HUM Dan Hawley (good inspirational books txt) 📖

tried again, with the same result. Samantha reached for the brass doorknob and turned it slowly. The door opened to her push. Inside, the clear, white light of the LED bulbs in the ceiling lit up the room in an unnaturally bright way. Loose papers and thick books sat in piles on the desk surrounding the closed laptop and Jason’s sleeping torso. He was bent over, with his arms folded, cradling his head as he slumbered. Samantha looked at him with pity. She wished he were sleeping better. She wanted him to be happy and playful like he used to be. Their relationship had never been perfect, but it wasn’t whatever the hell this was.

Samantha longed for home. There, she had family and friends; a support network. Jason did too. He would have support from family and friends as he worked through this sleep stuff. They were just so damn alone here. She flicked the light switch off and closed the door.

* * *

“That detective called today,” Samantha said as she finished up in the kitchen that evening.

“Oh?” Jason asked. He was sitting on the couch, his glazed eyes staring at the tv screen.

“They caught the hiker’s husband. He was trying to get into Canada, I guess.”

Jason looked over at Samantha.

“Did he say why?”

“Why the husband did it?”

“Yeah.”

“Not specifically, no. He just made a comment about an increase in domestic violence since lockdown began.”

Jason looked thoughtful for a moment, then looked back at the tv.

“Hope he hangs.”

Jason’s words were like venom, filled with hate.

“I don’t think they do that here, Jay.”

Samantha walked over and took a seat on the couch beside Jason. He wasn’t so out of it tonight, she thought. Must have been a good nap.

“Either way, one less thing for us to worry about.” Jason put his feet up on the coffee table and leaned back into the soft couch cushions. Samantha shifted and leaned into his side. He put his arm around her and changed the channel. The twenty-four-hour news channel popped on and as if on cue. The banner scrolling at the bottom of the screen was showing statistics of domestic violence in America, comparing incidents before and after the pandemic. Samantha stared at the numbers, wondering what would drive people to the point of hurting those they love.

* * *

Sam’s eyes opened. It was dark except for the lights from outside that cast shadows in their room. The haze softened as her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. Her heart beat steadily in her chest, pumping blood all through her still body. She closed her eyes again and took in a deep breath meant to relax her. Instead of falling back to sleep, though, Samantha’s eyes opened again as she realized Jason’s body was not weighing down the mattress beside her.

She looked over to where he should have been, and saw only the cover, pulled back, and a headless pillow. This was not the first time Samantha had awoken in the middle of the night to find herself alone. Sometimes the kitchen light would be on, and Jason would be sitting at the island, helping himself to a midnight snack. Sometimes the bathroom light would be on, and she would hear the steady stream of piss. Other times though, no lights were on. Which usually meant that Jason didn’t need the light; he was sleepwalking.

Sam sat up and looked around the room, half squinting in the dark. Her eyes scanned the shadows until she finally saw Jason, standing with his ear firmly planted against the wall. He stood motionless. His eyes were open but unseeing. He just stood there, listening to the hum. The first time Samantha had witnessed this odd behavior, she called out to him, asking what the hell he was doing listening to the wall in the middle of the night.

He hadn’t answered.

She had hopped out of bed to scold him for being so crazy about the damn wall noise but had stopped dead in her tracks when she saw his face; his eyes. She had known then that he wasn’t awake. She had crawled back into bed with an uneasy feeling that hasn’t gone away since, but only reduced in severity.

Now though, Samantha thought it sad that she was getting used to this. Jason used to just talk in his sleep a little, mumbling mostly. Then, he started sitting up and having full conversations. Now he would get out of bed and do the weirdest shit.

Samantha lay back down on her side so she could keep an eye on the eerie sight. She couldn’t go back to sleep now, not until he came back to bed. So she lay there for what seemed like hours until Jason finally straightened up, turned, and walked back to bed. He got in and pulled the covers up and over himself. Samantha lay staring at his back. She realized how odd it was that if she didn’t wake up to witness these events, she would never know they happened at all.

CHAPTER 11

The next morning Jason awoke feeling more rested than usual. The dull achy headache that usually greeted him in the morning was gone, and his mind felt fresh for the first time in a while. Samantha was already up, so he sprang out of bed to go and find her.

Samantha was bent over the bathroom sink wearing a tiny white tank top and red booty shorts. Her bum cheeks jiggled playfully from the back-and-forth of her purple toothbrush. Jason crept up behind her, wrapped his arms around her torso, and pressed his body into hers. She paused for a moment and then stood up straight, breaking his embrace. Jason took a step back. Samantha spat mint foam and ladled water to her mouth with her cupped hand to rinse. She gargled and spat the water into the sink, watching Jason in the mirror as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“You’re in a good