The Way Out

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The steady glow illuminated the leaves and branches that had encroached after years of neglect. Though the candle shown brightly, nothing could be seen through the cold, murky glass when peering in. It was as if the light was swallowed up the second it left the flame. Nonetheless, the radiance that spilled out into the forest beckoned out to anyone that would answer its call. Then, seemingly right on time, she emerged from the decaying brush and ancient trees. Hikers in this area were few these days, and though the cabin stood in a state beyond repair, the flame greeted her almost like a pet would its master, warm and welcoming. After treading through rain and chill, shelter in any form was too inviting to pass up. The sun had retired, and the sounds of the night had come alive. Wearily, she knocked on the door. No answer. Perhaps the owner was out, or, judging by the state of this place, maybe they were long gone. But who lit the candle? Maybe another hiker had passed through and had absent-mindedly left it burning. She tried the door, which gave a crack and groaned as it stubbornly opened. One large room appeared before her as the light flooded across the floor. A small table, a bed, and a worn wooden chair were illuminated not only by the candle, but a crackling fireplace as well. Though fairly primitive, it seemed to be in decent condition. Not even a layer of dust had settled since the last occupants had gone. Confused yet exhausted, she made the decision to attempt to sleep. Hoping to avoid a Goldie Locks situation, she locked the door thinking that anyone returning home would wake her upon entry. At least then, she could explain herself and her late-night visit. The bed was small and the frame rickety, but it offered more comfort than the floor of the forest, and she was quickly dozing before more thoughts could intrude.

Warmth. That's all she felt when she came to. Beams of sun now lit the room from the few dirty windows, making the cabin feel almost cozy. After a slow stretch, she rose to sit and have a look around the room. The fire in the hearth had survived the night somehow, and the candle still stood in the window with a steady flame. This was odd, she thought, that the taper still had all of its length and the fire had not been fed, but still burned. Even more odd was the food spread out upon the small table. Not quite a feast, but a quaint bounty consisting of fruit, cheese, and bread with a tall glass of clear, crisp water sitting beside it. How? Who? She was confused by this and the fact that no sound had awoken her, and no other evidence of entry was present. She called out a meek hello, but not a word was returned. Surely, whoever had been staying here had come in during the early hours of the morning and had gone before she had wakened. Maybe they assumed she was tired and famished and had tried to help her before departing. But to where? She stood and walked over to the table. Now closer, she could see that everything was fresh. She sat and indulged herself until content. After finishing and sitting for a bit, she gathered her pack and decided to set off. Though the cabin wasn't dark or eerie in this light, a feeling of unease had crept in, and she was ready to move on. Looking back over her shoulder, she thought she should put out the fire and candle but didn't feel that it was her place to disturb what was already there before her. She opened the door to…darkness? Cold, bleak, darkness. She blinked. She leaned back into the cabin and glanced toward a window. Warm, glowing sunlight still poured in, and the room was bright and peaceful. The canopy of trees was dense but was not enough to swallow all light on the outside. It didn't make sense. Nothing this morning made sense. She took a few steps forward taking in her surroundings or lack thereof. Turning around to face the cabin, only a door could be seen in the deep blackness. Her heart began to race, and warm tingling sensation spread throughout her body. Panicking, she rushed back through the door, back to the comfort of the cabin. Her feet landed firmly on the almond-colored floorboards, and there she stood, unsure of her next move. She peeked over her shoulder, through the gaping hole of a doorway. Turning, she slammed the door shut, pressing against it with both hands as if a monster lied on the other side, waiting to break through. She walked over to the window that housed the candle and stared outside. It was blindingly bright, but she could make out the huge trees and the forest floor blanketed in crisp, dry leaves. If this was a dream, it needed to end. She looked down at the food still sitting on the table and realized it looked untouched despite her having a fair amount not even an hour before. The water glass was filled to the brim, sparkling in the sunlight. It was as if two worlds existed and that door was the divider, the barrier between the light and the dark. Quickly moving, she walked over to the door again and swung it open. Still dark. She closed it, not sure what she was expecting. Thinking that if she crept up and caught it by surprise, she'd be able to escape back into reality. Minutes trickled by slowly as she paced back and forth, strolling to and from the window to the bed, to the fire. The fire. She stopped and gazed mindlessly into the orange flames. It burned and burned to no end. How much time had gone by? Hours it seemed, but the light continued to stream in, and the candle continued to burn. Defeated and confused, she lied down on the creaky little bed and closed her eyes, hoping to wake from this bizarre dream.

She came to and glanced around at the now too familiar walls of the cabin, her prison. She brought her legs over the edge of the bed and placed her feet onto the floor and stood. Slowly, she made her way over to the door and placed her hand gently on the handle. Gripping it for a second, she turned the knob, and the door creaked open. Darkness. Her eyes begin to sting and hot water flowed from them, running down her cheeks. For a moment, she lost her composure and let herself breakdown. Days ago, she was longing to escape everything she knew, the mundane ins and outs of the never-ending cycle that was her life. Now here she was. She felt stuck then, she felt stuck now. The candle had called to her. It beckoned for her to come feel its warmth and eat its bread. It wanted her, and it had her. The candle. She walked over to it. Perhaps it was more than a beacon for weary travelers. If she smothered that daunting flame, would she be free to go? Reaching her hand forward, she snuffed out its light. Again, darkness overtook the cabin. The window was black with the smallest glimmer of light shining in from the moon that broke through the trees. She turned to look around, realizing that with the flame’s last breath, the fire in the hearth had died as well. Her eyes watered again, not from sadness this time, but from the foul, sour stench that filled the air. She looked down at the table. The once delectable food sat there now decaying under a layer of mold and rot. Now, wanting to escape more than ever, she rushed to the door and leapt through the doorway without a second thought. Into nothingness. She felt the crushing weight of anxiety crash down upon her. Arms outstretched, she took a few steps forward and felt around for something tangible. A branch, a bush, anything but this emptiness. The air was heavy, but still, there was nothing but darkness. She made her way back to the putrid smell of her former haven. Again, she burst through the door and slumped down onto the cold floor. She looked over at the candle whose silhouette she could barely make out in the dim moonlight. The light had shone so brightly and burned so surely. She slung her pack around into her lap and unzipped the small outer pocket. In a small plastic bag was her box of matches. She pulled her shirt over her nose and walked over to reignite the flame she had smothered. The matches had been kept safe and dry, and lit with one quick strike. She married flame to wick, and the room came back to life. The fireplace roared, and the terrible stench retreated. She reached for the candleholder with a shaking hand and took it away from its place on the sill. Making her way to the door, she was again unsure of what waited on the other side. She opened it slowly with eyes closed tightly. Daylight. The burning, watering eyes returned along with a choking gasp of relief. She swallowed the thick saliva that flooded her mouth and stepped forward into the beautiful autumn warmth of the forest.

The man stood with his back turned to the base of the rocky footpath. Grey and weathered, much like this wood, he felt at home when hiking. Here he could be alone, taking advantage of the peace and solitude this place brought him. Away from all of the people rushing to get where? Normally a beautiful sight, he stared into the distance, taking in the rocky expanse broken by the monstrous trees that seemed to erupt from the earth. The joy that this place brought him had gone, and the tone had shifted. He wondered how long they would take to arrive, to collect her, the poor young girl whose body lie mangled at the base of the cliff. A paste of dry blood and earth caked her hair and face. Bones splintered from her tender flesh. Rot had already begun to consume her. Would they suspect foul play? Would they suspect him? It was clear to him that she had fallen. Or did she jump? But why would someone so young do such a thing? Surely, she had friends and family that would mourn her. Her parents, what would they think? How would they feel? It wasn't a problem that should concern him, and yet he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and felt the sting of the hot water begin to flow.