I woke up in a cold sweat. I realized that my husband is not beside me in our bed. I come to and realize that my husband must be sleepwalking. The weirdest thing is my husband never slams our bedroom door when he would sleepwalk in the past. I put on my shoes and walk out the bedroom door. I see my husband walking out the front door. I thought to myself, “I wonder where my husband goes when he engages in sleepwalking.” I don’t know, but I am going to find out. So, I decided to follow my husband. He’s walking on foot to his destination, so I decided to take the same action since I’m following him. I noticed that my husband is wearing a different attire from his sleep attire. He is wearing a trench coat, platform shoes like they wore in the ’70s, and a wig. What is he wearing? I asked myself. I continue to follow my husband on foot, and we arrived at the destination. We stopped on 20th and Main, which is not a good part of town. It’s filled with questionable character people this- isn’t a good place for us to be roaming around at nighttime. I watched from afar. My husband is on the corner of 20th and Main. I’m still trying to figure out what’s going on?. My husband. Proceeded to take off his trench coat soon- I discover what my husband does when he sleepwalks. I finally get to see it in live time. I see my husband’s frontal portion of his body for the first time tonight. I notice he is sporting a women’s wig and women’s clothing. I conclude that my husband is a drag queen prostitute when he sleepwalks. I’m in complete and utter shock this -sight of him makes me want to help my husband through his sleepwalker chronic disorder. I am running towards my husband before I could reach him. My husband gets in the car with a stranger. I hopped in a taxi and tell, the taxi driver to “Follow the car that my husband is in.” We are keeping up with the vehicle that has my husband in, not losing sight of the vehicle for a moment. We all arrive at the hotel. I ended up getting held up with the taxi driver. As I’m wrapping things up with the taxi driver, my husband and the stranger are already in their hotel room. I finished paying the taxi driver for the ride. I rushed up the stairs of the hotel. I noticed things have, escalated quickly between my husband and the stranger as I watched through the hotel window. There was a crack in between the curtains, so I was able to see in the room. I am peeping through the window. I saw my husband tied up, being tortured and taunted. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing with my own eyes. I can’t imagine the pain and anguish my husband must be feeling at this moment. I came to my senses and realized that my husband is still in his sleepwalker daze, so he’s not feeling any pain at the moment but, once he wakes up, he will. So, I begin to hatch a plan in my head to rescue my husband and attempt to wake him up. I sneak into the housekeeping dressing room to find one of their uniforms to put on. I found the one that I was looking for, which- is the housekeeping uniform I can wear to rescue my husband. As I get dressed, I couldn’t help but think, how did we get here? To this place with these circumstances. I’m done- with putting on the housekeeping disguise. I’m ready to rescue my husband as I make my way to the room where my husband is, being held captive. I make sure to grab a housekeeping cart to complete my disguise, to make it even more believable. I’m slowly approaching the hotel room because I am nervous and scared. I get a grip on myself because I know what I must do. I have to build the courage up to stand up and fight against the odds. Finally, I have reached the door of the hotel room I, read room number 32. I can already envision myself saving my husband and us getting out of here. Going home to our cozy house. I snap myself back into reality and muster up the confidence to knock on the hotel room door. Knock, Knock! The sound echoes through the hall of the hotel.
The stranger says, “Who is it?”
I replied, “Housekeeping.”
The stranger cracked the door open, so I can barely see the events taking place in the room. On instinct and impulse, I thrust the housekeeping cart straight into the door before the stranger had a chance to reply or close the door in my face. The stranger falls back on the bed to bounce off the bed onto the floor. I look at my husband and, I can tell he has no idea what’s going on. I begin to untie my husband’s hands. While completing this task, my husband’s pupils were dilated. That’s how his eyes look when he is sleepwalking. I finished untying my husband before I could lift him. There was a POW! I fell on the floor of the hotel room I am shot. I hear the stranger fleeing the scene out of fear of getting caught. The tragedy of me getting shot, my husband snaps out of his sleepwalker mode and immediately aids me with cuddling, crying, kisses, and apologies. I go unconscious. Beep, Beep! My alarm goes off on my watch. I tell my support group, thank you for allowing me to share my story. My husband and I have an appointment with the sleep therapist.
The End
Paulette Carter is a student at Full Sail University, studying Creative Writing to further her career as an inspiring writer.
