The Cellar
There was only one rule: "don’t open the door" to the canning cellar, written in the confirmation email from the owner of the rustic cabin, that my wife and I were renting for the long holiday weekend. Paying little mind to this warning, we intended to be courteous, and follow the owner's instructions.
We always take a trip to the mountains for the first snow. This year it fell on Thanksgiving, giving us four days in the mountain cabin, with a deck and hot tub, surrounded by snow capped firs. Having just enjoyed a dinner, my wife took wine to the hot tub, I decided to shovel the snow before joining her. When I got to the cellar door, I heard a thud, with an eerie feeling I quickly moved away, and went to join my wife.
"What do you think's in the cellar?" my wife asks. "don't know, but I heard something". "Creepy", "Yeah" I reply. Then a squirrel is seen jumping from the trees onto the cellar and back, "That was the sound". Feeling tired after a 2 hour soak, we headed to bed.
I'm awakened by a door slamming, I sit up and and see through the window my wife, outside, walking to the cellar and the door is open. "NOOOO!" I'm shouting, she doesn't hear me. I chase after her, as I hit the snow, she's at the door peering into the cellar, she still doesn't hear me. Then she's gone into the darkness, She's screaming. The snow is like wet concrete, I can't move. Her screams fading. My eyes open, 5 a.m. my phone alarm ringing. I hit stop, gasp, and reach for my wife, she's not here. Outside I see footprints in the fresh snow leading to, and ending at the closed cellar door.
About the Creator
Meko James
"We praise our leaders through echo chambers"
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