The Cabin

I left the cabin for the first time, on my own terms. It did not kick me out, catch fire, or try to harm me in any way. Maria walked me to the door and waved goodbye from the window. We had sat together for hours discussing our life. She wanted to know what happens to us, and why we needed to come back to the cabin and find the artefact. I couldn’t find it in my heart to tell her.

When I returned soon after, the cabin was looking fair. The walls were sturdy, and the roof shone in the dappled light from the trees above. Returning to it felt less daunting than it had previously. Especially with the little Maria running down the path to grab my hand and lead me back to the front door. The noise of the artefact travelled with her with a soft ticking, like she was a clockwork doll. She smiled at me widely, in complete trust.

‘How was I ever this young and innocent?’

“Will you help me?” she asked, continuing to lead me to the cabin.

“With what?”

“I need to fix my bike,” she said matter-of-factly.

‘oh god.’

“Usually my daddy would help me, but I can’t find him.”

There was a beat of silence, and I felt my heart race.

‘Not the bike…’

“There’s something wrong with the wheel,” she continued in earnest.

She led me past the front door of the cabin and around to the back. There, leaning against the wall, was a mint green children’s bicycle. Ivy had wound itself between its wheels, and the seat was crooked.

“See?” she asked, gesturing to the bike with a wide sweep, “broken.”

The sweet ticking of the artefact felt far too loud all of a sudden, and I wrenched my hand back from my younger self.

“Absolutely not!” I shouted, not entirely meaning to.

Little Maria looked flabbergasted, and her eyes welled up with tears.

“I’m sorry, just…no.”

With that, I hastily walked back around the cabin. I was halfway down the pathway when I heard little Maria sobbing. I could not leave her like that, but I also couldn’t set eyes on the bike again, so I chose to walk back into the cabin and sit down on the sofa, my head in my hands.

Little Maria did not know what the bike meant to us yet. How on earth was I supposed to break that news to her?

I looked up with a sigh and was met with the sight of the mantlepiece. The two frames that I had looked at the last time had turned to face outwards. One with little Maria and her best friend on the playground, the other with an adult Maria hugging Colin the Betrayer.

I laughed through my teeth at the thought.

In the middle of the two frames, there was another, its back facing me. It felt as if it was looming over me. I knew it contained a memory I could not face, and my chest felt tight with anxiety at the thought.

“Now we’re both crying!”

A whine broke through my melancholy, sharp and hopeless. Little Maria had made her way into the cabin and stood before me with tears down her cheeks. She was worrying the fabric of her blue dress between her fingers and staring at the floor.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you…”

I felt a lump in my throat at the words.

“You didn’t! It wasn’t you…”

Little Maria hung on my every word. With wide eyes glued to me, she climbed onto the sofa and sat beside me.

“Was it the bike?”

‘Damned thing!’

“Yes, it was the bike.”

I bit my tongue to avoid saying more. Little Maria did not deserve to know why it upset me so much. Goodness knew how I survived it myself at the time.

“Do you not know how to ride one?” Little Maria asked simply, forcing a laugh from my tight throat.

“It’s not that. I have a…bad memory about that bike.”

“Oh, well, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, none of this is.”

The cabin seemed to groan in agreement.

“Then, why do I live here?”

I paused at that. Truthfully, I had been wondering the same thing since I had met her.

“I think… I think it’s something to do with the artefact.”

“Artefact?”

“Yes, it’s something I’ve been sent here to find.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s going to help me in some way, to take it away from the cabin.”

“Oh.”

“Do you want to live here?”

“No. It’s boring, and I was going to cycle away to the seaside,” little Maria said quickly.

“That sounds nice,” I replied, closing my eyes and imagined the waves hitting the shore.

We sat in silence for some time. The ticking of the artefact was our only companion.

“I think I have to do something I don’t want to do,” I stated, eyes closed.

“That’s not fair,” little Maria replied.

“No, it isn’t. But I get the feeling it’s one of those things that must be done in order to move on.”

“Like fixing a bike?”

I laughed at that.

“Yeah, kid, like fixing a bike.”

In a wave of acceptance, I calmly opened my eyes, stood up, took two steps towards the mantle, and picked up the final picture frame.

“Good luck!” little Maria said sweetly.

“Thanks, honey.”

I turned the frame and looked into the picture within it.

It contained two figures: little Maria and a grown man. He had his hand on her shoulder, smiling broadly. A mint green children’s bicycle was slung over his shoulder.

“Be careful Mi!” my father shouted, a laugh in his voice.

I ignored his suggestion and chose instead to pedal faster. The front on my little green bicycle shook with my enthusiasm, bumping over all the rocks in it’s path.

I heard my father’s footsteps jogging alongside me.

“Look at you go, Mi!” he wheezed encouragingly, “you’re a natural, honey!”

I smiled at his words and continued to pedal with all my might. My wild bushel of hair was pinned under a new pink helmet, but the wind was whipping the ends of my hair over my shoulders. The feeling of acceleration was exhilarating! Like running on long long legs.

I heard my father’s wheezing grow quieter as I went, and noticed he had stopped, breathing deeply with his hands on his knees.

“Just circle the field, eh? Then come back to me, honey.” He spoke between huffs.

“See you soon, slowpoke!” I shouted back, eager to cycle and keep the bike upright.

I circled the park field. There were some children playing football to my right, who I made sure to avoid (while secretly hoping they would find my cycling very impressive indeed).

I smiled as I zoomed past several couples holding hands and walking around the park, hoping one day I’d be able to take my hand off of one handlebar to wave at them. Then, I turned to cycle back to my father.

He was a speck in the distance then. I could make out his hunched-over form by his dark blue jacket. He had moved to sit on a wooden bench on the edge of the field and was watching me carefully, I could tell. Dad was always careful.

I felt my breath get laboured and I tensed the muscles in my arms to stop the whole bicycle from tipping over when I turned the handlebars back to him. Cycling was hard.

Soon, I got back into the rhythm, and I was cruising once again. The blue speck in the distance soon grew into the shape of my father, and he stood to greet me, with a noticeable effort.

“Maria! I have never seen such fantastic cycling in my life my dear!”

I laughed at his words, I knew I was very shaky, and far from fantastic.

“Thanks dad, ice cream now?”

“Of course! As all good cyclists need!” he said with a laugh. Then he turned his head to shout across the park, “Are you coming, love?”

My mother, who had been taking pictures the whole day, peeked out from behind her camera and smiled at us both.

“For ice cream? Always!”

Coming out of the memory felt calmer than the previous times. I was gently set down on the sofa, still clutching the picture frame in my arms.

The cabin now looked like a haven. The sofa had a soft woollen throw across it, and little Maria had snuggled up, surrounded by plush cushions. She looked a little bit like a hamster in a den.

Soft material hung from the ceiling in ribbons, and all number of crafts turned softly toward me. Dreamcatchers, paper flowers, and stained glass caught the soft sunlight that shone through the now crystal clear windows. I had a calm smile on my face.

“That wasn’t a bad memory…” little Maria said, with a cautious tone, staring at my expression.

“No, honey, no, it wasn’t.”

We sat in silence for a while. Little Maria fiddled with the blanket underneath her, and I stared into the cabin’s hearth. It was still black and cold, but it did not feel how it had when I first arrived. It was lighter.

The ticking of the artefact was also lighter, sounding then like a watch pressed against my ear.

“Why did it show you that?” little Maria asked.

“Because I had to face it,” I answered, finally feeling that I understood why the cabin was there. “Everything here, I had to face. I left it for too long. Heartbreak festers in the soul.”

“That memory didn’t look heartbreaking.”

“It is to me.”

“Why?”

I sighed and stared into little Maria’s earnest little eyes.

“He left us, not long after that, and I never rode a bike again.”

“Left?”

“No, not left. He was taken away.”

“Where?”

I chuckled a little at that.

“I don’t know, honey.”

“Why?”

“His body was unwell.”

“How?”

“He had bad cells in his lungs.”

“That’s not fair.” Little Maria stated simply.

“No, no it wasn’t fair at all. He wanted to stay, and I wished he could so badly but…”

I noticed then I was gasping for breath, tears coming hot and fast down my face. Little Maria continued to stare at me, wide-eyed.

“I used to think… that it was me! That I wasn’t trying hard enough, or… or being good enough…”

I grabbed a cushion and buried my face into it.

I cried harder than I had ever cried, even at my father’s funeral. I hiccupped and coughed through the outpour and sobbed as loud as I could shout. I felt a little hand on my shoulder, and another clumsily patting the top of my head.

“It's just so unfair!” I wailed miserably, muffled by the cushion.

Little Maria then tried to wrap her short arms around me. At the awkward angle, I ended up in the softest, sweetest headlock. I laughed at the gesture, slightly hysterically.

“I just wish we had more…more…”

Little Maria hugged me tighter, and I felt something dig into the side of my head. The ticking noise grew louder. I drew back and turned to face her.

A pocket watch hung around little Maria’s neck. It shone in gold and was looped into a necklace chain.

“…time.” I finished, staring at what I was now sure was the artefact.

Little Maria tried to look down at her own neck.

“We found it!” She said in astonishment.

“What does it do?” I asked, confused.

“It means I get to leave!” she replied in unfiltered delight.

“Oh,” I said, unsure if I was happy or sad for her.

“I’m not scared!” little Maria said bravely. “I’m going to fix my bike and go to the seaside!”

“Good,” I replied simply, remembering the kite I had seen when I first arrived at the cabin.

We sat for a while. The air in the cabin was clean, fresh and light; it was refreshing just to breathe again.

“Here,” little Maria said a little sadly, holding out the pocket watch to me by its chain.

“Don’t you want me to stay for a bit longer? Help you with the bike?”

“Would you?” little Maria asked in disbelief, as if she had expected me to grab it and run.

“Of course, honey.”

I followed my little self outside on slow bones. Everything ached in its newness. A gentle sunlight shone on us as I unpicked the ivy from the bicycle’s front wheel and unscrewed the seat. I bent the bar it sat on back into place and secured it back into place. Little Maria marvelled at my strength and cleverness and expressed a hope to grow up that strong someday.

“Keep cycling and you will,” I encouraged gently. I had always regretted giving it up.

Maria was testing the bike, the handlebars wobbling in her little hands. She went around the cabin in circles; her tongue stuck out in concentration. I noted that the ground around the cabin was smoother than before, and the grass and ivy appeared to have retreated by a few meters.

Soon, the sun had begun to shine low through the tree trunks, casting long shadows and calling our pleasant day to an end. My heart began to smart at the thought.

“It’s time for you to go, isn’t it?” I asked little Maria.

“Yep! I’m going to build the best sandcastle!”

“Good!” I smiled, tears returning.

“Will you be back?” she asked me, reaching behind her neck to unclasp the pocket watch.

“I will, to keep the cabin in good shape.”

“Good.” She replied simply, and she held the artefact up for me to take.

When I curled my fingers around the cool, smooth metal, I felt a rush of alignment in my heart. It left my head spinning with energy. I was 'on my own time' again.

Little Maria, too, looked excited. The artefact had been her burden for too long; she had been stuck in the cabin, in time, for so long. My heart ached for her displacement.

“Goodbye Maria,” I said, smiling through tears.

“Bye Maria!” She shouted back cheerfully, already mounting her bicycle.

I watched her cycle around the side of the cabin, up the cobbled path, and away behind some trees. Her blue dress waved in the wind, and her wild curls were the last I saw of her.

I took a deep breath and turned back to face the cabin. Gently, I closed the front door and patted the strong wood it was made of.

“See you soon, old thing.”

I walked away happily, clasping the artefact around my neck. I would be back again soon, maybe I’d light a fire in that hearth and do some knitting next time…that would be nice.

A/N: And here endeth the cabin. Thank you to everyone who has read it!

For anyone curious, the cabin represents Maria's mental health, the artifact is a reclaimation of her autonomy, and the pictureframes are past heartbreaks that led her to lose it. I hope that makes sense but feel free to ask questions in the comments!

I have loved writing this, but I confess I wanted to get onto some Halloween writing, so I really threw myself into it for a week or two!

I am sending good writing and reading vibes to you all today <3

-TWW