The Dark Place In Your Mind II: More Strange Tales

Robert Isn't Well

My brother Robert became a part of our family at two years old. At five years old, I was pretty excited to finally have a kid brother to play with, adopted or not. As most kids, especially boys, it was an adjustment for our difference in years but it wasn't long before we learned to get along. Our family felt somehow more complete. That is...until Robert started acting strange.

From age two to eight, Robert was just fine. He was your typical, rambunctious boy that was into everything. But for the last two months, some behaviors began to manifest.

First, he would blank out on me. I chalked it up to him spacing out, simply being lost in thought. It wasn't so much him spacing out, it was the extent of it. Literally I could be yelling while standing right in front of him and he wouldn't register anything. Mom and Dad noticed it, and told me to let them know if he did it more. So he did, and they took him to a doctor. Apparently the doctor said that Robert was having absence seizures. I was old enough to understand, so I knew I had to watch him even more than usual. Yet, the behavior began to take some other turns.

His voice began to exhibit some changes in emotion. What use to be an upbeat kid began to sound more monotone, as if the very emotion was being sapped out of his voice. Mom and Dad said that he was probably dealing with his condition and not to get too worried. Although I knew of Robert's condition, it was strange to see him walking and freeze completely in mid-step. After he snapped out of it, he would be seemingly unaware of what was happening. The episodes seemed accentuated by his monotone voice, asking if he "did it again."

It made me sad and I wished I could do something, but my feeling of sadness began to change into feeling creeped out. I knew it was all explained medically, but you'd be scared too if you woke up like me, in the middle of the night with Robert standing over my bed.

"Ahh, Robby! What are you doing?!" I cried out, jolting up in bed. He responded after an uncomfortable pause, sounded more monotone than ever.

"Oh, I am sorry. Did I frighten you?"

"Yes! What are you doing in my room?"

"I apologize. I simply wanted to understand how you sleep so well."

Dad came into the room with a concerned wrinkle in his brow.

"Chad? Rob? What's going on?"

"Dad, I woke up to him standing over my bed!" He turned his head to Robert.

"Is that true, buddy?"

"Yes, father."

Father? Robert normally didn't call him that.

"Probably just sleep-walking." He said softly, and started to usher Robert out.

"Dad?" The tone at which I asked snapped his head towards me. "Is there other things going on with Robby?"

"I...uh...I don't know son." His eyes looked heavy, somehow. "Let's just pretend he didn't do it for now. I know the sleepwalking is kinda creepy, but we don't want to make him feel bad about it."

I accepted his explanation, but something just didn't feel quite right. When my parents let me get some time on the computer to play games, I looked up anything I could find about sleepwalking. It seemed it was possible to talk in your sleep, but Robert always sounded far away so there was no telling if he was awake or not. His response about understanding how I slept well told me that he was awake enough to understand me, but sometimes people could give lucid responses while asleep as well. The most logical question was to ask him if he remembered our convesrsation.

"Hey, Rob." I approached him after my internet search. He looked back at me with eyes that saw me, but seemed to look past me. "Do you remember standing in my room last night and talking to me?"