If you’ve ever awakened from a dream to still feel that it was real and lost track of where you are complete, that’s how Thomas came into wakefulness. He slowly opened his eyes and was surprised to find himself lying down in the middle of a large grassy field. It was daylight, and he looked down at his ripped and muddy clothes.
“What happened?” He said out loud to himself, using his elbows to push himself upright. He felt groggy, and the memories of the hut and the woman were still etched into his mind. It was more like a dream now than something that was real. Maybe it was the blow to the head. Thomas reached up and touched his forehead where he remembered the blood had been. Nothing or it was just dry.
Slowly, and with great effort, he pushed himself to his feet. His luggage was just about a meter away, and he went and picked it up. In the daylight, the field and the trees around it seemed much more wide open and inviting. He thought he could see houses through the trees a ways off and began moving in the direction.
He moved slowly. His aching head beguiling the rest of his body to move forward, but after some time he reached the end of the trees and was looking into the backyards of houses on the edge of town. Thomas knew where he was now.
Making his way around the house that he thought might be the Peterson’s, he walked out to the road that connected them. It was only about another ten-minute walk before he got to his parent’s neighborhood and turned down into the drive. It was quiet, and while he didn’t have his watch, and his phone was gone, he was guessing around six or seven AM. That didn’t stop him from hammering loudly on the door.
“Mom! Dad! I’m home!” He yelled. After a few more times he heard a sound inside, and the door creaked open.
“Thomas!” His mom exclaimed, “You’re home! What happened to you?!” She jumped forward to hug him, muddy as he was.
“It’s a long story…” He answered.