After the Cabin

by Amy Cross

“It's like the drummer's playing a completely different song,” Matt says with a smile, leaning toward me as we sit in a booth. “How the hell do people like that end up getting paid to play shows?”

  “They're not paid,” Karen mutters. “They pay for the privilege. It's basically the musical equivalent of a pyramid scheme.”

  “That explains a lot,” he continues, keeping his eyes fixed on me. “So Anna, are you new around here?”

  “Not really,” I reply, forcing a smile. I can see Karen keeping a watchful eye on me, waiting to jump in if I need help. “I've just been away for a while.”

  “Cool. Like, at uni?”

  “Just doing some other stuff.” Damn it, why didn't I anticipate these questions and come up with better answers? “I'm back now, though,” I add. “A lot's changed while I've been away.” I pause, trying to think of something else to say. “I'm kind of looking for new stuff to do,” I tell him. “I need to get back into the scene.”

  When I turn to Karen, I can see the smirk on her features. She gives me a wink, but I turn back to Matt and find that he still seems focused on me, to the extent that he's ignoring the other people he came with.

  “So what do you like doing?” he asks, leaning closer so I can hear him better. “Apart from coming out to listen while chronically poor so-called musicians attempt to torture people from the stage, obviously.”

  I flinch slightly at the description, but I quickly tell myself not to be so sensitive.

  “I'm just getting used to being out in town again,” I tell him, before realizing that the padding on the left side of my bra is slipping slightly. I try to straighten it with my arm, but I think it needs proper attention. “A lot of things are the same, but it's also kind of different.”

  “Totally,” he replies. “There are some good places if you know where to look, though.”

  “I just need to find them,” I tell him, before realizing that he's glancing at my chest. Looking down, I realize that my padded bra is totally out of whack, making my left breast seem to sag to my waist. “And now I need to go to the little girls' room,” I add, getting to my feet as I feel a shudder of embarrassment. “Back in a moment.”

  “You want me to come?” Karen asks.

  “No, I'll be fine.”

  “Just so you know...” She pulls me closer and lowers her voice so Matt can't hear. “I think he likes you.”

  “All I want right now are friends,” I tell her.

  Slipping through the crowd, I reach up and check my chest, and sure enough I'm extremely asymmetrical right now. God knows what Matt thought, but I'm sure he'd already clocked some of the scars on my face and neck anyway. When I get to the bathroom I'm relieved to see that there's no-one else here. Heading to the mirror, I pull my top up and make a quick adjustment so that the padding is back in place, and when I pull my top down again I actually look pretty normal. After a moment, however, I realize that I'm being way too vain, so I fumble under my shirt and finally pull the bra out. I should just be proud of my body, but at the same time, I don't really want to explain, so... Sighing, I start putting the bra back on. I just need to make a goddamn decision, there's no reason to be nervous or -

  And then I see her.

  Jennifer is standing right behind me, staring at my reflection with those same dark eyes that I remember from the cabin.

  I take a deep breath, telling myself that this is just a brief illusion, a hiccup in my perceptions, but she hasn't faded away yet. I blink a couple of times, hoping to wipe her from sight, but she's still there. Loud music is still pounding through the walls from the main part of the bar, but everything else seems so far away right now. Even though I know I shouldn't, I finally turn to face her.

  She's still staring at me, but after a moment she tilts her head slightly.

  “You're not real,” I say firmly. “You're just not!”

  A faint smile spreads across her lips.

  “I'm not crazy,” I continue, “and there is no way you...”

  I pause, feeling a shiver running through my chest as she continues to stare at me.

  “You're not really here,” I tell her, keeping my eyes fixed on her and trying to use sheer willpower to make her disappear. “I know that. I know you died at the cabin, and I also know that I can expect to sometimes have little moments like this, but I will not be scared! I refuse!” I pause for a moment before taking a step closer, hoping to force her to disappear. Still, she persists. “You're not real,” I continue. “I refuse to let you into my head.”

  “Tell yourself that, bitch,” she replies suddenly, her voice filled with hatred. “Anything that gets you through the night.”

  “I shouldn't have come here tonight,” I whisper, as the music gets louder and faster. “I wasn't ready for this.”

  “What are you ready for?” she asks. “Maybe to admit the truth?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The truth about what you did at the cabin.”

  “Me?” I feel a rash of panic rising through my chest. “I didn't do anything at the cabin! It was you!”

  She smiles. “You know, I almost think you believe that.”

  I want to tell her to go to hell, but the panic is too much now and I can't even bear to look at her. Turning, I hurry to the door just as another girl comes stumbling through and clatters into me.

  “Do you see her?” I ask, grabbing the girl's arm and turning. Jennifer is still watching me, so I point toward her. “Just tell me if you see someone standing there. You don't, do you? There's no-one, just tell me there's no-one standing by the first cubicle. I know this sounds crazy, but just tell me!”

  Jennifer raises her right hand and gives me a little wave.

  The other girl pulls away and heads to the sink. “What are you on about?” she stammers. “There's no-one there. Nutter.” With that, she veers into one of the cubicles and slams the door shut.

  “You're not real,” I tell Jennifer again, backing toward the door, “and I won't let myself start imagining you. There is no way you're real.”

  Turning, I push the door open and head back out into the crowd. I spot Karen and Matt over by the bar, so I fight my way through until I reach them. I can't help glancing over my shoulder, just in case my addled brain decides to maintain the image of Jennifer, but I feel a flash of relief as I realize that she's nowhere to be seen. With each passing second, I feel more and more certain that I just had a brief misfire somewhere in my head. I only hope that I don't look completely spooked and fried.

  “Are you okay?” Karen asks, nudging my arm.

  When I turn to her, I can see genuine concern in her eyes.

  “Fine,” I reply, forcing a smile. “I just had to fix a few things.” I wait for her to reply, but after a moment I realize that she's staring at me with a puzzled expression, and when I turn to Matt I can see a hint of shock in his eyes. “What?” I ask, trying not to get paranoid. I force a fake laugh, but I immediately realize how bad it sounds so I stop. “Why are you guys looking at me like that?” I look down at my chest, but my bra is still in place.

  “Honey...” Karen grabs my arm and pulls me aside. “Maybe now isn't the best time.”

  “For what?”

  I wait for her to explain.

  “What?” I hiss.

  “Can you just...” She pauses. “Anna, can you just put your nose back on?”

  “My nose?” Reaching up, I find to my horror that the prosthetic section is gone, and when I turn and look at the mirror behind the bar I see myself staring back with two holes where the fake nose should be. For a fraction of a second, it's like seeing a skull in the club's flashing lights.

  “I know you think it's funny,” Karen continues, “and in a way it is, but honey, maybe this isn't exactly the right -”

  “It's not funny,” I stammer, looking back out at the crowd. A couple of girls nearby are staring at me as if I'm some kind of freak, but I have no idea when my prosthesis fell off. “I have to find it,” I whisp
er, forcing my way back through the swarm of dancers, while looking down at the floor in the hope that I might spot my nose somewhere. Trying not to panic, I nevertheless feel increasingly desperate as I get to the bathroom door and push it open, figuring that it has to be over by the sink. How could I not have noticed it falling off?

  “Woah!” a drunk girl shouts as soon as she sees me. “Hey there, Skeletor!” She turns and waves at some other girls. “Stacy! Lauren! Come and look at this!”

  Pushing past her, I look around the bathroom for some sign of my nose, but it's nowhere to be seen. When I look back over toward the door, I find that a few more girls are watching me now, as if I'm some kind of freak. They all have nervous smiles, and after a moment one of them pulls a phone from her bag and takes a photo of me, before mouthing the word 'Sorry' and then hurrying out. Even as the door swings shut, I can see her already typing furiously, probably sending the picture to her friends. Outside, the band's music is getting even louder and faster.

  “Oh my God,” one of the other girls says finally, “I think I've heard of you. Are you that girl who got -”

  Stumbling past them, I push my way back out into the main part of the bar. Karen comes running toward me, trying to help, but I slip past her and force my way through the crowd, trying to reach the exit. There's a sea of faces all around me, and while most of them are watching the band, one or two are looking straight at me and I can see the horror in their eyes. I reach up and cover my nose with my left hand, but I feel as if everyone has already worked out who I am. By the time I get to the stairs and race up toward the exit, my heart is pounding and I start stumbling, grazing my knee in the process.

  “Anna!” a voice shouts in the distance.

  When I reach the exit, I stagger out into the dark street, where a few people are standing around with cigarettes. I don't wait to see if they look at me; instead, I turn and hurry away, desperate to get home where no-one can see my face.

  “Anna!” Karen shouts, but I quickly slip out of sight around the next corner.

  I wait a moment and she calls again, and I realize with relief that she didn't see which way I came. Turning, I hurry along the street and then break into a run.

  “Anna! Come back!”

  ***

  If I'd walked through the center of town, I'd have been home by now. However, I'd also have faced drunken crowds spilling out of other bars and clubs, so I've taken the long route, steering clear of anywhere that might be even remotely busy. The few times I've heard someone nearby, I've ducked down behind a car and waited for them to move on. Now, out alone near the old train station, I'm wandering along a deserted path and I still have a hand covering my nose, just in case I happen to bump into anyone.

  At least once a minute, I glance over my shoulder, terrified in case I have another vision of Jennifer.

  “Jesus Christ, woman!” Joe's voice shouts in my head, and a moment later I remember the pain of a pair of scissors slicing into my thigh. “Do you really think that was a smart move? Go on, do it again. Bite me, bitch, and see what I do next.”

  Sniffing back tears, I reach the steps that lead up to the walkway that crosses high above the tracks. A solitary orange street-lamp lights the scene, but as I make my way up the steps I'm soon back in darkness again. It's hard to believe that I was stupid enough to come out tonight. I knew it was too soon, I knew I was pushing myself, but I honestly thought I'd battle through and be okay. Now, however, I'm starting to realize that I was a complete idiot. As I hear sirens in the distance and the boom of jets overhead, I'm finally forced to accept that I'm not ready to dive back into the world. I still don't accept that I'm fragile, but I have to admit that I'm not too sturdy, either

  “The more you fight back,” Joe's voice continues, echoing from that night at the cabin three years ago, “the more the people watching this video are gonna get off on what they're seeing.”

  “Shut up!” I hiss, shuffling along the narrow metal walkway.

  “You're fighting all the way,” Joe's voice says, “and that's what people want to see. Your video's gonna be ten times as popular as hers once it hits the dark web. Hell, it's gonna be -”

  “Shut up!” I shout, stopping and turning, almost as if for a moment I expect Joe to be standing right behind me. There's no sign of him, of course, but as I hear a train rumbling toward the walkway I'm convinced that at any moment Joe will speak to me again. These memories seem to be rushing out more and more, as if my brain takes great delight in regurgitating every last detail of what happened in the cabin. “The video doesn't even exist anymore,” I stammer, to remind myself. “It was destroyed in the fire.”

  “Talking to yourself?”

  I freeze.

  It can't be.

  Not again.

  “Hey,” she continues. “Why don't you just jump?”

  Turning slowly, I see Jennifer standing a few meters away, staring at me with those same calm, impassive eyes that I remember from the cabin's basement.

  I take a step back.

  “It'd all be over if you jumped,” she points out. “Instead of a life-time of misery, you'd get two or three seconds of blessed relief, and then you'd never have to feel anything ever again. Compared to that, the actual moment of pain would be just... nothing.”

  Looking down at the tracks, I see that another train is speeding this way. Jennifer's right, I could clamber over the side and jump down, and there's no way I'd survive. I considered suicide at the hospital, of course, but I was never brave enough, and I kept telling myself that I had to focus on getting better. Everyone said I was strong but fragile, and I felt pressure to prove that I could bounce back and live a normal life again. I guess that's why I made the dumb decision to come out tonight, but...

  The train thunders past just a few meters beneath my feet, causing the entire metal walkway to rattle and shake for a few seconds.

  “Pity,” Jennifer says calmly, “but there'll be another one along soon.”

  Turning to her, I shake my head.

  “No?” She smiles. “Hey, bitch, where's your nose?”

  “Leave me alone,” I stammer.

  “Why?”

  “Leave me alone!” I shout, taking a step toward her.

  “After what you did to me?” she asks with a frown.

  “What I did to you?” I reply, shivering with shock. “What the hell did I do to you? You're the one who tied me to a chair and... and...”

  “I know,” she says calmly, “I remember. But you're not exactly innocent in all of this, are you? Tell me there's not a part of you that enjoys it. What was your favorite part? The pain? The blood?”

  “Go to hell,” I whisper.

  In the distance, there's the sound of another train approaching.

  “Everyone thinks you're so innocent,” she continues. “Poor Anna, brave Anna, strong Anna. What if they knew the truth? What if they knew what you did after the cabin burned down?”

  “You're just in my mind,” I tell her.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I saw you die!”

  She smiles again. “No-one's disputing that.”

  For a fraction of a second, I remember the moment when Jennifer fell to the floor in the dark kitchen, with two knives embedded in her back and poking out through her chest. I remember the look of shock in her eyes, and her pained gasps as she tried to deny what was happening.

  “What's wrong?” she asks, as the next train roars under the walkway, causing the entire structure to shudder. “There goes another. You've had two chances to kill yourself now, two trains, and you let them both go. You could be in peace by now, but you chose to still be here. How long have you been out of hospital? Is it even ten hours yet? And already you've had half a dozen hallucinations, you've lost your nose, and now you're shivering up here while I taunt you. Think of all the nights you've got ahead of you, Anna. What if they're all like this? What if you never get better?”

  “You're not real,” I whisper, before closing my eye
s tight shut. I feel as if I'm on the very edge of tipping into an abyss, and I need to push this hallucination away before it takes over my entire soul. “You're not real, you can't be real. I'm not even going to look at you! When I open my eyes, you'll be gone!”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes!”

  I wait.

  Silence.

  After a few seconds, I hear the sound of another train approaching.

  I should open my eyes, but I'm scared that she'll still be here.

  Instead, I hold my breath, trying to calm my thoughts. If I just force myself to be stronger, I won't have these hallucinations. It's all about mind control, and discipline, and keeping hold of my sanity. I've told myself over and over that I won't let my experience in the cabin change me, and now I need to prove that those words mean something. If I can push her away tonight, I'll know that I can -

  “What's the matter?” her voice asks suddenly. “Don't believe in ghosts?”

  Opening my eyes, I find that she's even closer now, leaning into my face.

  Filled with fear, I turn and see the lights of another train getting closer. This time it's not a passenger train, it's one of those huge, long cargo transports. Barely even able to think properly, I put my hands on the cold handrail and look down, seeing the tracks far below and the metal starting to shine brighter and brighter as the train's lights approach. All around me, the walkway is starting to shudder.

  “Do it!” Jennifer hisses.

  I try to imagine how it'd feel if I jumped down and the train hit me. There'd be pain, but it'd be brief, maybe half a second at most before my body burst in a shower of blood and bone, and then there'd be no more pain ever again. My mother would be distraught, and Karen too, but they'd just have to cope. At least I wouldn't have to live with Jennifer's voice constantly following me. I'd be free.

  “Do it!” Jennifer shouts.

  As the train rushes closer, I start to climb over the side.

  “Do it!”

  Four

  The train flashes beneath the walkway, roaring along the tracks with furious power until suddenly it's gone and the tracks are empty again. Far below, the rails are still humming slightly, but it's as if a brief storm has finally passed.