I woke up groggy and unclear of where I was. I could hear the wind blowing the trees outside. It was cool in the room, and I could see moonlight coming through the crack between the curtains. I was laying on a soft bed. My bed, I wondered? I lifted my head a little and could see if was indeed in my own bed. Next to me was my wife. She was still sleeping.
Was it all a horribly bad dream? A nightmare? I reached up and touched my head where it had hit the wall. It was bandaged and still painful to the touch. My wrists and ankles were sore too, and I remember the zip ties. My upper back felt burned from the taser. No, it wasn’t a bad dream, but it was a living nightmare.
How did I get in the bed? My wife certainly couldn’t do that on her own. Who bandaged my head? She couldn’t stand the sight of blood. I was wearing on boxer briefs. The pair I hand on yesterday. Someone took off the rest of my clothes. Looking back towards my wife, I was both comforted and bothered by her presence. I was angry with her for what happened, it I was also relieved that I might get some answers.