The moaning was what woke her up from a sound sleep. Startled she sit up in bed, and tried to see where the sounds were coming from. Her eyes strained the darkness looking for the source of the sounds. But in the inky blackness she could see nothing. She heard the moan again, it sounded like it was coming from the bed beside her. All of a sudden it hit her, Eric was home! He must have came home while she was sleeping. The relief she felt at knowing who the sounds were coming from was tempered by a sudden surge of anger. Once again her husband had stayed out all night drinking. Since his return from a tour of duty in Iraq he had changed. Long gone was the sweet, good-natured man she had married 5 yrs ago. The new Eric was angry and restless and prone to violent fits of rage at the slightest of transgressions. He also had trouble sleeping at night. When he did get some sleep it was plagued by terrible nighmares. He would toss and turn in the bed, sometimes moaning and at other times even screaming loud enough to wake the dead.
Thankfully they did not live in a condo or apartment or who knows how many times the police would have been called. The pills the doctor had prescribed him didn't seem to help so he tried to drown out the dreams with liquor. Unfortuantely even the booze couldn't chase them completely away. Now he had taken to sleeping with a wicked looking knife under his pillow and a loaded gun on his bedside table. No matter how much she protested he insisted that it made him feel safe to have fast access to his weapons. When she had tried to comfort him during his previous nightmares he had shrugged her off denying that anything was wrong. After the frequent rebuffing she really didn't know what to say or to do anymore.
Not wanting to be rebuffed again tonight she reached over to her bedside table and flicked on the light. Brightness flooded the room letting her see that it was indeed Eric laying next to her. Sighing in relief she reached over to shake her husband awake. His well muscled arm under her hand felt warm and wet to the touch. Startled she pulled back the chenille comforter covering him. Blood ran in rivlets down his arm and dripped slowly down onto the pristine white sheets below him. Glancing down she could now see what looked like knife wounds running vertically down his arm. In his other hand he was clutching the wicked looking blade that he usually kept under his pillow, it too was covered in blood. "Oh my God, please help me. Eric ,wake up! Eric, please wake up! " her voice rose hysterically as she screamed his name over and over again into the empty room.
