was jolted by what I saw in the mirror. It was my face, but different somehow. The eyes were colder, darker, more distant. My mouth was tightened into a straight line. My heart beat in my chest like a bird trapped in a cage, my eyes wide open. But when I blinked, the image shifted back to my regular reflection. I looked paler than I had a moment ago, all of the peace having fled my face, but at least I knew it was my face looking back at me this time. I brought my face closer to the mirror, prodding my flesh with my fingers. Slowly, I brought a hand up to the surface of the mirror. My hand trembled, but when I touched the mirror, it was just a regular mirror. My breath heaved out of my body and relief washed over me. It was just my imagination. I guess I hadn’t really been sleeping enough.
I walked cautiously to bed, avoiding the creaky spots on the wood floor this time. It was silly, but I was still frightened by what I thought I saw. I didn’t want to make too much noise in my house. Carefully, I shut my bedroom door and eased myself into bed, draping an arm over my eyes. It took me quite some time to get to sleep and when I did sleep, I was plagued by nightmares with grotesque and frightening images. I saw my mother, buried alive, clawing her way through the dirt. I saw a figure in the house, almost like a mannequin who turned slowly to face me. The flesh on its face was smooth and formless. In my dream, I stood frozen in place just like before. Each time I blinked, the figure seemed to teleport a few feet closer to me. It’s eyeless face somehow watching me, appraising me. When the figure stood inches from my face, I screamed.
The first thing I noticed was the coppery taste in my mouth. Blood. I spat and opened my eyes. It was dawn and I was in the forest. Barefoot, cold, scared. Again. I frantically ran through the brush, the branches of the trees lashing my face, but I couldn’t figure out how to get back. I ran like that, the breath moving out of my lungs in short panicked bursts. I’m not sure how long I was out there, asleep or conscious. It felt like hours before I saw the comforting silhouette of my house. I felt relief, but that feeling quickly turned to lead in my gut when I once again spied the shadow in my bedroom window. Watching. Waiting.
Of course when I got into the house, I stumbled over the pots and pans in the doorway and spilled water all over the floor. Anyone that might have been in the house had to have heard that ruckus and ran off, because I didn’t find anyone when I went through the place again. I did find a window on the first floor open, the breeze lazily lifting the curtains. I’m assuming that’s how I got out of the house? Although climbing through windows seems a little intense, even for me. Honestly, I am just completely freaked out. Should I see a doctor? Do any of you have any sleepwalking experiences even remotely like this? I can’t imagine that you do, but I would take help from anywhere at this point.