Lead Me Back Home

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The year was 1862, The American Civil War between the Union and the Confederacy was in full swing. Lee and his army entered the vicinity of Richmond Virginia, not far from our house near the rural crossroads of Seven Pines.

Daddy knew that it was no longer safe for us to abide in the vulnerable, one room cabin that we called home. We fled into the night with only the tattered clothes on our backs. Before surrendering our hearth, mama turned back, and placed a single candle in the windowsill. She knew that the flame’s warm invitation would entice any reaching soldiers, leading them to food, water, and provisional safety.

As we swiftly made our way into the lightless mountains, we could hear the thundering cannons nearing in the distance. I covered my ears, trying to stifle the intimidating, and grievous sound. I quickly glanced over my shoulder for one last glimpse of our beloved home; the only home that I had ever known. The candle burning in the window radiated a haunting glow across the dark, somber land.

As we journeyed deeper into the woodland, the impure stench of death saturated the sadistic, stale breeze. I frantically gasped for air as mama clasped her apron over my mouth to stall the rancid, metallic scent of blood from entering my lungs.

“Why did you leave the candle burning?” Papa growled with disfavor, and revulsion. The madness in his eyes sent waves of fear, and anxiety through my body. “Because some of those boys are no more than twelve years old! There’re children out there! If your son was scared, injured or hungry would you not hope that someone would show leniency?” Mama quickly contended.

Papa scornfully snatched me from her arms, and vigorously accelerated deeper into the gloaming shadows. The agony, and torment of war had caused him to become unhinged, insane, and mentally unstable.

I wept uncontrollably as I confusedly reached for mama. She was rapidly pursuing, pleading for papa to stop; to relent in his quest of eluding into the unaccustomed umbra. That’s when I discerned the incandescent steel in his hand. “They’ll loot and plunder our home, and then deflagrate everything that we have acquired. Then they’ll come for us, they’ll find us, and slaughter us one by one!” He bellowed through the timber. “What are you doing?” I heard mama cry, breathless, and suffocating as she chased us through the mysterious darkness.

I felt the cold impact, followed by an intense, bitter tingle, and then an agonizing throb. I cried out in pain, and anguish. I saw my mama’s face; pale, and horrified. Then I felt the heat, a sear like nothing I had ever imagined. Papa gracelessly lobbed my body against a tree. I felt nothing, I was numb, and unfeeling. I tried to cry out for my mama, but I was unable to articulate, unable to utter a solitary word.

I could hear mama’s bloodcurdling screams extruding through the trees. I watched the formidable struggle as she fought, and grappled at the knife in papa’s hand. He was much too rugged, and brawny for her to subdue. Abruptly She toppled to the ground; helpless, and defenseless against his madness.

As the bone-chilling darkness enwreathed me, I impassively watched as my papa impaled the sanguine blade into his own heart. There was a bloody battle taking place all around us, and yet, lost in hope we lie cruelly defeated. Our souls unseasonably torn, and our bodies callously forsaken.

Our unembellished cabin remained abandoned for years, but one night, a mysterious candle burned in the window. I found myself running toward the haunting, unearthly glow. The forest was silent, peaceful, and serene. There was nothing frightening or warlike touching the transcendent land; unlike the night I died beneath that weary, old tree.

My mama knew that the phantom light from the candle would one day lead me back home.