It all started
with the nightmares.
Is this a dream? Am I asleep? Is this
really happening to me?
Strapped in a straitjacket, I find myself
stationed uncomfortably on a hard metal chair. Two uniformed
police officers stand over me, staring down at me. One of them
tugs forcefully on the jacket’s straps to verify that they
are secure. The other suddenly jerks my feet up off the floor
almost pulling me from my chair in the process. Holding my shoes
by the heels, he allows the first policeman to lock a pair of
inversion boots tightly around my ankles. Next, I hear that
distinct tearing sound as one of the officers rips off a couple
yards of duct tape from a large gray roll with his teeth.
Together, the two meticulously wrap the tape steadfastly around
the boots and over the buckles, making absolutely certain the
boots won’t fly open once I’m hanging upside down.
Unable to move either my arms or feet, I
attempt to see just how tight the straitjacket is by wriggling
back and forth in my steel folding chair. There is no give, no
slack at all. I am completely confined.
“Ha, ha, I guess I’ve gained a few
pounds,” I chuckle nervously to the officers, trying to
relieve some of the tension in the air. However, their lack of
response makes me even more uptight.
