Out of the Woods

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The almost autumn breeze whipped through the trees, picking up fallen leaves on its way and carrying them away from their final resting place. The wind lifts the ends of the girl’s hair so that they’re dancing around her shoulders, but the flame remains steady.

————

A few hours earlier, in the very same woods, a boy on the verge of becoming a man is watching the curve of the back of a girl’s heel as it walks across the forest floor. He’s spent a considerable amount of time trailing after those active boots as of late, but there were no complaints on his end. Up ahead, Esme’s hand reaches out to brush along the trunk of a tree like a friend saying hello and Aidan’s lips curve upwards before he can think about it. Even though he initially had concerns about the path they were taking, one small gesture put him at ease. Admittedly, instead of staying vigilant about the landmarks they might have been passing, he’s instead catching the reflection in Esme’s hair and the way it glints red in the sunlight. Behind them, he can hear the distant chatter of their two slow-walking friends who he was sure had already cracked open the contraband bottle of rum that was causing the hold-up.

In this part of the woods, the usual symphony of insects chirping and birds squawking and critters shuffling about has quieted down, almost as if there is less life here. Esme’s boots suddenly still, nearly causing a collision as Aidan halts behind her just in time before he completely ran her over. His gaze follows hers to a dilapidated cabin surrounded by trees that appear to be hiding this forgotten place away. Their eyes are transfixed for so long that Brooks’ and Liv’s stumbling footsteps get close until they, too, are assessing the discovery.

Unlike new builds that seem as if they’ve one day sprouted from the ground in a display of fresh concrete glory, this house instead looks like it is actively trying to return to the very land it was built upon. It appears as if the house has received none of the care that it would need to thrive. In a way, maybe it gave up on that idea long ago. What may have once been windows are now empty, jagged openings in the walls that only have a vague memory of their previous life. A roof that presumably started as bright and gleaming tin had long since lost its fight to the all-consuming rust. The surrounding foliage is unkempt at best, probably only in part to the animals brave enough to get close. If other homes projected an ambiance of welcoming, of come on in, this cabin gave out the exact opposite.

“Whoa, creepy alert,” breathes Liv, breaking the silence with a trademark succinct observation.

While the rest of them are frozen in place, Brooks steps closer to the building. He whips around to face them again, pointer finger raised in emphasis. “You know, I remember Gavin and his friends telling me about a cabin in the woods where a little girl was murdered inside and ever since then you can hear her wandering around the house, asking where her family went and when they’re coming back to get her.”

Skeptically, Liv retorts, “Maybe you should consider the source on that one.”

Brooks’ older brother had spent most of their young life attempting to get Brooks to believe any number of lies about the world, so Liv’s point wasn’t unfounded. Once when Brooks was four and Gavin nine, he had mentioned casually that Brooks was actually the only alien in the entirety of their family line and that one day soon their parents were going to have to send him back to his real family in the stars. Brooks had immediately sobbed, asking what he could do to stay here with his family, his new family. For 11 months, Brooks managed all of his older brother’s chores that his small body could handle. It was exhaustion rather than realization that finally ended it all and eventually leaked a confession out of Gavin.

“Maybe it was just an old family home that never got passed down,” offers Aidan, his hopeful hand gesticulating as he spoke.

“Because they were all murdered?” questions Brooks, warming up to the idea.

“And now they haunt the house?” adds Liv, equal parts curiosity and hesitancy in her voice.

Aidan abandons the theory with a sigh. Brooks’ eyebrows raise slightly and his lips purse, a surefire sign of an idea forming. “Going in could prove if it’s haunted as hell or not.” His tone is attempting to be flippant, but everyone here knows better.

While his proposition lingers around them, what sounds like a screen door on the back side of the house slams against the structure. The branches sway and groan against the wind as the house creaks in response.

Her voice loud and unwavering, Esme declares, “No. Whatever happened in there, we shouldn’t disturb it.”

“Esme’s right. We should just leave it as we found it,” Aidan agrees. Liv’s eyes immediately dart over to Esme to fix her with a pointed look, which her friend studiously ignores. Liv is actively fighting a grin, anyway. Truthfully, her idea of a fun time does not involve breaking into weird old houses, even if it appears as though it hasn’t been touched in decades. In a majority vote, Brooks would lose.

“I’m not about that little girl ghost life,” states Liv. “My granny used to always say that disturbing someone who’s passed on can lead to bringing them home with you. And I only have a twin bed that I’m not sharing.”

“I’ll just open the door, just to see,” insists Brooks. His hand is reaching for the door before anyone can protest when a flock of birds comes pouring out of a nearby tree, the forceful sound of their many wings flapping in unison drowning out the breath Esme releases in relief.

Using the moment, Liv moves closer to Brooks, and the house as well, in order to hand the rum off to him, hoping that it’s enough of an incentive to shift his focus. It is. His hand grasps the neck of the bottle before taking a long swig and his feet begin moving in the other direction.

Their original mission remembered, they all slowly march on. Every cell in Esme’s body is telling her to keep going, is pushing her away from the house. She wants to get everyone else as far as possible, too. Her stride is as fast as you can get before you just break into a full-out run. Aidan sends a few wary looks back over his shoulder until he hears Esme’s voice cut through the air and then his eyes are on hers as they urge him forward. “Follow me.” To the ends of the earth, he thinks.

————

Long after the sun trades places with the moon, the girl enters the cabin. She’s only a few years older than the foursome who stumbled upon the very space earlier in the evening. She lights a candle and places it in the window, just like he used to do. It was only once she got older that she fully comprehended that the lit candle was a signal, a warning to anyone else who might want to use this cabin that it was occupied. The pain it had caused her was so large that she never had any room to think that anyone else could have experienced the same thing in the same place as her. She takes a look around, not to remember the room as it is or how it was in her memories—that she will never be able to erase—but perhaps to make her decision.

The first time he brought her here, she didn’t scream. His hand took her much smaller one and pulled her across the threshold. A piece of her soul was ripped away from her every time she was brought here. A piece of her always stayed behind when she’d gone. She has often wondered if there were any pieces of her left. Puddles of wax pool on the sill as the flame persists, and the girl realizes that she was never one for sentimentality.

————

Upstream, a couple of miles away, four rather inebriated teens passing a bottle around are the only witnesses when the bright flames rise up over the trees and swallow a house whole.