Sleeping Slaughter

CHAP 4: " What do you mean you think so?"

8:05a.m.
Lousiana State Penitentiary
Interrogation Room 2

"What do you mean you think so?" The puzzled detective exclaimed?

I never got properly diagnosed but I think I sleep walk.  Growing up, there were instances where I'd start the night off in the comfort of my own bed and I'd wake up either in another room or back in my bed with a splitting headache and some sort of memento from the night before. In this case, that memento was someone's blood on my hands.

I never took it on because it never occurred often to say it became a pattern and noone got hurt, that is until now I guess. Maybe, once every year since I was about 16, I sleep walked. I am now twenty-four.

The detective rose from his seat and walked out the door.

***

9:30a.m.
Louisiana State Penitentiary
Interrogation Room 2.

I laid my forehead against the cold steel of the table, trying to drown out the pounding that wouldn't seem to leave. My vision became blurred and I slumped off my chair and tried making my way to the little water cooler in the corner of the room. Downing atleast four cups of water, I started regaining some strength but not enough to help me get through this.

Sitting back now in one of the three little metal chairs in the room, I took in my surroundings. It all felt so surreal that I was here. The grey walls hid the screams of the convicted. Intimidating and nerve racking it was. Humid, as if to make me as uncomfortable as I can be. I didnt even have the slightest idea how long I'd been in here, tho I knew it couldnt be more than a couple hours, but it felt like days. A few hours can feel like days when you're sitting in a room alone with no clock and no sign of daylight or the outside world. I was truly left alone with my thoughts and that could be the most damaging thing. 

Where was the detective?

I felt helpless and impotent. My brain was tied in knots. My fingernails began biting into my palm, my heart palpitated in my chest as if to give me a seizure any minute.

Did I do it?

This question began clawing it's way back into my mind, no matter how much I tried to put it away. There was no way I could've done that. I hated Dan, I hated everything about him. His personality was shit, he had no ambition, he was arrogant, always brooding about everything and he had the worst temper, which unfortunately he'd take out on Tori from time to time. Yet, she stayed. Why? I'd never understand.

***

10:07a.m.
Lousiana State Penitentiary
Interrogation Room 2

My inner debates were interrupted with the screeching of the metal door.

Finally

The detective walked in, followed by a man dressed in a black short sleeved shirt and khaki pants. His blue glasses laid on his nose, as he took out a yellow notepad and pen from his brown satchel.

Introducing himself, he said, " Mr. Archibald, My name is Sam Seft. I'm a Sleep Specialist from Lafayette Surgical Speciality Hospital. I've come to talk to you about your sleep disorder."
Confused, I looked at him. "I already told the detective it wasn't something to be concerned about as it never resulted in violence in the past" I exclaimed, my voice now shaking.
"Unfortunately, given the circumstances, we need to look into your condition. This could make the difference and prove your innocence, should you be Mr. Archibald" he informed me.
"I AM INNOCENT DAMN IT!" I screamed. I was now agitated. Despite my inner debates, I always had a gut feeling that there was no way I could've done this. I was never a violent person and I wasn't going to start now. Due to this, I quickly regained my composure and I apologised to both the doctor and detective. Both accepted my apology.
"I'm going to give you a questionnaire to fill out and after you've completed it, we're going to go through it and diagnose your disorder." The doctor explained while handing me the document. I simply nodded and looked at the papers infront of me.

The questionnaire

1. How often do you sleep?
Rarely

2. Have you experienced extreme stress lately at home/work etc.
Yes. Work was riding my ass about finishing a deposition for Monday for the last three weeks.

3. Have you been sick at all in the last week or two?
Yes. A fever but I brushed it off as just a passing flu

4. Did you have instances where you'd wake up feeling disoriented and not in the place you were when you fell asleep?
Yes.

5. Have you been consuming alcohol regularly in recent times?
Yes. I did indulge almost every night to keep my nerves from racking my soul because of my work deposition.

6. Are you taking any medication to help with your sleep?
Yes. Sleeping pills

7. Do you find yourself being extremely sleep deprived during the day even if you've got a good night's rest the night before?
Yes.

I answered yes to every single question. Was this condition even worse than I thought? The migraine came crashing. I pinched the middle of my forehead trying to rid myself of the pain, sliding the document back to the doctor.

Reading it, he peered up and looked at me through his glasses, "Well Mr. Archibald, seems like we have a problem here."