The Death of the Moth

“Just as life had been strange a few minutes before, so death was now as strange.” - The Death of the Moth, Virginia Woolf

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Annie saw this through her binoculars. The only lights she ever saw from across the lake were the tiny flashes of fireflies, but it was too cold outside and this new light did not move. The house across the lake has been sitting empty for as long as Annie, who had been here for a majority of her summers and a few of the winters, could remember. It was a beautiful lake house that sat on a few acres of land, taking up a majority of the lakefront property. She appreciated that the house never sold and nothing could be developed instead. Annie enjoyed the peace that she got out here. The house was the biggest on the lake. It was built back in the day as a hunting club for rich folks from the city. The current owner is an older gentleman who lives across the country and never visits the house. She heard from folks in the area that he left the house about forty years ago and hasn’t visited, or kept up the property, since. Annie joked that the place was haunted, why else would you just let a beautiful cabin on the lake, secluded and surrounded by nature, just sit there?

The following two nights, the light still shone in the window. Annie checked the local paper for any notice that the cabin might have changed hands. There were no other lights or any voices, which typically carried over the lake. This is the time of the year when all the families are away from their vacation homes and the only people remaining in the area were the lonely ones who had nothing to go back to. Winter was Annie’s least favorite season for this reason. She preferred the long nights where she could sit on the back porch with her night cap and listen to the sounds of children’s laughter. Though she had memories of warm times at this lake, the winters were especially cold.

Driven by a deep curiosity, Annie finally decided she should introduce herself to the new neighbors. She waited until dusk came, just to make sure that the light was still there. When she saw the glimmer of that candle she packed up some muffins and got in her old station wagon. She drove around the lake and when she approached the house she noticed there were no other vehicles. However, she could still see in the upper window that the candle was still burning. Someone had to be there. When Annie reached the door, she raised her hand to knock but a soft whisper stopped her from hitting the door. “Come in” she swore she heard in the wind and without a second thought, Annie reached down and turned the doorknob.

The foyer of the house was brilliant, again begging the question of why this place has remained empty for so long. There was a grand staircase with a small antler chandelier hanging over it. At the top of the stairs was a stained glass window, something Annie never noticed from the outside of the house. The window featured a stag, running from a group of men on horses through the woods.

Annie was admiring the glass when she heard a ‘clink’ from the hallway to the right of the staircase. “Hello?” Annie called out as she approached the hallway. There was a room lit up at the very end and she could hear water running. “Hello?” Annie called again. Glancing into the room, Annie saw it was a kitchen and at the sink stood a woman doing dishes.

“Oh, hello,” said Annie. “I’m sorry for just coming in like this. The door was open. I’m your neighbor, Annie.” She was feeling a tinge of regret for just barging into the house without knocking.

The woman turned to Annie, drying her hands off on her apron. “Annie, it’s so great to meet you. I apologize, I wasn’t expecting company.” The bright smile on the woman’s face was a relief to Annie, she could feel her heartbeat slowing down.

“I just wanted to introduce myself. I noticed a light in the window, there hasn’t been anyone here for years.” Annie remembered the muffins in her hands. “Oh, and I brought muffins. I hope you like banana nut.”

“There is no need to apologize. I was hoping a candle in the window would let people know that this house is occupied. Truth is, we’ve been here for quite a while, but we don’t get many visitors. That’s our fault, I suppose, we tend to keep to ourselves.”

“Who else lives with you? Your family?”

“Yes, James and I have two little girls. Are you married?”

“Divorced.”

“I’m sorry to hear,” the woman gestured to the table that was sitting in the middle of the kitchen and the two sat.

“How old are your little ones? I had no clue there were children at Cape Lake this time of the year.“

“They are nine and seven. They are quiet girls and they are afraid of the lake. They made up all of these wild stories about what might be in there. No, they have no desire to go near the lake, they much rather sit in their rooms and read. Sometimes I forget we have children.”

Annie heard giggling and behind the woman saw something dash down the hall. All Annie caught was a ponytail tied back with a white bow. Annie smiled, remembering that her Ellie went through a phase in which she wore a bow in her hair every day. She was so persistent that Annie taught her how to tie a bow herself so she could fix it herself every time it fell out.

“They seem very happy,” said Annie.

“Would you like to sit in the parlor? It’s a bit cozier in there than the kitchen.”

“Sure. But I shouldn’t stay for too long. I just wanted to say hello,” But before Annie could finish her sentence, the woman walked out of the kitchen. Annie followed her, “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I got your name.”

When Annie left the kitchen, the woman was not there. The hallway had multiple doorways and Annie wasn’t sure which one the woman could've gone through. Annie made her way to the first entrance, looking at all the photographs lining the walls of the hall. They were family pictures, mostly, old black and white photos. The last picture was that of two little girls, holding hands in their Sunday best. One girl had two braids, the other with a bow in her hair. The picture stopped Annie because she recognized the two girls.

“Ma’m? Who are the girls in this photograph? They look exactly —” But Annie stopped when she circled the first doorway and realized no one was listening. She walked into the room, which was an office with large bookshelves on either wall and two wingback chairs facing a large brick fireplace with a burning fire.

Annie walked toward the first, memorized by the bright flame. When Annie turned back around, the door was gone.

Annie spun, visually searching all corners of the room. There was no exit. She ran to the wall where the door once was and banged on the wall. panicking she searched the wall for where the door might have gone. A trick wall, perhaps? A turning wall door? An illusion of some sort? That’s what this had to be. Tears ran down her cheeks and she felt like screaming. But before she opened her mouth, she heard the voice of a man. “Why Annie?” The voice pleaded. Annie placed her hands over her ears while scanning the room for the source of the voice. “Annie, why were you there?”

Annie ran and opened all the drawers and in searching the desk for answers—for something that might stop the voice and let her out of this room—she glanced at a newspaper sitting upon the desk and she caught the headline, in big bold letters across the whole page. Annie grabbed the paper and threw it into the fire. Finally, that scream that had been waiting inside her throat was released. And as if her scream was a cue, the voices stopped. Annie looked up, and the doors were back and the room looked just as it did before, clean, with a peaceful fireplace crackling behind her. Annie left the room to find the woman was right there.

“Oh, there you are. I thought I lost you for a moment,” said the woman.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Annie still felt the panic in her chest. “But I really should be going back home now.”

“Are you sure you don’t want a glass of water, or something harder? Dear, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I really need to be going,” Behind the woman, Annie caught a glimpse of a white bow.

“Very well, let me show you to the door.”

Annie walked down the long hallway and out into the foyer with the woman. Finally, a room that she was familiar with. The doors to safety were within reach. Annie was ready to go home, pour a full glass of whiskey, and take a Xanax—but she doubted that even that would be enough to put her to sleep. The woman turned around and looked at Annie.

“Please come back soon, it’s a shame you’re leaving so early.”

A giggle came from behind Annie and she turned to look at what made the noise. Turning back, the woman was gone; instead, there were two little girls with their backs to the door. They were the same little girls from the photo before.

“Ellie?” cried Annie. “Meave?”

They looked exactly like her little girls. There was no mistake, even though Annie hasn’t seen them in years, she could remember every detail on their faces. Annie approached them, hoping to scoop them up in her arms. But the girls ran in opposite directions and though she could not see where they had gone, she could hear them.

“Mommy, can we go play?

“Mommy, can we go run?”

“Mommy, we won’t go far!”

Annie searched for her girls in the foyer, lit by only the full moon which shined through the stained glass. But their voices only got farther away.

“Ellie! Maeve!” Annie cried out for them. Suddenly, the front door flung open. The voices grew louder as they were coming from outside. Annie ran outside, still searching for her girls, crying out for them. She closed her eyes to try to gauge what direction their calls were coming from, and when she opened them, she realized that they were calling her from the lake.

“Mommy, can we go swimming?”

Annie sprinted towards the water, tripping on overgrown roots from the tall pine trees. The voices became louder as Annie got closer to the lake. Without any hesitation at the shore, Annie desperately ran into the lake and started swimming to the middle, searching.

“Mommy, we won’t go far!”

“Mommy Mommy Mommy”

Annie continued swimming. but the more she swam the farther the voices again became. She was starting to panic, memories choked her like a tight noose around her neck. She stopped swimming, desperate to regain her breath. But the water, and her heart, were unforgiving.

“Ellie,” Annie coughed, “Maeve!”

Annie turned back to see that the shore was much farther than she realized. How could she have swum so far?

“Mommy Mommy Mommy”

“Ellie! Maeve!”

Still trying to catch her breath, the late water poured into her mouth. Annie tried to call out for help, but there was not enough air to lend itself to the sounds. Soon enough, the voices of the little girls stopped. The candle in the window of the lakehouse shined brighter than it did earlier that night. The house was quiet, and the lake became still. In the study, inside the house, the fire still crackled with nobody there to feel its warmth. Instead it burned for the houses’ pleasure. And on the table, the fire illuminated the daily paper from exactly three years ago today. And above the fold was a photo of a lake with a story that began, “A mother mourns…”