Podcast

My little brother is a sleepwalker –I do not remember when it started, but I had the pleasure of witnessing his nightly adventures, seen as we shared a bedroom… until the age of 12. On one particular night, however, he startled me more than most.

Let’s start from the beginning –after my brother’s first sleepwalking incident: My parents assured us two children that there was nothing to worry about. My mom then pulled me aside and told me that if it happens again, I should remain calm, never try and wake him up, and quickly get my parents when he starts to sleepwalk –it did not seem to me like it was something to not be worried about –but I tried following my parents instructions as best as I could.

Being a generally light sleeper was a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because my parents knew I would wake up once my brother did –since we shared a bunked bed. Yet a curse, because I would get to hear the bottom bunk creek and a skinny dark figure slowly get up and start heading towards the semi-closed bedroom door. He would sometimes linger by the doorway and I would see the eerie blank stare in his eyes. “Remaining calm” was the hardest thing to do. He freaked me out.

Some nights, 10-year old me was curious to see what he would do next, so I would let him make his way outside our bedroom, onto the hardwood floors, to the foyer and head towards the living room area. He would reach for the handle, open the squeaky door, and start shuffling to the living room, walking around mindlessly –I would then go wake up my parents.

His late night adventures varied throughout the years and some were more daring than others. Sometimes he would pace around each room in the house, other times he would climb into the bathtub with his pillow and blanket. One night, he changed out of his pajamas into our school uniform, grabbed his backpack and made his way through the dinning room. Some nights I did sleep soundly and did not hear him sleepwalk, but my parents woke up once they heard him rummaging through the house keys. My mom stumbled her way to the foyer, found him fully dressed, ready for school, trying to jam the wrong key into the door. At the time I found it funny – my parent’s clearly did not. Another night occurred where I slept heavier than normally, and did not hear the creek of the bottom bunk as my brother rose from his sleep. A loud sound by my head did wake me up. I rolled around to my side and open my eyes –there was brother with both hands on the top bunk railing – staring through me between the metal bars. I screamed. He then entered a half-awake frantic phase where he crashed his way through our bedroom– bumping into the desk, then into the bed’s ladder, then thudded towards a wall, then clanked back into the bed, then back towards the wall closest to the door –I was just as panicked as he was and decided to shove him outside of our bedroom – safely into my mothers arms. We can agree, I did not remain calm.