The Dark Sweet El

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Its fire shone like an infant light newly born into darkness and traipsed like a redbird caged by its dimness. Arcane, quiet, and dreary, it danced on a wick like it was ignorant of the world's mysteries.

But I knew it had secrets. So I stood and observed some more.

Beside the candle was a wall, and on this wall was a mirror, a thin glossily wooden framed mirror with worn-out edges and shallow crevices. A single crack laid across this mirror from its top edge to its bottom end, dividing it into two triangular halves. The crack seemed intact and grim with its boundaries traversing the plane of the mirror like a gentle lightning strike.

But the more I stared through the window, the larger the crack grew, spreading beyond the wooden frames to the walls of the cabin, holding a glistening void in its midst with echoing whispers of, "come near me not, come near me not!"

So there I stood, glaring at the glimmering light, watching as the crack expands, and mulling over my next steps. Should I go in and test my fate? Or stand here and meet my death? And is uncovering hidden secrets more important than living to tell them?

Crazy! I know. I sometimes question my life decisions and the voices in my head.

Sometimes, in my deep lonesome seconds, I ask the voices if all this is worth it. Like, who travels the world and sails the seas to see a cabin? Or who squanders his merry hours on a pursuit of a fire that is not even strong enough to burn a mountain? And why should I toss a one-sided coin with my existence?

But every time the voices promise me it is.

They say, "hold your breath, hold your breath, the story held in this cabin and witnessed by this fire is worth a billion of a million stories. So, hold your breath, hold your breath, because the cabin can heal the itching tear on the top of your head."

In response, I say, "okay. It has to." Besides, I am willing to do anything to heal this itching tear I feel on the center of the top of my head.

However, if I do end up touching the scythe of death tonight (before I am able to cure myself of this itch), I want you to hold a story for me; I want you to hold the story the voices told me of an innocent.

And if you deem yourself worthy of a hunt or, like me, have an itch on the top of your head, come looking for me. Or better, come looking for the cabin (but never for her.)

*******

The tale within this cabin's age is of a girl I shall call El.

El was human, as need not said. She inhaled and exhaled air like you and me. And everything about her existence was graceful. She was kindhearted and brave, modest and generous, and a unique and hardworking farmer. Her smile, laughter, and voice were gleeful, to say the least. Her entire personality was a taste of nature's sweetness, and her aura was like none any had ever seen.

When she walked the town, her dark smooth skin reflected the rays of the sun and casted itself on the eyes of every man within her vicinity. Her hair swirled in the air, dancing with the fabric of space, colliding against each other like the ocean's wave. And her precious eyes glittered ever-so-green like the burning northern aurora.

Most argued of her existence, as it seem to be a treasure trove in the realm of existence, hidden from all worldly vanities, only to be discovered once in forever. But I argue that El is real and as nature born things in pairs, her existence is the only balance to this seemingly good and evil world.

*******

El, in the least, was an odd duck, so she was alone most of her life with only her odd friends to keep her company.

Her first odd friend was Captain Henry. She loved his company, among the others, and treated him like a father. They talked for hours and hours, and Henry never seemed to bother.

They would talk all night about the gossip of the day and whispers of the night. But once he heard the crow from the midnight rooster, he would get up from El's bed with no warning of any kind, waive to her with a blow of kiss, and slowly vanish in the dark left corner of her room.

And, to El, everything about Captain Henry’s existence was graceful.

Her second odd friend was Esther. Esther never spoke a single word to El but she has protected her from evil all her life.

At night, Esther would walk into El’s room through the closed front doors, with her back facing the room doors. Without saying a single word either, Esther would walk to the center of the room and sit on the floor, protecting El and fighting incomprehensible battles with evil.

However, just like Henry, when she heard the first crow from the morning rooster. She would get up from the floor, and walk on the same footprints she made coming in, leaving El's room with her back facing the room doors.

Every few nights, this cycle repeated itself and, every night, El gave the same response.

"Goodnight grandma Esther."

And, to El, everything about Esther’s existence was graceful.

Her third friend was Wendy. On El’s journey to the farm, her childhood friend, Wendy, would join her to keep her company. Not caring about when their moment will come to an end, she danced and played with El, cherishing the little time they spent together like it was created for her alone.

Wendy loved to share the same story every day about her fiancée, Christopher. She bragged about how he painted the moons and stars, and how magnificent her wedding would be the next day. El loved her stories and listened to them everyday like she had never heard them before. She made Wendy promise to make her the bridesmaid at her wedding, and every time Wendy responded,

"Who else would it be?"

Sometimes, people saw El dancing and talking to herself and called her a crazy person or a summertime Pollyanna.

But no one judged Wendy. How could they?

They already judged and hung her to death four decades ago after calling her a witch. None of them were worthy of seeing Wendy, so Wendy minded her business and cherished the brief moment she shared with her best friend. They walked the same path every day until they reached the point the road divided into two. With hugs and kisses, they go their separate ways. El continues her journey to the farm, and Wendy vanishes with the morning stars.

And, to El, everything about Wendy’s existence was graceful.

Whenever El reaches the farm, she wakes her fourth and last friend, Archie, from a deep slumber. Ever since El knew him, he looked like a nine-year-old. He had a tender rawboned skin with deep-concaved eye sockets, his hairline was plastered with mud and blood, and his palms were hard and bruised. His body was always covered in dirt because he loved to sleep beneath the soil as flowers grew on him. Yet, despite his look, he had the kind of laughter that could make the sun smile.

El began her conversation every time by asking the same question.

"Good morning Archie, hope the bugs did not disturb you?"

And always, he responded, "No, they didn't El. I stayed up most of the night singing to the crops. I may have scared off a few people but my children needed me."

El and Archie named every crop and seed with a belief that their farmland was a society of fruits and vegetables, and that they were the gods of this farmland because they created and nourished life and chose when the crops died. Fictitious, El knew, but she felt Archie needed a sense of purpose to remain in our reality.

So, to El, everything about Archie's existence was graceful.

*******

For a long time, El and the cabin had never crossed paths, and there was no reason to. The cabin knew not of her name and she knew not of its existence. She had a well-structured life with her odd friends and she cared not about the past or future because her present was all that truly mattered, until one dreadful summer when death struck El's town.

Babies died no later than two years old. Soldiers and farmers became too drained and weak to fight battles and plant crops. And the scorching heat from the sun exceeded all expectations causing deaths by malnutrition and dehydration.

Questions rained across the town.

"Someone or something must be at fault. But who could it be? How could such evil bestow a good town, a town of noble and moral people?"

These questions rained on the townspeople, spreading like wildfire, looking for hungry animals.

Eventually, the people went hunting for the cause of such evil. Everyone pointed fingers at everyone, waiting and hoping the others would agree.

Not surprisingly, a finger landed on El. Then came a second one, and then, a third, a fourth, a fifth, …, a thousandth. Everyone was convinced that the girl with green eyes was evil.

Her smile and voice were not gleeful. No, they weren't. they were sorcery and hypnotism meant to cloud the minds of men and women.

Her kind gestures were not sweet. No, they weren't. They were behaviors of shape-shifting demons waiting for an opportunity to eat children.

And those days she was seen dancing and talking to herself , she was merely conjuring evil spirits to spread their dark mist across the town.

So, they rumored that she must be cursed or a witch. "She must be evil," they said.

But, like every rumor, it spreads in the air like dust and never lands on the ground until a gravity of evidence is felt.

El's cousin's friends sighted Esther leave El's room one night. Initially, they kept quiet and shared it among themselves as ghost stories. But as the town became more convinced that El was evil, they chose to do the right thing and reported the story to the king. The king showed no mercy on El and ordered her head to be placed on a table. So a crowd of angry soldiers and civilians marched to El's home, hoping they would slay an evil person, and free their noble and moral town from evil.

Upon their arrival, they noticed El was not home. She was on the farm with Archie. The angry mob needed blood so they whipped El's uncle and cousin as a punishment for harboring such evil. El's cousin died from the beatings and her uncle passed out in the mud of his son's blood.

A sigh of relief washed the faces of the townspeople as they watched El's uncle and cousin lay on the floor. A little rain poured on the ground as the sun stood still. Petrichor filled the air and everyone smiled at the heavens.

The soldier's commander yells, "you see, it is raining. Good has been done. Good has been done. And one last good must be done for this rain to stay."

El, completely unaware of the situation, was returning home with Wendy. They were chanting their melodic songs at each other so gracefully. They noticed the rain and the petrichor in the air but El felt unpleasant and ghostly. Then, she heard the shouts,

"THERE SHE IS. THERE IS THE WITCH."

A tone-deaf sound rang in her ear. She froze for a second or two, confused about why she saw forks, arrows, and fire aggressively approaching her. Then, in a white noise background, she heard Wendy yelling,

"Run El, Run, Run, RUN!"

She let go of her basket of tomatoes and potatoes. It dropped like a feather and landed at 30 degrees with the potatoes flinging from the baskets like water drops given momentum by a splash.

She revolved her left leg 180 degrees about her right leg, with her body facing the opposite direction from the angry mob, she thrust herself forward and ran with the wind. Wendy, not knowing the difference between the past and present, ran with El.

They ran on the farm trail.

They kept running until they reached the point the road divided into two. El, without thinking, took the path that led to her Uncle's farm, and Wendy abruptly froze. Confused, frightened, and fidgeting, Wendy could not let an atom of her ghost being walk on the path El took. So she fell on her knees and wept like a child,

"I can't. Don't hurt my Christopher" Wendy murmured to herself.

The angry mob walked past her like she was never there. Wendy, still traumatized and on her knees, made a thunderous scream at the heavens.

"NOOOOO!"

She pleaded and cried to El. At that moment, Wendy felt like she failed El and Christopher four decades ago.

Meanwhile, El was still running for her life with no one to help her; Grandma Esther only showed up at midnight, Archie was in a deep sleep after farming for hours, and commander Henry could not participate in violence. His mind was weary of the stress from war and wanted nothing to do with violence. So, he sat in the dark left corner of El's room and mumbled,

"No violence. Soldiers hold your ground."

"No violence. El... hold your ground."

*******

Amid all this chaos, El was still confused about why she was running. Arrows were flying past her so she knew she couldn't stop. But if she continued running, it would only add to the fact that she was guilty. So, she ran deeper and deeper into the forest and cried out,

"Please stop, I'm innocent."

But the angry mob needed to save their noble and moral town from evil. So they didn't listen and used El's voice to track her until she was hit by one of the flying arrows, leaving a blood trail.

El stumbled down a valley as the arrow pierced through her stomach like a bullet. She felt nothing at first until her fingers turned cold and drained. Her eyes locked at the sunset as she continued running, and then she cried again,

"Please, someone help me."

It was like the faster she ran, the faster she needed to run. Every breath she took swelled her lungs and hurt her stomach. The wind pressed against her skin, and the petrichor in the air smelled like blood.

Eventually, her legs ran faster than her brain could control and she stumbled and fell again.

But this time she got up again faster than she did before and continued running. Feeling daring and undaunted, she was ready to outrun the echoes of her death.

But she fell the third time with her right eye pierced by a stick. The stick had torn her right eye open like a blade tears a paper. Blood dripped down her face, and the space around her seemed blurry and lethargic.

In complete disarray, she placed her right hand on her right eye and her left hand on her stomach. And like the fighter she was, she got up again and continued running.

*******

At this point, she realized her death was inevitable and was ready to embrace its garment. Then, she saw a cabin a stone's throw away. Not sure if it was her imagination, she decided to go in. But as she was entering the cabin door, another arrow went through her thigh.

She fell to the ground in anguish and pain and cried out for Esther, but no one came. Her body was shaking in fear and her garment was dyed in her blood. She locked the cabin doors and crawled to the opposite end of the cabin. She still didn't know what she did wrong and didn't want to die if she was innocent.

So she rested her face on the cabin floor, wishing the pain would disappear. A tear sprung from her unwounded eye, down her nasal bone, and dropped on the murky wooden floor.

With her eyes closed and her hand leaning against the wall of the cabin, she made one last cry for help. But this time, it was to the most unlikely source.

She cried and prayed to the cabin saying,

"Dear cabin, my life is left to thee,

and my death has grown to be a must.

I know people think that stones and woods and water have no soul,

but you and I know that that is not true.

So, I lay my all to you.

Please, hear my cry because no one does."

After she was done, the last crystal teardrop dewed from her eyes and fell in her pool of tears, blood, and dust. The sun went down for the moon, and a shadow from the window crossed her body from her feet to her head, to a spot on the wall.

Then, out of nowhere, the room went dead silent and the doors and windows locked themselves like the cabin took a deep breath in and never exhaled. A candle on a crooked table lit up like a gossip lurking at the side of house and El felt life flow through her fingers as it laid on the wall.

The cabin was alive!

It was determined to save her, so it whispered to the forest, saying, "an innocent is in danger."

And the forest whispered back, "we will fight for her."

*******

Meanwhile, the soldiers stood outside battling with the doors, trying to get in. They threw their bodies at the door with a conviction that their victory was on a pinnacle. The civilians surrounded the cabin to make sure El didn't escape from the back.

Everyone posed their weapons ready to slay the witch.

Then, a light breeze caressed their feet. The breeze travelled with a mist that looked like the clouds had fallen. The commander frightened, yells,

"The witch is conjuring more evil. Break that door and stop her now!"

The soldiers threw more of their bodies at the doors and windows, but it didn't move a muscle. It hardened the harder they threw. The mist grew bigger and the angry mob became weary. They had no hopes of getting into the cabin. So, they decided to burn it down. But the cabin only swallowed the fire.

El still laid on the ground of the cabin almost lifeless. She didn't know what was happening outside but she could feel the vibrations of the soldiers hitting the doors and windows.

Then, she felt a crack on the wall. It seemed gentle and thin, but the deeper she pushed her fingers into it, the larger it grew. The crack felt cold and washed her fingers with life. It begun slowly reeling her in with a bribe of painlessness.

But she left her eyes closed with fear that it would bring her back to life and she would have to face the angry mob again. So she let it push her in.

Then, the flashes begun.

She remembered Archie. She remembered his warm remarks and laughter, and how it made her smile, and it was graceful. Then, she remembered captain Henry and his petty gossips, and how she laughed in his presence, and it was graceful.

She remembered Grandma Esther but this time, enigmatically, she heard her speak. Grandma Esther turned her head and looked at her saying, "you have always kept me safe. Thank you!"

Then, it dawned on her that she was the one protecting Grandma not the other way around. She smiled and it was graceful.

As her head slowing sunk into the crack, she saw Wendy still kneeling at point the farm trail divided into two. She attempted approaching her when Wendy raised her head with her eyes shining bright green, and saying with a deep dark voice,

"You are not dead. Don't let it take you!"

El fidgeted her body and opened her eyes abruptly. Her body was filled with immense strength and her soul was burning green.

She struggled to push herself out of the crack but the cabin was bent on saving her, so it pulled back with greater strength. Then, she screamed,

"STOP. NO MORE."

Not understanding the difference between dead and alive, the cabin kept pushing her into the crack, attempting to fuse with her, hoping to save her and take her pain away. El turned her head to the side and saw the candle.

The candle gazed at her from the side like one of those paintings that have following gaze. Its fire stopped dancing on the wick, waiting eagerly to see what happened next.

But the stare from the candle agitated El the more. She tried looking somewhere else but the remainder of the room was pitch dark. She threw her hands at the wall and her heart was drumming on the walls of her chest.

Then, a ripple bust out from her, shaking the walls of the cabin. The cabin immediately let go of its grasp. It realized she wasn't meant to be tolled with.

She slowly pulled her hand out and stands on her feet.

The crack remained as a wound on the cabin, completely unhealable. It remained there, glittering dark, and a frightened voice echoed from the crack,

"Ingrate! come near me not. come near me not"

El limped out of the cabin without looking back, and noticed everywhere was clouded with a mist. There was an eerie silence in the forest, no locust clattering, no soldiers or angry mob shouting, just complete silence.

She was surprised and kept staring at the mist when she noticed the dead bodies on the floor. She immediately realized the mist had killed the angry mob. The forest showed no mercy on the mob. It slaughtered everyone and everything, even the infants that laid on their mothers' back. She looked closer at a small girl, about her age, holding a cutlass. She saw beetles crawling out of the girl's nose and ears.

The beetles crawled around her and the mist surrounded her but none touched her. As she walked, the mist gave way. The dead bodies that laid on her path became clearer to see. There were thousands of corpses laying on the forest ground, and El stepped over them.

She walked back to the town and noticed the mist had spread across the town as well. No one survived the mist. Everyone died! El covered her mouth with her hand and cried,

"What have I done?"

Exhausted by the chaos of the day, she limped to her home and crawled to her bed. And she fell into a deep sleep.

*******

El was woken by a morning rooster and heard children playing outside. She saw her cousin and all the townspeople. They all stared at her with a grumpy look but later continued their activities. Confused and still scared that they might chase her again. She hid at a corner. Then, her cousin walked by. She tried to stop him and said,

"Hey, why were people chasing me yesterday?"

He didn't answer. She asked again, "why did they want to kill me yesterday?"

He still didn't answer. She reached out to grab his shoulder but her hands passed through him.

Completely confused, El walks back to the cabin, and saw all the dead bodies still on the ground. She enters the cabin and sees the crack on the wall. But the candle was unlit.

Scared at what she had done. She tries to cover up the crack with a clothe but it tore the clothe. Then, she spotted a mirror and hung it on the wall. But the crack appeared on the mirror.

Still feeling exhausted by her healing wounds. El went back home to rest again. As she gently laid her head on the pillow, she had a euphoria. She felt it was a dream. Her wounds had always been there and all she witnessed was nothing more that a nightmare. So she slept, ready to resume her daily activities the next day.

To the world, the town was massacred overnight. But to El, the town was filled with happy people, of noble and moral background who would never hurt her.

And, everything about the town's existence was graceful.

That is the story of an innocent.

*******

Now that I have shared this story with you, I'm ready to enter the cabin and seek its help. Please hold the story of El for me because something might happen to me in the cabin.

The itching tear on the top of my head is growing stronger, and I have a headache. The voices told me the cabin will help, so I am gracefully entering...

*******

As I slowly approached the cabin doors, I sensed a feeling of morbid and murkiness. The itch on my head grew stronger. So I kept my right hand on the top of my head and felt the wounds from my previous scratch, and I scratched some more. The skin on my head was peeling off into my fingers. The tip of my fingers were covered with dry blood, but the itch grew stronger, so I scratched some more.

The whispers from the crack on the wall transformed into a shout.

"COME NEAR ME NOT. COME NEAR ME NOT."

My heartbeat pulsating with anxiety. The voices in my head were yelling,

"HOLD YOUR BREATH. HOLD YOUR BREATH."

But the itch grew stronger, so I scratched some more. My body thrust forward. My other hand ascended to open the door. The walls were still shouting,

"COME NEAR ME NOT. COME NEAR ME NOT."

I opened the door. The room was partially dark and dreary. The candle fire stood stagnant like it did for El, while staring at me with its side gaze. The itch became unbearable. I pulled out a pen from my breast pocket and tried to puncture the itching tear on the top of my head, and I scratched it aggressively. But the itch grew stronger, so I scratched some more.

I looked at the crack on the wall, ready to say my prayer, just like El. But the itch was too strong, so I forgot to talk. So the crack on the wall screams,

"COME NEAR ME NOT. COME NEAR ME NOT."

I summoned the bravest courage and screamed back,

"YOU MUST HELP ME. YOU MUST HELP ME."

But the crack on the wall screamed back, yelling not to come closer. I ascended my left leg to reach the peak of a parabolic path. I descended it to the ground of the cabin. Then, everything amplified, the itch, the voices in my heard, and shouts on the wall. I realized I was not welcomed but the itch grew stronger so I scratched some more.

The sole of my shoe touched the ground of the cabin and for a second I felt peace. My heart was still beating like it wanted to escape from my chest. Goosebumps grumbled through my body. The itch was still immensely unbearable but the room was quiet.

Then, an enigma occurred. The crack on the wall grew smaller until it vanished. The candle's fire stood stagnant and eagerly invited more of its friends. More light echoed from inside a room.

The hair on my skin stood up.

Then, a distinct voice, not of the whispers in my head nor of the crack on the wall, rippled through the room, saying,

"Hoy, get the hell out of my house. I am calling the police!"

But the itch grew stronger so I scratched some more.

*******