Sleeptalk
By Devin Baron
     “Shae,” Hunter mutters with agonizing heat. Celia suddenly notices how tangled her legs are with his. She feels her sweat glands begin to open. The sheets turn on, preheating like a kitchen oven. 
     “Shae, shae,” he repeats, even steamier than before. Hunter’s voice is convicted, experiencing levels of pleasure that Celia had never seen in him while awake.  
     A sharp pinch pokes at Celia’s ribs. She feels the tinge of pain trying its best to surface, but her mind’s gavel sounds quickly, ordering a veto. She promised herself she wouldn’t wake him tonight. She would watch until the end.
      “Yes! Yes, Shae!” He got louder. Celia’s calf twitches. She quickly jerks her head up, fearful she woke him. She sees Hunter’s eyes are still closed and lays her head back on his shoulder.
     Celia knew that some people talked in their sleep, but she’d never witnessed the phenomenon before Hunter. It had been happening for almost three weeks now. He had cycled through about six or seven names, but he always came back to Shae. 
     Yesterday, Celia started telling her roommate, Ola, about Hunter’s sleeptalking. Ola wasn’t a skeptic at heart, but it was natural for her to immediately tell Celia she shouldn’t trust Hunter. What faithful guy says other girls’ names in his sleep? To Ola, Hunter was undoubtably cheating.
      But there’s one part Celia did not told Ola. 
     For the first couple of weeks, Celia always woke Hunter up. The sexual talk was too uncomfortable for her. When she told Hunter he was sleeptalking, he would ask what he was saying. Celia always had a lie ready. 
     “It sounded like you were playing basketball or something. You said ‘I got 25,’ and I think you started saying ‘lockdown’ at one point. ‘Lockdown, lockdown.’ It was hard to tell. It’s mostly all mumbling.”
      “You were saying ‘fetch Champ’ and ‘presents.’ So maybe you were dreaming about playing with Champ around Christmas time? I don’t know.”
     About a week ago, Celia started to watch for longer. She was curious. She wanted to know more. That’s when she learned there was a second half of the scene.
      The murmurs turn into screams. Hunter’s crotch stops thrusting and his entire body begins convulsing. It was horrifying. Sitting through the pleasure had been awful, but it was nothing compared to sitting through the panic.
     “Shae! Shae! Shae! Shae!” Hunter’s voice shrieked like he was watching a loved one be abducted by brutal aliens or torn to pieces by savage dogs. Celia did her best to stay still. She couldn’t help but shiver. The bedframe squelched beneath Hunter’s frenetic movements. 
     “Shae!” he lets out one last time before jerking into the air and slamming down on the comforter. His eyes open with fire in them. He gasps for air as he aggressively swivels his head toward Celia.
     “It’s okay. It’s okay Hunter.” Celia is up for the challenge tonight. She is going to investigate.
     Hunter settles as he realizes where he is and who he’s with. Celia is as comforting as a childhood blanket. 
     Celia rests her hand on his hairy thigh. “What was your dream about Hunter?” she asks peacefully.
     “I—I can’t tell you,” he mumbled with water in his eyes and a gulping hold in his throat.
     “Yes you can Hunter. We all have dreams. I have dreams and nightmares that I don’t like too.”
     “No. I can’t. I can’t tell you.”
     “Look, I know you’re dreaming about other girls.” Hunter’s eyebrows turned confused. “Or something like that,” Celia continued. “You say their names when you’re sleeptalking.”
     Hunter hangs his head and fights back the tears. 
     “I’m so sorry, Celia,” he said, letting the tears fall.
     “No, you’re okay.”
     Hunter cries more while Celia comforts him.
     “Are you cheating on me Hunter?”
     He shakes his head no.
     “Well then you’re okay. I think about other guys in my dreams too. It doesn’t mean we’re bad people.”
     Hunter shakes his head in denial. He can’t stop crying. Celia doesn’t understand.
     “Hunter, I’m serious,” Celia insists. “We’re all messed up. We’re all perverts in our dreams. Having dreams doesn’t make you a bad person.”
     Hunter remains unconvinced. She doesn’t understand what he is. He wishes so badly that he never even started dating her. He could have spared her from this. He just thought with her, it could be different.
     “Just tell me about your dreams. I’m with you. I’m here to listen, Hunter. Who is Shae? Carly? Trisha?”
     Hunter hugs Celia, more for himself than for her. He wants to tell her all of it. He doesn’t know if he can. He takes a few moments before he starts to say something, taking deep breaths of preparation.
     “They’re girls I’ve slept with.”
     “Like, past girlfriends or girls you’re sleeping with now?”
     “No, I’m not sleeping with anyone now. I’m not cheating on you. I would never hurt you. I would never hurt anyone, but…”
     “But what? What is it?”
     He tries to continue. “Some of the girls I dream about were my girlfriends. Some were just hookups.” He hesitates for a second. “And one of them is neither.”
     “Okay,” Celia whispers, again further relieved but further confused. “Well. Can you tell me more about the dreams? Like what happens in them? Why are they so traumatizing?”
     Hunter weeps. “I’m so sorry, Celia.”
     “It’s okay.”
     “No, I’m so sorry. I thought I could stop. I thought I could do better. I just—I suck. I’m so terrible.” He sobs. “I really care about you Celia, and I—I just wish it could’ve been different. I wish we could’ve waited until marriage. Maybe that would’ve fixed it. Or maybe we should’ve just stayed friends. I wish we would’ve stayed just friends. You would’ve been better off.”
     “What do you mean?”
     Hunter keeps crying and shaking his head. He looks terrified.
     “What do you mean? I don’t understand, Hunter.”
     “Everyone I have sex with gets hurt. At least, I think they get hurt. I don’t know. I only see that part in my dreams. In real life, they just disappear. I wake up and they’re just gone. They’re gone forever and I never see them again, like they don’t exist anymore, like they never existed in the first place. And I can’t tell anybody, because every time I try to talk to someone who knew them, they just make me feel like I’m crazy, but I don’t think I’m crazy. I have all these experiences, but no one else has them. Everyone else is either a better person or a way worse person that I don’t wanna relate to. So I feel like I’m alone, and I feel like…I’m a monster. But she’s the monster. And if I just avoided everything and everyone, then maybe it’d all be okay.” He trembles. “But in my dreams…”
     “What happens in the dreams?”
     “She kills them. She slashes them open.”
     “Who is ‘she’? Who kills them?”
     “Shae. I’ve tried to make her stop, but she won’t stop. She just keeps coming back, and I can’t change it. I thought I could change. I thought I could get better. I tried so hard, Celia. I’m so sorry. I can’t change. I’m so sorry.”
     Celia doesn’t understand what he’s talking about, but she doesn’t want to make him any more upset or uncomfortable. She decides to stop pressing for the night. She’ll learn more some other time. “It’s okay Hunter. They’re just dreams.”
     “I can’t keep doing this. You’ve got to survive, Celia!” Tears run down his face once more. “You have to! Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.”
     “I’m not gonna leave you. We’re okay. I want to keep growing with you. I want to figure all this out and help you. I want to understand.”
     Hunter eventually stops crying. Celia hugs him tight.
     “You wanna drive to my place? We could sleep over there tonight if you want, just to change up the vibes?” Celia asked Hunter.
     “That sounds good. I’d like that.”
     They put clothes on and drive to Celia’s apartment. Celia makes playful comments about Hunter as they lie down. Celia giggles. Hunter tries to giggle with her, but he’s still too scarred. He thinks of the terrors. He’s suppressed in regret and suffocated in dread. He hates Shae. He hates himself for falling again, surrendering to the never-ending cycle.
     All is calm. The two lie together, appreciating the company of one another. Hunter dozes off after about ten minutes. Celia looks at him fondly.
     Celia has trouble falling asleep, as she does from time to time. She locks her raging thoughts in a cage to contain them. She locks the door. She neurologically travels to the electrical panel; she switches off the reflect breaker, the desire breaker, and the vulnerability breaker. She relaxes and begins to doze off. She feels her body give way to the comforter. Hunter begins to mutter very quietly, but she doesn’t pay it any mind. Everything has been worked out. She doesn’t know who Shae is, but she knows it’s all in Hunter’s head. She knows they can get through it. She just needs to help Hunter understand. He’ll understand they’re just dreams. Everything will be normal.
     Suddenly, there’s a booming sound from the kitchen! Celia jolts up. Her heart pounds. There is someone in the apartment. Hunter’s sleeptalk begins to reach a normal volume, repeating himself over and over. Celia deciphers it’s a new name this time. Celia sits up, alerted. She hears the footsteps draw closer, and her fright turns from simmer to boil. The steps resound in a metronome rhythm as the intruder reaches the hallway. Celia denies that it's real. This must be a dream, she thinks. She can’t die tonight.
     Hunter continues louder. His reverberating cry fills the room. Celia starts crying.
     “Hunter!” she shouts. “Hunter, wake up! Wake up Hunter! What are you doing? Why are you saying that? Stop saying that Hunter! Stop! Please stop! Wake up! Please Hunter, wake up! Please!”
     The bedroom door crashes in powerfully, crushing Celia’s TV and slamming into her desk. Celia doesn’t believe it. This is not happening.
     Celia glances at Hunter. He’s still asleep. Celia trembles. She will not let herself be subdued. Hunter’s stories were figments of imagination, things he made up. They weren’t real. This wasn’t real! They were just his nightmares. They had to be. Those stories aren’t real. He just thinks they’re real. Why is this happening?
     Celia looks up at the doorframe, with terror-stricken tears and snot running down her face. A figure stands there silhouetted, curved machete in her hand, ready to attack. 
     Hunter belts out the night’s name once more, this time the loudest, most distressed name he had ever called out. This was the most he ever cared about someone, the most he ever stood to lose. He loved Celia. He watches as Shae attacks her. He tries to wake up, but he can’t. He’s trapped in his nightmare, tied down and made to watch the destruction. He screams. 
     “Celia!”