MORNING BREATH
I'd been waking up lately with drool all over my pillow.
Much more than normal.
It got so bad that I started to worry that I had a tumor or at least some kind of sinus problem. I wanted to ask my wife what she might think was going on but we already hadn't had sex yet that month so I decided I didn't want to do or say anything to jeopardize any potential “situation” that might arise. So finally I decided to stay up and see exactly what I was doing in my sleep for myself.
The last time I remember looking at the clock it was about two in the morning. The next thing I knew I woke up to my wife spitting into my mouth. I was so shocked that I didn't move or say anything. Never before had I been in this sort of situation so, not knowing how to react, I simply did not. She wasn't exactly spitting, she was actually sitting over me and letting a thick strand of saliva flow into my mouth. After the initial shock wore off I rolled over, still pretending to be asleep. I wanted to ask her what the fuck she was doing but at that point I didn't know how dangerous the person I shared a bed with was. I was scared just to turn away from this strange attack but she silently un-straddled me and went back to her side of the bed. After I was sure that she was asleep I got up and brushed my teeth. Twice.
She has to work before I do so we didn't see each other until the next evening. I didn't bring up what happened the night before. Like I said, we hadn't had sex all month and I didn't want to get into a fight. I figured if she wanted to bring it up I'd let her but I wasn't going to rock the boat. But she didn't say anything and seemed fine so as we were getting settled down for the night I decided to try put the moves on her.
“Oh, honey,” she said. “I'm just so tired. I'm ready to pass out.”
I bet she was. She always was the first one to fall asleep. Now I knew why; she was resting up to spit in my mouth in the middle of the night. But I didn't say anything. Instead I tried rubbing her back, hoping to change her mind. But my plan backfired because within five minutes she was fast asleep. After having not slept the night before I was wiped out but I needed to know what was going on. It was horrifying having to go to sleep not knowing what was being done to me while I was unconscious. So I set up our video camera on my book shelf in a way that she was unlikely to notice it the next morning and allowed myself to fall into a disturbed sleep.
The next morning I got up and right away checked the video even before I went to the bathroom. And what I discovered was truly terrible. Around three she slowly sat up and mechanically got on top of me again. On the video you could hear me snoring; I couldn't believe I didn't wake up but I guess I was exhausted. I figured I was going to watch her spit in my mouth again and have the physical evidence that it wasn't just a dream I had the night before. But instead she began picking her nose slowly and methodically and flicking the boogers into my mouth. Over and over again she would deposit one into my mouth and return to her nose to get another one. The horror I felt bordered on an existential meltdown. Suddenly I could taste the dried snot in my mouth and throat and began to gag. As I threw up I was sure I could taste the boogers I had involuntarily swallowed in the night and that just made me vomit even harder.
That day at work I could focus on nothing else. I spent every moment when my supervisor wasn't watching to try to some research about what I was going through. But this situation was so odd that I didn't know what to Google. So I just wandered the internet aimlessly and eventually began to find hints that she was somehow connected to the JFK assassination. This was getting out of control. I couldn't go on like this; I wasn't thinking clearly in my exhaustion.
So I did what any man would do. I got myself a mannequin. Don't ask how; I've got a guy. The plan was to catch her in the act and confront her from a safe distance. I mean, what was her problem? Why couldn't she just come out and tell me what her problem was? How immature. I wouldn't act like that.
That night I didn't even try to hit on her. In the back of my mind I had hoped that would work to my advantage and make her want what she couldn't have. She didn't; instead she said she wanted me to watch P.S. I Love You with her. This, perhaps, was almost more shocking than anything else. This woman obviously had it out for me. But what kind of sociopath would look me dead in the eye and expect me to watch a chick flick with her?
“Didn't you just watch that last week?”
She menacingly fluffed up the pillows on our bed to make herself more comfortable. “Yeah, but you wouldn't watch it with me. I thought maybe we could spend some time together.”
I didn't know what she was trying to pull but I certainly wasn't going to fall for it. “Uh, no, sorry. I've got some stuff to do.”
“Oh, okay.” She looked like she wanted to say something else but didn't. Instead she stared straight ahead at the FBI warning on the screen as if I had already left the room. So I left and went into the kitchen and made myself a pot of coffee into which I mixed a handful of caffeine pills; a sort of un-
roofie to make sure I would be on my guard later that night.
About halfway through the movie she fell asleep. So I began to set up the room to execute my plan. I slipped the dummy into my spot in the bed and pulled the comfort over my fake self. In her sleep, she rolled over and threw her arm over it and couldn't tell the difference. That kind of hurt my feelings but I needed to stay focused on what was important. So I went to the other side of the room and sat in the chair. I put on a pair of night vision goggles I had also bought that day and in my hand I gripped the can of pepper spray that I got out of her purse.
I was too wired to sleep but I was so tired that my mind began to dream despite my being awake. After three days without a good nights rest my mind had definitely begun to play tricks on me. And at three, like clockwork, she once again sat up like a woman possessed. I sat up straight in our chair and gripped the pepper spray, ready for action. This time instead of straddling me she began punching the dummy which she thought was me over and over again in the groin. Once again I was shocked into inaction and simply sat there stupefied. After about five minutes of punching me in the balls she got up and walked out into the hallway.
Enough was enough. I jumped up and confronted her there.
“I got you! What the hell do you think you're doing?”
But she didn't respond. Like a robot she continued down the hall and into the kitchen. It was then that I noticed that she didn't look right. Her eyes were open but they were somehow vacant. Even though I was right beside her she didn't seem to notice me. I would have thought she would've reacted to the fact that I had tricked her with my mannequin or that I had my weapon aimed at her. But she didn't; instead she opened the fridge and took a drink from a jar of pickles.
“Honey? Are you sleepwalking?”
She didn't respond but instead got back into bed and once again spooned with the dummy. I stayed up the rest of the night disposing of all the evidence. I cut up the dummy and buried in the trash can under a pile of garbage.
The next evening I was so tired and confused. But, in one last attempt at self preservation, I offered to finally watch that movie with her. She seemed very excited at my idea since she had fallen asleep the night before and missed it. So I sat with her and pretended to enjoy it. And ultimately my story had a happy ending.