Sandwich of Ruin!

My Brother Used To Sleepwalk, And It Scared The Shit Out Of Me

In all the memories of my childhood, of all the words spoken to me during my life, nothing struck more terror in my little childhood heart then when my older brother, in the inky blackness of the basement in which we were sleeping, woke me up in the middle of the night and stated, quite gravely, "Ryan, don't get scared, but someone was just killed down here."

He didn't say who was killed, or who did the killing, or if the killer was still down in the basement with us, or anything useful like that. He just told me not to be scared and that someone had just been killed somewhere in the basement and, naturally, there was no way I could have heard those two things together and not get crap-in-my-pants scared.

You see, my brother occasionally experienced a phenomenon known as night terrors, which is basically a condition in which the sufferer walks and talks in their sleep while enduring nightmares that would make Freddy Krueger freak out. In the "killer in the basement" episode, my brother not only thought someone had been killed, but he also believed were were trapped in some sort of box or something.

Now, my parents' basement has been scientifically proven to be the darkest place in the universe. Once the lights go out, it basically becomes a sensory deprivation chamber. For some reason, my brother and I thought it was fun to sleep in the basement once in awhile. The problem was, once my brother decided to up and have a night terror, and thoroughly convinced me of a murder conspiracy right in our own basement, the pitch blackness of the cavern certainly didn't help the situation any.

My primary goal was to try to find the light switch. As much as I dreaded seeing a murder victim sprawled out on the carpet, to say nothing of the possible murderer lurking just behind me, I desperately, dreadfully, horribly wanted to find that light switch. Unfortunately, finding the light switch was not the main goal of my night-terror-stricken brother. Rather, he set about basically destroying the basement, trying to climb, yes, CLIMB, out of the box in which he percieved himself to be. He had moved furniture all around and was busy smashing his way through ceiling tiles, a sound that convinced me the murderer was no doubt on a rampage.

I pawed my way along the wall, practically blubbering in fear, feeling for the familiar smooth plastic light switch cover. My brother, ever the helpful soul, started wailing and screaming. I thought my head was going to explode from pure unadulterated terror. Why didn't the murderer finish me off and put an end to this miserable ordeal?!

Finally, FINALLY, I found the light switch, and with a terrified mashing of my hand on switch, the basement become illuminated in wonderful, wonderful flourescent lighting.

There was no dead body. There was no lurking murderer. There was just my brother with a wild look in eyes, and a basement torn asunder. I don't think my brother saw me, and I don't think he saw the light. He was still trapped in his box with a body and a murderer, and he seemed quite intent on continuing his quest to destroy ceiling tiles. It was, quite frankly, more than I was willing to deal with.

I ran upstairs faster than I thought was humanly possible, crashing into my parents' bedroom and awaking them with a blubbering torrent of words that no doubt had them thinking their young child had accidently discovered the liquor cabinet.

When they finally realized what was going on, my father bolted downstairs in nothing but his tighty whities, while my mother stayed behind to calm me down so my heart was thumping at least a little less fast than a hummingbird's.

True to night terror form, my brother had no recollection of the incident after my father enticed him back to the waking world.

For my part, I'm still somewhat scared of that fucking basement. Thankfully, I have Nicole Scherzinger thoughts to comfort me. I wish Nicole Scherzinger was nude. A nude Nicole Scherzinger would be awesome.

Posted by Ryan at January 27, 2004 04:31 PM