The Monster In My Bed by Wendy Cartwright

Here is a short story by Wendy Cartwright!

The Monster In My Bed

By Wendy Cartwright

This has been the happiest day of my life. I asked my girlfriend to move in. We’ve been together for a year. It was time.

We packed up her stuff and shoved it all in the back of the Jeep. Hannah’s apartment was just across town. When we got back, she started getting boxes out of the vehicle and sitting them on the sidewalk so I could take them up the steps and into the house. One box, marked “books”, was particularly heavy and I stumbled on the first step. She was close and grabbed my ass giving me the boost I needed to stay upright. We laughed, and then I stole a kiss.

We were done getting her things inside in no time. She unpacked some of the boxes.

“What kind of food sounds good?” I asked, knowing she wouldn’t make a decision. Sometimes, it’s fun to play the games that are so typical among couples.

“I don’t know. What do you want?” she replied. I chuckled to myself.

“I ordered pastrami sandwiches a half hour ago from that little place that you like on Victory Boulevard. I just got a message that it’s ready to pick up.”

She smiled and said, “you know me so well.”

On the drive across town I was somewhere else. I was caught in the thought that life was perfect. How had I managed to find a wonderful woman who loves me more than I love myself? Someone who understands me. We love the same music and food and we have so much fun together. It seems too good to be true.

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“Man that sandwich was good!” Hannah said, licking her lips. She had a smear of mayonnaise just above the right corner of her lip. I reached over and wiped it off with my finger.

“Damn, if your hair was a little longer and grey you’d be my mother!”

“Your mom is a wonderful person. I hope I’m as good a woman as she is someday. Not all mothers are fit for parenthood. Besides, I can’t let you walk around looking like a dork. Then you’d be mad!” I laughed and poked her in the ribs. She squealed and said, “you’re insufferable!”

I scooted closer to her and kissed the spot where the mayonnaise had been. We both jumped up from the couch and started gathering up the wrappers and trash from our dinner. It was getting late and we were both wore out from moving boxes.

Hannah crossed the living room and grabbed a black garbage bag. “This is my Dior de- luxe luggage,” she said while twirling her hand to highlight the bright yellow plastic drawstring like some twig-thin model from a gameshow.

“I can’t stand you!” I was laughing so hard that I could hardly speak. She started laughing too.

She ripped open the side of the bag and two pillows bulged out. This was really happening. Tonight would be the first night of many that we would share the bed without Hannah needing to leave to go back to her apartment. Her lease was up and that apartment had been rented out to someone else who would be moving in in a few days. There was no going back. This is our home now.

She carried her pillows into the bedroom and I followed. Pulling down the comforter, she put them on her side of the queen bed. Hannah had slept over a million times before and always slept on the left side. I walked over and took her in my arms. “I love you,” I said. “You’re the girl of my dreams,” she replied. She always said that.

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“Damn!”

“What’s wrong?” Hannah said, half asleep.

I looked at the clock. 5:45 a.m. I had a horrible pain in my left side. It almost took my breath away.

“I must have slept wrong,” I told her as I struggled to roll to my right. I made it to the edge of the bed and to my feet. I walked slowly to the bathroom holding my side. When I turned on the light I pulled up my shirt to investigate. There was a huge purple bruise with specks of red in the middle. It looked like I’d been hit with a line drive at close range.

A few minutes later, Hannah came into the bathroom and looked at my side. “Oh God! What happened?”

“I don’t know. I woke up in horrible pain and found this bruise. I just don’t know.”

“Come in and sit on the couch. I’ll get you some ice and ibuprofen.” She took me by the hand and led me through the door and into the living room.

Sitting down was excruciating. It felt like my ribs were splintered and the shards were imbedded in my lungs. Every movement and every breath was like being stabbed with a thousand tenpenny nails. I could barely stand it.

Hannah sat beside me with a zipper bag filled with ice that was wrapped in a towel. “Here, take these.” She held out four ibuprofen and a glass of water. I gulped it down. That was a mistake. Just the force of swallowing made me cry out.

“Easy.” She looked at me with so much concern. I really was lucky to have her here with me. I don’t know what I would have done after waking up like this if I’d been alone.

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

@@@@@

It’s been almost a week and I’m surprised how much better my side feels. Most of the time it doesn’t hurt to breathe. Sometimes, if I move this way or that, I get a stabbing pain. I still don’t know what happened.

Hannah and I are going to our favorite Italian place for dinner to celebrate her moving in. Finally! I had the date planned for the evening following the big day, but it obviously had to be put on hold.

“I love this place,” I said as we walk through the front door. It’s a fun little restaurant with pictures of mobsters on the walls and Frank Sinatra songs flowing through the air. I can imagine some shady conversations going on in the back rooms.

“I’m starving!” Hannah had been working all day. She’s a website designer and works remotely, but had been so focused on a large, new client that she’d skipped lunch.

“Get whatever your heart desires. You’ve taken such good care of me, nursing me back to health. You deserve it.”

“You’re the girl of my dreams.”

I ordered the ziti and she decided on stuffed shells. We shared a large order of cheesy garlic bread. We ate until we couldn’t have held another bite unless we’d put it in our pockets. We were quiet on the way home, both victims of food comas.

I was optimistic that I might get some restful sleep now that my pain had mostly subsided. I changed into my favorite sleep shirt as soon as we got home and laid down. Hannah put on her tank top and boxers and laid down beside me. I was so tired that I fell asleep almost immediately.

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A familiar feeling wakes me up. I look at the clock but can barely see it. I think it’s around 5:00 a.m. The pain is immense, but this time it’s in my face. I bring my hand up and touch my cheek. It feels wet.

I jump out of bed and my side catches, but it’s nothing compared to the splitting headache. Flipping on the light makes my head hurt so bad I see stars. Struggling to focus, I realize why my vision is so blurry. My left eye is swollen shut. My cheek on that side is split and blood is trickling down my jawline. What is going on? What could be causing these injuries and how in the world could I sleep through them?

I try to hold back the tears but can’t. It hurts so bad. Crying makes it worse and I start to sob. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t. I hear Hannah start to stir. Before I know it, she is standing beside me looking at the mess that is my face. “Good God,” she says with a quiet gasp. I sit on the toilet and put my face in my hands. That’s a mistake. I raise my head and look at her through the tears in my one good eye.

“Get in the car,” she orders me.

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On the way home from the Emergency Room, I’m grateful for the pain meds the doctor ordered. What felt like a fault line in my skull this morning was now a tolerable aftershock. It still hurt like hell, but I was convinced I’d live. I wasn’t sure I wanted to when I woke up at the literal crack of dawn.

“Hannah to the rescue again,” I say, looking at her with the most loving expression I can muster. What would I do if I had been alone?

“I’m just glad I was there. I love taking care of you. I’m so happy that you asked me to move in. I only want to be by your side.”

“We have to figure out what’s going on. What the hell is happening to me while I’m asleep. It’s like something is trying to kill me. At least to cripple me.”

“We’ll figure it out. There has to be a logical explanation. But you need to rest.”

Hannah’s voice trailed off as she pulled up to the curb. She got out of the car and came around to open my door. As we walked into the house I felt so lucky to have her.

@@@@@

While I took a nap courtesy of the pain medicine, Hannah worked. At one point I thought I heard her leave the house, but when I woke up she was sitting at her desk.

“Good morning,” I said, trying to sound cheerful.

“It’s afternoon,” she chuckled. “You poor thing. Come over and sit on the couch with me.” Hannah went to the freezer and got a bag of ice she had made while I was sleeping. When we sat down, she pulled me close to her as gently as possible and held the ice on my face.

“You’re the best nurse I’ve ever had.”

“You know I love taking care of you. You’re the girl of my dreams,” Hannah said sweetly. “How was your nap?”

“Four hours of sleep courtesy of big Pharma.”

“At least you got some rest.”

“I guess,” was all I could say.

“Let’s change the subject. Did you turn on my computer last night before you went to bed? It was powered up and on standby when I started to work earlier. I always turn it off in the evening after I’m done working. And some files were open that I haven’t looked at in a long time. I don’t have anything secret on there, but it just seemed weird.”

“No. I haven’t touched your computer. So weird. I’m getting assaulted in my sleep and now, this. What is going on?”

@@@@@@

It’s taken two weeks to recover from this last nighttime injury, but today my face and head hurt very little. My eye is fully open and the gash in my cheek has all but healed. I’m afraid to be optimistic. Last time I was mostly recovered another “attack” happened. I just hope it was the last.

I haven’t told Hannah, but yesterday, while she was obsessing over a website she’s developing, I drove to the tech store and picked up a spy cam. I’m going to get to the bottom of this madness.

“Honey,” Hannah said, and I flinched. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” She looked at me with pity. “I’ve planned a date night. We won’t be out late. I just wanted to do something for you because you’ve been through so much.”

“Thank you. I could really use it.”

We got in her car and headed down the street. We hadn’t been traveling very long and she pulled into the park where we had our first date. Hannah opened the trunk and pulled out a blanket. We sat under a tree watching the birds fly by. There were kids running and playing. This is the way it’s supposed to be.

After a while, Hannah stood up and took my hand. I stood and she folded up the blanket. We walked back to the car and she put it back in the trunk. After we got in, she said, “One more surprise.”

She started the car and pulled onto the road. I had no idea where she was taking me. She abruptly turned the car to the right.

“Tacos!” She almost squealed.

“My favorite. I love you.”

“You’re the girl of my dreams.” Hannah said.

@@@@@

We got home early just like Hannah promised. I was already so tired. I was worried about what might happen after I went to sleep, but I couldn’t stay up all night every night. I slipped into my nightshirt and she put on her tank top and boxers. I had turned on the spy cam while Hannah was in the bathroom. ‘Here goes nothing’ I thought to myself and fell asleep almost immediately.

@@@@@

“FUUUUUUCK!”

I jolted awake and sat straight up in bed. I grabbed my right hand with my left and screamed even louder. I could feel that something was very wrong and I looked down. The tip of my ring finger was somehow pointing toward my elbow.

I hadn’t noticed, but Hannah was already sitting up too. Staring at my mutilated hand in horror, she said, “Get in the car!”

@@@@@

“A busted face and a broken finger like I’ve never seen within the span of two weeks are quite interesting injuries. And, you say that they happened while you were asleep?” the ER doctor asked with some degree of disbelief.

“Yes, doctor, in my sleep,” I said, not liking his tone.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” he said

“It’s baffling us, too,” Hannah offered. “I’m the clumsiest person on the planet. I’ve fallen down stairs, had two car wrecks, and generally can’t stay upright, but I’ve never had a broken bone. I barely even bruise. And she’s waking up with these intense mysterious injuries every other week.”

“Usually things like this appear when there is a domestic violence situation. Do you feel safe at home?” the doc questioned.

“Oh, come on!” I was starting to get really angry.

“I have to set the finger and splint it. The nurse will be in shortly to numb your hand and give you something that will relax you. Still, this won’t be pleasant.”

“Doc, life is getting more unpleasant every day.”

@@@@@

It’s the day after getting my finger aimed back in the direction and I feel like shit. I begged Hannah to run to the store to get me some ice cream. I have to hurry and watch the spy cam footage. I have to find out what is going on.

I open the app on my phone. The camera is focused directly on my side of the bed. Whatever is happening to me will be on this video.

I look close and see that I fell asleep with my right arm hanging off of the side of the bed. I started the video at midnight. Watching and watching, I see nothing. I fast-forward through the footage, trying to hurry because I know Hannah will be back from the store at any time. I see nothing on the video until I wake up screaming and grab my hand. I didn’t roll over or move all night.

@@@@@

“Hey!” Hannah said when she came in the house. “I’ve got your ice cream.”

“Thanks,” I said, “but my hand is really hurting again and I think I’m just going to go to bed.”

“Aww. Okay, you get some rest and I’m going to get back to work. If you need anything just yell.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m sorry,” Hannah said. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

@@@@@

Another two weeks to heal without incident and I’m getting nervous. Will it be tonight that I get beat? Tomorrow night? Was last time the last time?

I changed the angle on the spy cam and zoomed the frame out wider so that the whole bedroom would be shown in the footage. I’m not taking any more chances.

“Honey,” Hannah said, “are you okay?”

“I guess,” I half yelled.

“I know you must be worried about going to sleep. I wish I knew what was going on.”

“I do to,” I said through grit teeth.

“Just remember, you’re the girl of my dreams,” she said as we both fell asleep.

@@@@@

This time, when I looked at the clock, it read 5:17 a.m. The pain was unbearable. It was in my left thigh. The bed was so wet I thought I’d peed in my sleep. I swung my right leg over the edge and used my left arm to push my other leg over. I turned on the lamp that was on my bedside table. I didn’t care if I woke Hannah up. I had to see the damage.

The bed was covered in blood and my leg had been sliced open.

“WAKE UP!” I screamed. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME?”

Hannah jumped up wide awake. “What are you talking about? What happened?”

“It’s all on video! We’ll just see what crazy shit you’re doing to me in my sleep.”

“Calm down. We have to get you cleaned and bandaged up,” Hannah pleaded.

“No bitch! I have to know now!” I unplugged my phone from the charger and it lit up. I opened the app that had the video from the spy cam and pressed play.

We sat on the bed looking at my phone. There was nothing interesting to see until the timer said 4:30 a.m.

We watched as the video showed me getting out of bed. I exit the room while Hannah sleeps soundly on the left side of the queen size mattress. When I get back inside the frame I’m holding something. I can’t really see what it is. I get back in bed. Rolling toward Hannah I raise the object in the air. It’s a knife!

We sit in stunned silence as we witness me bring the blade down toward Hannah’s chest. A bright green light envelopes her and the knife deflects into my leg. I pull it out and quickly slide it under the bed and roll over. I’m asleep almost immediately.

Bio:

Wendy Cartwright is a poet/author/reporter/columnist/weirdo out of Columbus, Indiana. Her travels have taken her as far as Mayan Ruins and as near as the filling station. Her undiscerning tastes allow her to find creative fodder regardless of location. She has been published in various print anthologies and been featured in online publications. With three self-published books, she has the most of anyone on her block.