The Woman In The Shadows

Part Eleven - The Early Bird Gets The Worm

     When Sheila opened her eyes again she found herself tucked tightly into bed, her outfit different than she last remembered - her old clothes in a heap by the hamper. She giggled to herself quietly as she attempted to overcome the drowsiness of sleep .

     Jim, he always managed to get the clothes just by the hamper, but never in the hamper.

     It must have been morning, the light was coming through the spaces in the drapes just as it always did. The light shining through, directly into Sheila's eyes, making them water just as it always did - no matter where they lived, Sheila seemed to find herself damn near blinded by the morning's sun.

     Yet, for some reason, waking up in this room seemed oddly familiar. No, it was well beyond deja vu, Sheila realized as she thought about it harder. It was almost as if she had woken up in this room every morning for at least a hundred years, making Sheila feel instantly insane for allowing such a silly idea to fill her head. 

     But it was a different kind of idea, an idea beyond articulation - an idea Sheila couldn't help but feel had originated elsewhere; not in her own mind - like when you remember a talking point during a discussion, a little factoid or maybe an interesting commentary on a current event you know little about. You don't remember where you heard it - you remember you didn't come up with it all on your own, but the source is lost.

     As Sheila looked around the familiarly unfamiliar room, this loss of origin of her memories made her heart race.

     Sheila looked over to find Jim asleep in the reading chair they had placed by window, leaving Sheila feeling alone and confused. Jim never slept outside of the bed. Even the most severe of arguments would be settled before bed, always doing their best to never go to bed angry.

     Yet, there he was, asleep in a chair rather than beside his wife - a chair! Sheila felt nauseous, hungover even, as she tried to focus.

     As she tried to remember the night before.

     Had they gotten into an argument? Did she say or do something she would soon regret once the early morning fog lifted from her mind?

     All of this left Sheila feeling strange, isolated, and - as she realized she could not move, her torso bound to the bed with thick rope, her feet and hands tied to the bedpost with Jim's old neck ties, and the two strangers watching her from the corner, an expression of equal terror and concern on their faces - Sheila felt rage.