The Candle By The Window

“The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The air and night were brumous as darkness quickly approached the night sky, like a barren woman, desolate from stars. All that painted the canvas of the night sky was a full moon shared with a vague glimpse of the flickering of light from its candle. My feet began walking, steadily but slowly about, and like an autonomic response, I made my way towards the cabin. I wasn’t sure what had come over me; nonetheless, I felt compelled to know more. Instantly, I feel my body tighten, paralyzed with horror, as my next step forward revealed the encounter between my shoe and that of a suspicious sound. My eyes look beneath me and my hands retrieve a letter. I quiver and with shaking hands, I bring the letter within close proximity. The letter was typed on card stock like paper and my fear arose as I pondered, “Why hasn’t this letter been touched by midnight’s snow?” Working up the courage, my tongue utters as I read aloud, “ Purgatory is the hardest riddle of them all.” With no time to reflect on the meaning behind the cryptic message I hold within my hands, a sudden gust of wind causes the letter to fall away from me and as my eyes slowly make their way up, I catch a quick glance of an elapsing silhouette, making its way towards the cabin, but just like smoke, it fades. If ever a time to turn back, it was now. But instead, I wince at memories I wish I could forget, consequently, my mind becomes flooded of times when I coward down in the face of school bullies. “Not this time,” I affirmably but softly whisper to myself... “No waving of the white flag here!” I nod my head in determinacy, and with a deep breath, I bend down in hopes of retrieving the letter. Though I’m convinced the message is the same, my vision now deceives me, for each time my mind attempts to transcribe the words contained within this letter, I find that I’m as blind as a bat! A wave of nausea crashes over me, the cabin that stands before me is now distorted as my world goes vertigo. And just like that, my world turns black, and there I lay, unconscious deep in the woods.

I’m not sure how much time has passed, but I awake nonetheless. I’m freezing, scared, and confused. The night has become still, silence is the only voice I hear, and I fix my eyes towards the cabin as I sit with my knees bent, my arms securely wrapped around my legs, and I hold myself tight. As I continued to stare outward, it was as if my eyes became a flickering projector, the image before me now changed. A lump arose in my throat and I felt terrified to move so I sat idle as the scene played out. I look around, captivated by the beauty that now surrounds me. I find myself in summertime, night is exchanged for day, the snow and ice now replaced with dense foliage, so much so that I can no longer see past what’s before me now, the flowers and trees in full bloom, butterflies surround me, and I’m comforted with lullaby as the birds sing their song. Off in the distance, I can hear the river rapids and the slight scent of nature’s water fills the air around me. The cabin no longer abandoned, attended to, it seems as though everything lives in perfect harmony.

I start to hear giggling and chatter from the mouth of babes, and two small children prance around the cabin. A young girl with long locks of ruby red and a young boy with mousy brown hair. They were clothed in a peculiar fashion and I knew they were not from my era. The boy in trousers and the girl in a simple dress, primitive in aesthetics. I yell out to them at once. But it’s as if I didn’t exist, for they seemed unfazed by my presence. I become rattled, “am I hallucinating,” I think to myself. The windows to the cabin are open and a gentle breeze reveals the sweet smell of cinnamon and ginger. Though I find myself perplexed, the soothing comforts that play out before me, bring a smile to my face. That is, until I see the same candle lit by the window. Once again, my world becomes distorted. Joy is now replaced with doom as dark clouds cast upon the morning sky, the perfect summer storm. An owl hoots in the background, and I begin hearing the sound of clanking from hooves mixed with that of whipping from leather straps that beat against the skin of its oppressed. A man approaches the backside of the cabin, arriving by horse and buggy. His face was weathered and harsh, he seemed all too familiar with the unkindness that consumes our world. He staggered his way towards the front door, fumbling up the stairs that led to the front porch. With closer examination, in his left hand he held a bottle of half drank bourbon, and aside from his intoxication, it seemed as though he suffered from a previous injury as he walked with an undeniable limp. My guess was he was a war veteran. He seemed angry and determined.

His yelling and cussing traveled throughout the house, followed by a woman’s cry, and the screams from the children I once saw playing. In an effort to save them, I marched towards the house but like a strong current, pulling me further away from the shoreline, my gumption was fleeting as the house seemed further and further away. However, I too, was determined and like a gazelle out running its fate, I manage to make it to the front porch. I look up to see blood brushed across the head of the doorframe. I reluctantly enter. Victorian music is playing inside the cabin though I can’t find from where. The cabin is decorated with simple decor. I make my way into a room with a table and one chair. The chair is occupied. Though I can tell it’s female, her back is all that I am given privy to. On the table sits a Remington typewriter No.2. The mystery woman begins typing the words: sooner or later we all fall prey. Just as I get within reaching distance, determined to see her face, she dissipates into thin air. Her message leaves me startled and I’m convinced this ends in my demise, for not long after she fades, my ears are tortured by the haunting sound of footsteps behind me. Deliberately slow and loud in their fashion mimicking footsteps of Goliath, I turn around to meet my fate but no one is behind me. Deep thunder roars from outside and I’m perplexed, seeing snapshots inside. The two little kids appear before me singing and playing, “One, two, buckle my shoe. Three, four, shut the door. Five, six, pick up sticks,” but their clothes now tarnished with blood, their faces distraught. I’m frightened for I now know they are not of the living. I must get away, there is no one here to save, they are already dead! Now lightning accompanies the thunder and the cabin rattles. A wicked laugh reveals I’m in the company of a sinister man. A pair of eyes now look upon mine, not a word is spoken, as he sips a drink from the chalice he cups within his hands. I’m not certain this man was ever human. He looks up from his cup, his eyes are hollow and black. He smiles, revealing needle like teeth. His demonic presence sends chills up my spine. His gaze shifts, looking past me, as if to meet the eyes of someone else. The demonic man whispers, “she knows too much, she must pay the ultimate sacrifice.” A shadow looms behind me, illuminated by the burning candle and my eyes are forced to see the swinging of a blade that’s fast approaching. I try to escape but my voluntary muscles are unable to move, my body feels like a heavy boulder leaving me susceptible, unable to shield myself, forced to endure. I cry out in hesitation but then I suddenly find myself awakening from what appears to be that of a bad dream. I sigh with relief. But only for a moment, for I look around to find myself nestled deep within the same woods. The same woods I felt thankful to have just escaped. And there before me, it sits. The old abandoned cabin with the same burning candle perched upon its window. Behold! Another letter, but this time the message reads.....