Welcome Home

It was the same nightmare every time I slept, day or night. I am trapped in a small room and I cannot move, blinded by bright light all around me. I have always been claustrophobic; I didn’t even like blanket forts when I was a kid, so I woke from these horrific dreams sweating and trying not to scream so I wouldn’t wake Daniel. He always looked so peaceful when he slept, almost angelic. His face in repose calmed me down every time. I watched him for a while, feeling the adrenaline slowly recede. 

I would go crazy if I lost him.

I checked the time: ten minutes before my alarm went off, which meant there was already coffee because Daniel always prepped the coffeemaker for me. Knowing I couldn’t get back to sleep, I climbed out of bed and put my robe on, then shuffled blearily into the kitchen.

Once I had my coffee in hand, I headed into the room where I spent the most time: My study, where I chatted with friends before and after work. Nobody was online this early in the morning, so I took the time to check my bank and credit card accounts to make sure nothing had changed. After that, I still didn’t have much to do until I saw that a friend across the country had logged in. I sent her a message and we talked for a while. Then it was time to head to work. I tiptoed into the bedroom (Daniel worked later than I did, so he always slept in a little) and gently kissed his forehead. “I love you,” I whispered, hoping he could hear me in his dreams.

I never want to live without him.

I arrived at work to find a neat stack of folders on my desk. I am a mortgage loan processor for a local credit union, and these were the loans I was working that morning. There would be another stack after lunch, which I always took with Daniel. He usually brought me something special, like a rose or a bag of those chocolate truffles I like so much. He was so thoughtful.

I will never let him go.

After lunch I worked steadily, making sure I put every file to bed before leaving for the night. When I got home, Daniel had already made me dinner even though he had to go back to work and couldn’t eat with me. I devoured the delicious dish and followed it up with a few of the truffles Daniel gave me last week.

When he got home, he ate his own dinner and we spent the next few hours talking about our respective days at work and just bonding. When we went to bed, he made love to me so tenderly I almost cried, just like he did every night. He even lit a scented candle and draped a red scarf over the bedside lamp to create a more cozy atmosphere.

I would be a wreck if something happened to him.

The nightmare again, only this time it seemed more real, the walls more solid. I could also see some sort of medical apparatus in the room, which had never been there before. There were electrodes stuck to my temples and my chest. I was strapped to a bed or gurney, heavy leather belts crossing my chest, hips, feet, and wrists.

“Hello, Sidney,” said a voice to my left. I turned and saw a cadaverous man in a lab coat with a stethoscope hung around his neck. He had a clipboard in his right hand and a pen in the other. He was observing me with great interest.

“This is just a dream,” I explained to him. “I’m going to wake up any minute.”

“I’m afraid that is no longer the case,” the man said in a regretful tone. “You are now fully awake, for the first time in six months.”

“No,” I insisted. “Whatever’s going on, it isn’t real.”

He seemed to ignore this. “I am Doctor Millhouse, your psychiatrist. You are in the mental health care ward of St. Luke’s Hospital. You have been in a medically-induced coma since shortly after you arrived, because you wouldn’t stop screaming and trying to hurt yourself. We are trying a new medication to treat your condition. To see if it was working, we had to wake you periodically and observe your behavior. That’s why you had those nightmares; they were the only time you were partially awake. This is the first time you haven’t started screaming as soon as you opened your eyes.”

The room was becoming increasingly tangible. How did he know about the nightmares? I was starting to believe that I really was awake and something dreadful had happened to me. Something tragic…..No! We’re not even going to think about it!

“Send me back!” I demanded. “Let me go back. I don’t want to know why I’m here. I just want my….husband….” I trailed off. Had something happened to Daniel? Was that why I was here? I had to ask the question.

“Tell me. Be honest; I can take it. Did Daniel die?” I flinched a little just asking.

“No,” the man said, and I sagged with relief. Maybe I just had a mental breakdown at work. My job was pretty stressful. That must be it. Then the doctor said something that froze my blood.

“He left you for another woman and you had a breakdown.”

Awful memories started to surface. Throwing things. Breaking things.

“When they picked you up, you were scream-crying in the middle of your bed, wearing one of his t-shirts.”

The screams. I remember the screams, mostly at him. So much pain.

“You tried to chew through the veins in your wrist when you got here. Hence the restraints.”

No! He would never! I would not accept this. I pushed the memories back down.

“This is ridiculous,” I asserted. “Daniel is just as devoted to me as I am to him. There’s no way he would ever abandon me. I don’t belong here.”

“This is exactly where you belong, Sidney. Now that you’re awake, you can start to heal.” He paused. “Welcome home.”