Pink Bows

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The soft light caught the corner of my eye as I was sitting in the kitchen finishing summer homework. At first, I thought it was a trick, it seemed like my lack of sleep had caught up to me. Mr. Johnson, the man I babysit for, had told me the cabin behind this house had been uninhabited for years, just some old real estate lying on the edge of the woods that not a single person in this small town would buy. I do not blame them, the wooden exterior had appeared to be rotted by the Carolinian dew over the years and there seems to be no electricity. Not even my penniless self would buy it. I looked back to my work and continued to slowly scribble notes down with my ink-stained hands as I felt my head grow so heavy that I had to use one arm to hold it up. My hand slips back and makes its way through my unwashed hair, I feel the grease slip through my fingers and the split ends prickle my palm. I would like to do my work any other time besides whatever hour of the night it is, but between waitressing during the day and babysitting at night, my only time to study is once the blue summer sky falls to charcoal and the kids are tucked in bed.

I lay my head down on the table and look longingly over to the coffee maker and imagine how bittersweet it will taste. It may heighten my anxiety, but at least I would be functional. I managed to find the motivation to get up, falling face-first to the floor in the process, but I still grab on to a chair and yank myself up. The pot starts gurgling steaming water, I reach for a mug, but in the corner of my eye, I see a flicker of light out the window. It almost looks like that candle I imagined earlier, but that’s impossible, right? Maybe Mr. Johnson and his wife came home early from their work dinner and it was just the car headlights and my mind playing tricks. No, then all the windows would be lit up, not just the one on the second floor. I stared at it and was certain it was a dancing flame. There was something alluring about the flame. It almost made me want to walk to the cabin and sit there next to it while the summer heat licks at my neck.

But I snapped out of it and my own flame ignited in my chest, maybe one of the kids snuck out when I was dozing off. I remember James, the oldest, begging earlier to explore the cabin and search for ghosts.

I slam the cabinet door and rush up the carpeted stairs, ignoring my heart pounding with worry. As I jerked the nob open and stepped into his room, I saw his sleeping face cuddled into his football blanket, illuminated by the tv he forgot to turn off. Sighing, I turned and on my way out I winced in pain as I stepped on a lego. I wobbled on my wounded foot down the hallway to go check on the little brother, Joey. Once again relief washed over me as I saw him clinging to a stuffed dogs in their little bed. Perhaps, it was just a bunch of teenagers who needed a place to hangout.

I sat back down on that kitchen stool and hunched my back over my readings and got to work. However, I did not make it very far.

SLAM

I felt my soul fly out of my body, and once again, clumsily fell out of my chair. I stood up and turned my head to peer outside, where the noise seemed to have originated from. I look towards the abandoned cabin through the window expecting to see the door swung open from the howling wind. Instead, I saw a man and a woman in the window illuminated by candlelight. I couldn’t see them very well, the woman’s beachy blonde hair was draped over her face and the man had black hair. They both looked my age, probably in college. The man stood behind the woman with his arm firmly wrapped around her waist. From afar, it looked like a lover's embrace. I gagged and rolled my eyes, then moved my things away from the window and settled at the kitchen table.

About half an hour later I jumped out of my seat a little when I heard a knock at the door. I got up to open it, thinking nothing of it. The kid’s parents had probably come home early and had one too many drinks.

“Hey how was-” I stopped and gaped when the humidity wasn’t the only thing at the door to greet me.

A man towered over me, the same I saw in the window of the cabin. He stood in the frame and smiled the way you think a prince would in a fairy tale. He was put together as well, not a single hair on his head out of place. He wore a midnight-colored collared shirt and on his shoulder lay a black messenger bag. I felt my cheeks redden like cherries at how embarrassed I was that I looked like I was hit by a bus in front of this guy. If he wasn’t disturbing me in the middle of the night I’d think he was the most attractive man alive.

“Good evening,” damn, even his voice sounded dreamy, “I’m sorry for bothering you so late at night, but my friends and I were dumb and decided to camp out in that old cabin and all of our phones died. There’s no electricity in that janky thing, I was wondering If I could come in and charge it to call my mom? My friends want to spend the night, but I don’t feel safe without a fully charged phone”

“Oh, um, you can borrow my phone right now. I’m sure it will be much faster.”

“I’m going to sound like an idiot, but my mom just got a new number. I haven’t memorized it yet.” He laughed and I joined in.

By all means, this seemed like the kind of guy to make sure you got home after a party. The kind that would make sure all his friends were safe. The kind that helped his grandparents. But, a faint voice emerged from the darkest part of my mind and whispered, don’t let him in.

“It’s ok, we all have those moments,” I leaned against the door and twirled a piece of my hair, and giggled in my flirtiest voice, “I’m sorry, I don’t know if I should let strangers in.”

He leaned against the door and smirked.

“I just saw you in the window earlier, I thought I might as well give it a try.” he shrugged but stayed unmoved from the doorway. “Do kids live here?” I squinted my eyes in confusion, “I mean I saw toys back there. I just like kids, they’re fun to play with.”

His eyes stared deeply into mine and looked like a cat about to pounce. My heart began to beat in my throat and I felt my hand wanting to shake all while my stomach was doing flips. It was not just me who I needed to worry about now. But I needed to stay there paralyzed like a mouse, I needed him to think that I didn’t fear anything.

He’s going to make a move

“Yes, they are my younger siblings. It’s past their bedtime. My dad is awake though. I could go ask him if you can come in. He’s upstairs working on a case. I wouldn’t want him to come down and see a strange boy here late at night,” I smiled. His slumped shoulders lifted ever so slightly, and if only for a split second, annoyance flashed in his eyes, “I don’t really want to disturb him right now, but if it's an emergency I could.”

He stared at me as if I were a puzzle he was trying to solve. I continued to smile and act as if there wasn’t sweat dripping down my spine. As if my heart wasn’t somehow beginning to beat faster than before and I didn’t feel it pounding everywhere from my head to my toes. His gaze finally left me and peered into the house. He started to unzip his bag, but half way through he stopped and zipped it back up.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to disturb one more person in the house late at night. I can just grab my guys and go.”

He leaned off the door and bowed his head slightly to me, as a gentleman would. As he turned his back to walk away and return to the cabin with the candle in the window, I slowly closed the door. Then slowly walked to the kitchen and sat down at the table. I picked up the book nearest to me and pretended to read. Then pretended that I could not see the man staring at me through the candle-lit cabin window.

I don’t remember how long he stood there, staring, watching, perhaps even waiting to see if I would panic or fall on my face again. He smiled at me like I was his favorite game, but I sat there unmoving and staring at blank pages. It was as if I was in purgatory waiting for either heaven or hell. The candle began to flicker as if it was getting ready to perish. I took my chances and I quickly grabbed my phone out of my pocket and stuffed it into the book so it could not be seen. It was too late though, when I looked up, the candle’s flame had flickered out.

The metal clinking attacked my ears as I heard the garage door open. I shoved the chair back while I sprung up and readied myself to run. However, my feet felt melted to the floor when the knob on the door leading to the garage began to turn slowly. When it didn’t open the handle began to violently shake moving the door along with it. My ears began to ring and my chest tightened. The door gave through and swung open to reveal Mr. Johnson and his wife. I leaped from the chair and sprung across the room toward the mother and wrapped myself around her as if she was my mother. Her arms flew up over me in surprise at my sudden embrace but soon fell into an awkward hug. I leaned my sweat-glazed head on her shoulder and took a deep breath, not caring about the embarrassment, and whispered,

“Do not make any alarming movements while I tell you this and I need your help to get through this. The kids are safe, but I need you to walk to the bathroom and call the police. Tell your husband to lock all the doors and windows on the ground floor. He’s watching.”

She backed away quickly and looked at me as if I was a mad woman playing a prank. I stared at her with desperation written all over my face and mouthed, Please. She gently rested her delicate hands on my stiff shoulders.

“My dear, are you sure you aren’t just tired? It wasn’t your imagination on a late evening?” She grinned, then glanced out the window.

I nodded my head and waited for her to move, to speak, just any reaction. She bore her eyes into mine as if she were searching for something. After another eternity, she turned away from me to Mr. Johnson where she stopped and rested a hand on his shoulder and whispered something to him. His head shot up and his eyes met mine, and like his wife seemed to question me.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” the mother announced and walked out of the room.

Mr. Johnson had followed her out of the room at a quick pace.

Within minutes blue lights flashed through the windows and sirens sang through the air. I was escorted outside along with the rest of the family to talk to the police. Curious neighbors in their silk pajamas and hair rollers peeped out of their homes with wide eyes, only going back in when they got their fill of gossip to spread for the next day.

As I was telling my story to one of the cops, who was only half paying attention, I felt a small tug on my sleeve. I looked down to see Joey, stuffed animal in hand.

“I have a secret to tell you,” He giggled in a teasing voice.

“Not right now,” I responded.

“But the boy told me it was super duper important.”

“What boy?” I asked.

“The one in the window in the haunted house, he’s my friend.”

Both the cop and I stared at the boy in disbelief as he smiled.

“And what did your friend tell you?” the cop asked.

“It’s a secret only for her,” he pointed at me. I kneeled on the steamy pavement and turned so he could whisper in my ear, “ He said you were super smart. He wants to be your friend and see you again one day, but not for a long time. And he wanted to give you a present.”

He reached into the choo-choo train pajama pockets and pulled out tangled blonde hair tied together by a pink bow. He placed it in my hand and smiled as if he completed a mission. I stood there, frozen in time as it was the same beachy blonde I saw with the man in the window in between my hands. I felt the hay-like hair between my fingers, feeling the dried blood rub off as I twisted it faster and faster.

-----

Weeks had passed since that night. Since Mr. Johnson and his wife had decided to give me paid time off. Weeks since the closed casket funeral for the woman I saw in the window. People approached me on the street, telling me how clever and brave I am, but I don’t feel that way in the slightest. Every time I close my eyes, even when I blink, I see her standing with the man in the window. I feel her spirit lingering in the darkest corners of my mind screaming for help, digging her nails in my arms, and begging me to go back for her. When my eyes are wide awake, I find myself staring at an object but not seeing it as my chest boils with the unbearable guilt of what I could have done. Sometimes, while staring, I see myself with hair splayed over my face. I am screaming and shouting, but no one seems to hear me. All I know is the sweat sliding down my hairline and burning tears filling my eyes. I feel the hot breath on my neck which makes me want to jerk forward, but I can't. I'm trapped in place by claw-like hands digging into my stomach.

Even those small moments I seem to forget, I will be clearing tables absentmindedly at the restaurant and see a leftover newspaper with the headline reading, Cabin Killer left unsolved. I’ll be driving and hear the radio create a new conspiracy theory on what happened that night. I’ll be walking and people will glance a little too long and whisper a little too loudly. It’s always the man’s story being told, never mine, never the other woman’s. Hell, I’ve even heard kids creating ghost stories about him in that cabin. Though I don’t believe in ghosts, it seems like my past has become one. A wraith meant to trail me until my old and frail bones have nowhere to run. Until then I can try and keep running, but I fear it will soon catch up.