They left me alone with my thoughts.

The heavy door was once again closed, but the intense lights remained on – plainly visible now that my blindfold was gone. The mirror was once again just that, although now that I knew its secret I assumed that someone was always on the other side…watching me. Waiting.

I presumed they were moving on to other psychological tortures. I had barely slept in days and the lights would help ensure that I stayed awake. As if the memory of my wife’s anguished screams weren’t sufficient for that.

The cloth that had been my gag lied crumpled on the floor. As I dully stared at it, I slowly felt my head clearing, as one awakening from a drunken stupor. I was becoming lucid.

I began to detect my own stench from days of pissing and shitting my pants. Sweat. The diesel fumes from the chugging machinery next door. A faint tinge of salt. Blood.

...

Dried blood. There…on the scarf on the floor. My wife’s scarf they had used to silence me.

Her green scarf.

I finally awoke fully.