Murder, I Wrote

Last night I had a pretty scary experience. I had one of my now-rare nightmares, and of course thought it was all real and that I really was inside a murder mystery.

My mom has been into murder mysteries forever. She's always reading mystery novels, and watches shows like Psych, Monk, Matlock, Diagnosis Murder, etc. And one of her favorites is Murder, She Wrote. I used to watch it with her growing up, and we've both seen almost every single episode. What I like about it (and, actually, the other shows I listed) is that it's very light-hearted in a way. So it isn't stressful to watch, and it's fun to try and predict what's going to happen since a lot of times the episodes have a pattern. Like how the main character always has some friend who you know is going to get framed, or the fact that any time there's a red-haired woman you know she did it. And every episode ends with what my dad fondly calls the "ha-ha!", in which everything turns out okay and the last line is supposed to be funny.

Normally I enjoy Murder, She Wrote. But last night it wasn't so fun.

It started with me and my aunt staying in a room at this large, vacant mansion. There was (of course) a really loud thunderstorm outside, and it was getting late and therefore pitch black outside except for a couple of porch lights. We were supposed to be there alone, so no one else should be on the property. Our room had a tv on one wall and a sliding glass door without curtains or blinds that opened onto a wooden porch outside, which was illuminated by a porch light. We were watching tv, and I keep seeing movement out on the porch out of the corner of my eye. I looked out and kept seeing shadowy people sneaking past the door and going around the house. I told my aunt and she was totally not concerned and tried to explain it away.

It was strange because I was definitely in the episode, but somehow also knew all about the usual episode pattern- so I could try to predict what would happen. I realized that the shadow people were possible suspects and that a murder was going to take place that night, and we would probably find a body the next morning, and that I would have to remember all the details in order to report them to the police. At that point I was mainly worried about how I was going to remember everything.

We woke up the next morning, and, expecting there to have been a murder I led us in a search of the house. But no one had died apparently, so I decided it would most likely happen during the day as most episodes have the murder close to the beginning. I decided to keep my eyes open so I could have a chance of seeing clues and being able to figure out who did it.

All day, we kept meeting other characters in the episode, the details of which I tried really hard to keep straight, but it was very confusing and I couldn't keep track of who was important and who wasn't. No one died though, and I began to wonder- I mean, a murder mystery with no murder doesn't make any sense. Someone was going to die at some point, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out who it would be.

Later on I decided to explore the expansive grounds. I was looking around in the gardens and trees when it started to get dark and I realized I was lost. Finally I spotted the house, far away. I started hurrying toward it, seriously worried about the fact that this is exactly the time for someone to die. Then I realized I was surrounded. And suddenly I was hit by the terrifying realization that it was me- not one of those other people- who was going to be murdered. The fact that I was going to die in the next few minutes hit me so hard with terror that my eyes jerked open, and I found myself on my back in bed, paralyzed and surrounded by dark shapes of people who I was sure were going to kill me. I tried to move and realized the truth, and slowly and with relief I gained back my ability to jerk my head sideways and fully wake up.

I was very nauseated, very groggy, my eyes kept trying to shut and it took all of my focus to keep myself awake enough to not be immediately plunged back into the nightmare, which was hovering just on the inside of my mind's eye, waiting to suck me back in. I fought sleep with all I had until I was able to reach over and turn on my lamp.

Thank god for bedside lamps. I can't count the number of times that lamp has saved my ass. I sat up and fought more successfully to wake up. It was 45 minutes until time for my next dose of Xyrem, but I knew that without it I would just fall right back into the dream, and I was way too tired to stay awake for 45 minutes. So I went to the bathroom, trying not to imagine people jumping out at me to grab me and trying to shake the lingering fear of imminent death. When I got back I took my next dose early, and fell sound asleep until the morning.

When I woke up I was impressed with how Narcolepsy can make anything, even something as silly as Murder, She Wrote, completely terrifying. Go figure.