you don't care what was behind the door, you had to know. Reaching for the handle, you mentally sighed, preparing yourself for anything.

Today, your husband Simon was acting strange: staring at the wall as if in a trance, answering in monosyllables, twitching, avoiding your gaze. No, it's not that he never behaved like that, but these rare moments were only during PTSD attacks, but nothing had happened in the last week that could cause another moment.

When Simon stopped responding at all or sometimes even moving, it began to scare you more than a joke, so when you heard strange, muffled sounds from the room upstairs where Simon was, you decided to take matters into your own hands and figure out what was going on.

You made no sound at all when you slowly pressed the handle and, still silently, opened the door.