by Mia Ford
“What do you have?” Carrie inquired as she watched me walk toward the cabinet.
“I’m…not sure?” I replied, opening the door, and peering inside.
Immediately, the dusky, musty smell hit me and nearly knocked me back. Standing corrected, I was sure I had never opened this closet, since I was the owner of the cabin. It certainly didn’t smell like it was utilized in at least a decade.
Seeing remnants of a life I would rather not think about, I sighed and shook my head, but pressed on, hoping that what I remembered would still be there.
I quickly searched through clothing and a few boxes that were half opened but didn’t find what I was looking for right away. Instead, I found a barrage of belongings to a life that was no longer here.
Pictures, keepsakes, and other mementos I didn’t even realize I had were piled high in the small area of the cabin that I had almost completely forgotten about.
It was strange to be searching through here, with the intent to find something other than a survival tool I had lost.
I was immediately struck by exactly long it had been since I looked for something that was normal.
I hadn’t done anything fun or even remotely behaved like a human in a long time.
However, right now, it seemed as though I was on a crash course back to reality.
I couldn’t help but think that my re-emergence into reality wasn’t half bad with Carrie by my side.
“Is everything okay?” I heard Carrie call from the bed, breaking me out of staring deep into a box of memories.
“Yeah…I’m fine,” I answered, shoving the box aside and reaching for another one.
“If it’s too much trouble, don’t worry about it, Johnathan. It was just a suggestion. Don’t go crazy.”
“Too late for that,” I insisted with a grin, poking my head out of the closet for a moment before going back to dig a little deeper.
The next box I grabbed seemed strangely familiar. I opened it and sure enough, I found exactly what I was looking for.
I dragged it out and placed it on the bed.
Carrie carefully went through it, eventually looking up at me with a strange expression.
“This cabin wasn’t always an escape for a crazy loner with no friends or family,” I admitted, sitting down on the other side of the box.
“Are these yours?” She asked, before she amended her statement, “I mean, did you bring them from wherever it was that you lived before?”
“Yes,” I insisted in a facetious tone, “I decided that I would try to teach Jake to play. He’s gotten really good at Scrabble. The dog can’t speak a lick of English, but damn, can he spell it.”
I laughed as she narrowed her eyes at me.
Playfully shoving my arm, she insisted, “I don’t know. This just seems like a weird thing for a fishing cabin to have, especially when you’re the one living in it.”
“Yeah, well, before it was mine, it was my grandfathers. My brother and I used to come up here to spend some time with him. At night, we’d play a game with him. He’d cheat, we’d get mad and the game would usually end before there was a true winner…You know, normal family game night.”
Cassie gigged, but her eyes were seriously set upon my gaze, “I’m happy that you’ve started talking about your family.”
“I mentioned I had a grandfather and a brother; only one of those is actually any kind of in site into my past. Everybody has a grandfather.”
“But you knew him?” She urged.
“Yeah, I knew him…Unfortunately, that’s about the only thing worth mentioning about my family. My grandfather isn’t here anymore…”
“And your brother?”
“He grew up to be an even bigger dick than I am.”
“That’s hard to believe,” Carrie teased, and I narrowed my eyes at her, feigning insult.
“Thanks,” I answered, “Real nice. Do you want to play a game or not?” I turned my attention back to the box and shuffled through it, trying to direct her away from the questions about my past.
“Sure! What’s your favorite game?” She insisted, peering into the box again, as though she didn’t know what she was doing.
I glared up at her, “Oh no. You’re the one who wanted to play a game. You pick.”
I was getting a little too chummy with this woman and despite my feelings for her, I couldn’t go spilling my guts to her. It wasn’t something I was ready, prepared, or possibly even able to do, so the point was mute.
She could ask all the crazy personal questions she wanted, there was no way I was going to be answering anything else.
She seemed to understand this from my tone, so she didn’t press the issue.
She ended up choosing the game Sorry!
I had forgotten we even owned that game. Though, I tried my best to pretend that I didn’t have any kind of memory attached to it.
However, once we opened it up, a flood of my past came rushing back. The cabin, in addition to everything in it was a reminder of a time that had long past. It was a time I knew would never be possible again and that bothered me.
Yet, thinking about it, for the first time in years, wasn’t as devastating as I thought it would be. I had spent a good amount of time running from my past; even going as far as locking memories away in a closet I almost forgot was there.
When those memories were unlocked, though, it wasn’t the punch in the gut that I feared it would be. Instead, it was comforting, to remember that I had a past, before it all went haywire.
Playing the game reminded me that I was normal, at one time.
Maybe I can be normal again? I thought, though I severely doubted it. I wasn’t the kind of person to be normal; at least, not anymore.
Although, playing the game with Carrie and allowing myself to let go, even for that small amount of time, was freeing. It made me feel revitalized and helped me find a sense of purpose, though I was certain it wouldn’t last.
The game was fun, and the company was even better.
When it was over, the two of us settled back in bed together, comforted by the feel of one another.
By this point, we were both tired. Even though it was still only early-evening, I could tell that Carrie had over-extended herself and therefore, I urged her to rest.
She cuddled up next to me and even as she was trying to argue against her exhaustion, she fell into an all-consuming slumber.
I knew the moment that she fell asleep, because of the small amount of weight that was pressed against me. Her soft breathing hit my chest and her arms searched for me, ensuring that I was as close to her as she could possibly get.
I could feel her in my arms, snuggled next to me, with her head on my shoulder and her hair all around me.
Each breath I took, awarded me a whiff of her sweet, alluring scent. I turned my head and watched her sleep for a while. I felt a sense of contentment that I didn’t think existed anymore; at least not for me.
At first, despite my exhaustion, I didn’t want to fall asleep, because that would mean an end to this day, which had turned out to be pretty damn awesome.
However, as time passed, and my thoughts lead deeper into the recesses of my own, dark and disturbed mind, I started to feel guilty for succumbing.
Although, it was a strange kind of guilt that still left me wishing there was more. I wasn’t sure what to do with this information though, since I really had no use for it.
I had always known that it wouldn’t last, hence not wanting to go to sleep. Yet, despite the growing gnawing guilt, I also felt intensely satisfied. I couldn’t remember the last time lovemaking hadn’t left me wishing there was more.
However, more than simply satisfying, this was amazing. Perhaps it was because I hadn’t had any in such a long time, but I had never remembered it being such an experience.
Every part of me felt alive. I felt refreshed and eager. It was almost as though Carrie had breathed new life into me.
For the first time, I was rejuvenated an
d excited about life. Possibilities that I never thought I would care enough to contemplate now seemed possible, even achievable.
However, I knew that one wonderful experience wasn’t enough evidence from which to base an entire life, but it was far more encouragement than I had in a long time and I was going to use it to the fullest.
I gazed down at Cassie, who was asleep next to me. She was wrapped up tightly, both in blankets and my embrace. I watched her chest rise and lower as the movement coincided with her breathing. She seemed entirely content. I hoped that somehow, this had provided her with the peace of mind she needed to enjoy a good night’s rest. I knew she needed it, after everything she had been through.
I closed my eyes, wishing that I could go to sleep.
However, as excited as I was to feel a certain sense of accomplishment, in having successfully given myself to Carrie, the sense of betrayal I felt had only worsened.
For as positive and excited as I was, the insults of my own mind plagued the moment, that was supposed to be peaceful.
I wasn’t sure if I thought going through with the act of lovemaking would help me put the past behind me, breaking the haze of shame that I felt, or if I simply hoped it would. However, I was severely disappointed that nothing of the sort had happened.
Although, for as excited as I was, the sense of treachery I felt I was committing made my stomach churn. I felt sick and disgusted with myself.
How could you do this? I thought, though I knew there was no one I had to answer anymore. Yet, old wounds are the hardest to heal, I suppose.
Trying to ignore the feelings that plagued me, I tried to force sleep upon myself, but that was an unsuccessful endeavor.
So, eventually, I wiggled myself out of the bed, deciding to go for a walk in an effort to clear my head.
When I got up, Jake’s head rose from underneath the covers at our feet, but when he realized that it was only me, he grumbled, huffed, and returned to sleep.
I left Jake there to guard Carrie and Jake didn’t seem to mind.
I quietly exited the cabin and drew in a deep breath of fresh air. I wished for my head to clear, at least minimally, with the breath, but instead, it resorted back to a hazed, worried annoyance as soon as I released the chilly air from my lungs.
I grumbled under my breath and walked out of the clearing, into the woods that have now become the most familiar home I had.
I was comfortable here, but there was a whole world out there that at one time, I wanted to explore.
For the past few years, I couldn’t care less about anything other than my privacy, but the vast mountain now, started to seem a little small.
Am I trying to give myself an excuse to run, or break free? I thought, quickly deciding that I wasn’t trying to get away from Carrie.
In fact, I was trying to find a way to keep her.
I knew that if I was to stay up here, refusing to become part of society, a normal life would never be possible.
So, I needed to give myself a reason to leave, a reason to be normal again, without doing it strictly for Carrie.
If I was going to leave, I needed to ensure that even if things didn’t work out with Carrie, I wouldn’t resort to cutting myself off from humanity. Especially since, I knew I wouldn’t be able to come out here again. There would be too many memories and thus, it would be worse than staying in society.
Contemplating the events and actions taken throughout the past few days, I focused on the escalation. It had felt so right, so natural. It still did.
There was no doubt in my mind that I was more attracted to her now, than I was before we had made love.
I would do anything to be able to give her the chance I knew she deserved…but I also knew that I was getting ahead of myself.
I was certain that thinking this way would only give me false hope. I didn’t want to be up here in the mountains, away from everyone. I wished I felt differently about humanity. I wished I had the ability to forgive and to let go of the past but the fact that I still felt guilty, even though there was nothing to feel bad about was proof that I was incapable of becoming that person.
I couldn’t forgive, and I couldn’t forget. I had made my decision, and apparently, against my wishes and willingness to try, I was unable to commit to attempting to have a normal life ever again.
Why are you sabotaging what is probably your last chance at happiness? I thought, angrily as I pushed my way through the bushes. The physical attempt to relieve the stress wasn’t working. The movement only made me more aggravated and the inconsistency of my racing thoughts was maddening.
One minute, I wanted to figure out how to leave this mountain and try to rebuild my life, hopefully with Carrie by my side but the next, I was giving myself a million reasons why I should stay put.
I couldn’t make up my mind and all I wanted to do was get back to the cabin and go to sleep.
Usually, sex was good for that, but I supposed the guilt counteracted any release of tension the lovemaking had created; resulting in a clusterfuck of doubt, indecision, and confusion.
I certainly didn’t want to feel guilty, especially when there was nothing I could do about it. I had no one to forgive me or hate me for what I’ve done. There was no one that I had in my life that was worthy of judging me, or even forgiving me, because I hadn’t actually done anything wrong. Yet, my conscious seemed to think I had.
I walked around, mostly in a wide circle for about an hour, before I decided that I should return to the cabin.
While I didn’t want to go back, the longer I was out, the more stressed I became about something happening while I was away.
I tried to convince myself that Jake was there, and everything would be fine, but the anxiety I felt eventually got the better of me.
When I returned, I was surprised to find Carrie was awake.
“Hi,” she grinned, her eyes gazing at me amorously, “I hope you don’t mind. I figured I would try to actually walk around a little, but I got tired.”
Instead of sitting in the bed, she was now sitting in my chair. I was pleased to see that she had prepared tea for herself.
“No, it’s fine. Great, actually. I’m glad to see you’re able to get up and get around. How’s your ankle?” As I spoke, my eyes lowered to her leg, where I saw a clear view of her ankle.
“It’s good! You did a great job patching me up,” she exclaimed. “The only reason I had to stop was because I was tired. It didn’t have anything to do with my leg…Also, my tea was done.”
Playfully, she held up the mug and grinned widely.
In that snapshot of her, glowing with post-lovemaking excitement, sitting in my chair, hoisting up a mug, from tea she had figured out how to make herself in my quaint kitchen, Cassie looked perfectly at home.
“That’s good. I know it’s small, but you are welcome wherever you want to go,” I answered her, more to get my mind off the image that I had gotten of her, of what could possibly be the start of us, if I wasn’t so damn stubborn. “My chair, your chair. My tea, your tea.”
“Do you want some?” Cassie asked quickly, as though she felt guilty for not offering earlier.
I shook my head, “No, I’m fine, thanks.”
She grinned at me and took a sip of her tea, pointedly settling deeper into my chair.
“I get why you always sit in this chair. It’s really comfortable,” she replied playfully.
“Yeah, well, when comfort is all you have…” I grumbled, realizing that I absolutely hated the feeling of contentment the sight awarded me.
Chapter 11: Carrie
When I awoke to the silent, empty cabin, save for Jake, who was curled up at my feet, still taking up nearly half the bed, I wasn’t the least bit afraid.
Strangely enough, waking up in the cabin gave me a greater sense of comfort than waking up in my apartment ever did; even with the looming threat of a potential killer.
This was strange to me, because I thought I must be crazy. The idea that I was
in more danger than ever but felt safer than ever didn’t make sense.
I was almost bothered by the fact that I couldn’t find much fear in being alone there.
Did my mind just give up? I wondered, though I knew that wasn’t the case. I was well aware of my surroundings and the potential danger I was in, but strangely enough, I trusted both Johnathan and Jake.
Even though Johnathan had left, presumably to think, even though I was angry with him, I knew that he would never truly leave me. Plus, Jake was here. I knew he would protect me in Johnathan’s absence.
Simply the size of the massive dog, I presumed, would discourage almost anyone.
Especially that dipshit guide, I thought, strangely unafraid of him. Perhaps I felt shielded by the massive dog that slept at my feet, or the fact that despite our argument, I was content with the day Johnathan and I had shared.
Still, I wasn’t sure why I wasn’t freaking out, being that a dog can only protect me from so much.
However, I found a strange sense of contentment, in being alone in the cabin.
