Around one in the morning, Jess started grunting and flailing around in bed. After a few minutes, she sat up, whipped the comforter off and attempted to crawl over my broken leg, which was elevated on a pile of pillows. Jess talks in her sleep often, but this was the first time I’d experienced her sleepwalking in the nearly six years we’ve been together.

Me: “Jesus Christ, what are you doing? Go around my leg.”

Jess: “I have to…I have to…I have to…”

Me: “You have to what? Can I help you with something?” I clicked my reading light on.

Jess: “I have to slice.”

Me: “You have to what?!”

Jess: “I have to slice.”

Hoping she was talking about the soda or a bad golf swing and not the result of a knife sinking into husband meat, I watched as she stumbled out of bed, walked out of the bedroom, flicked the light on in the guest bedroom and stood in the doorway for a good ten seconds, staring into some strange world separated from ours by the veil of sleep.

Me: “Do you need something in there, babe?”

At this, she turned around and began walking down the stairs to the first floor.

Me: “Turn on the light so you don’t trip over the cat”. Why I was trying to communicate with a sleepwalker is beyond me.

Jess: “Noooooooooooooooooooooo.”

I stayed up and listened to Jess clank and bonk her way around downstairs, eventually winding her way into the bathroom and using it. She trudged back upstairs and, instead of sliding back under the covers and going to bed like a human being, she crawled on top of her pillows and curled up like a Siberian sled dog.”

Me: “You can’t go to bed like that, babe.”

Jess: “Noooooooooooooooooooooo.”

I pulled the sheets away and began the work of pulling her resisting legs back onto the mattress.

Me: “Jess, just let me tuck your legs in here. If I let you fall asleep like this, you’re going to end up kicking me in the face.”

Jess: “But…I want…I don’t even…what the…”

I managed to force her legs into bed, throw the comforter back over her and make sure her head was resting comfortably on a pillow. By the time I was able to roll over and click the reading light back off, she was already snoring again, dreaming about slice.

Written by Mike