Welcome Home

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Despite how long it's been, the cabin still looked good as new. It had a white exterior with accents of blue to match the sea that was just down the road from it. The round windows in front were new and gleaming, and the white door with the decorative trim even had a welcome sign hanging from it. I abandoned this cabin long ago when I was a teenager. I remembered that I didn’t want to step foot in that cabin again. It was only really used for vacation purposes anyway, so it was easy to avoid. But now that I needed a place to stay, this cabin was the only thing standing between me and the streets.

It was just going to be me living in the cabin for a while, and it certainly had enough space for me. I remember that it had a white modern kitchen with sleek silver appliances, and it had a spacious living room with a curved sand colored couch in the middle of the room, facing a large, mounted flat screen TV. There was a little bathroom painted green off the living area, and also a flight of stairs that led into not one, but two bedrooms, one painted tan, and one painted blue upstairs, as well as a master bathroom that had navy walls. Lights in every room were operated by pull chains, each of them attached to fixtures that gave off warm light to breathe the cabin to life.

I walked up to the front door with the keys ready in hand and I stopped, hesitating to go any further. I shook my head, chastising myself. I was scared of this place because of what I saw as a kid here. But I was a kid, of course it was all in my head. I really didn’t have anything to worry about. I opened the door and looked around, inhaling the sweet scent of apples that was coming from the lit candle. My mother had come to this place before me, and I knew she probably lit the candle to make me happy. I adored candles and the different smells they had. The kitchen with the candle was to my right. While the living room and the bathroom were to my left. The stairs that led to the second level were directly in front of me. Boxes of my things were stacked in the kitchen, waiting for me to unpack them. I looked out the window, seeing the trees outside sway gently. It was the middle of the day. I still had plenty of time to unpack. I dropped my shoulder bag down onto the kitchen table, and I got to work.

* * *

It was hours later, and I had unpacked about half of my belongings. The house was cute, and I enjoyed the view that I had from my bedroom window. I could just catch the ocean line behind the trees when the wind blew the tops around. I tried to focus on that thought as night fell. For no reason in particular, I was beginning to feel nervous, and the feeling was growing worse as it got darker outside. I poured myself a glass of wine from my newly stocked cabinet, hoping to clear my head of the nonsense feeling. I had turned on all of the lights in the house, one to get more familiar with my new home, and two, so that I could make the house feel warm, to feel more comfortable. I changed into night clothes, cupped my wine glass in my hands and sat back on my couch, curling up in the bright living room to settle for the night.

I startled awake, blinking rapidly against the overhead lights above me. I must have fallen asleep on the couch, and my odd positioning must have woken me up. I sat straighter, gazing around the small off white room. The window outside showed that it was pitch black out. Not a hint of light penetrated past the trees. I looked around and felt my heart start to thump. The pull chains of the lights in the living room were swaying back and forth, in the same synchronized motion. I glanced around the stairs and saw that the pull chains in the kitchen were swinging too. Watching them gave me a sense of dread. I was getting ready to stand up when I heard it - a creak from upstairs.

I sat stock still, listening intently for any more noise. It was quiet, with the only sound coming from the TV. Then there was another creak, almost like footsteps on the floorboards above. The footsteps sounded like they were making their way towards the stairs. I turned my head to look behind me, where the stairs were. There was a pause in noise again. I blinked, waiting for any more sound. My skin felt like it was starting to crawl, a cold chill was running up my spine. But still no noise. Maybe I just heard something falling and rolling upstairs. Maybe it was the cabin settling. Older homes do that, right? My thumping heart began to settle, and I let out a sigh of relief.

Suddenly footsteps sounded on the stairs, descending rapidly as if someone heavy was running down the stairs. The sudden noise made my heart jump to my throat, and I jumped off the couch, now facing the stairs. Even though I was hearing the stairs creak and shudder, there was no one there. When the last stair made its groan, the sound stopped, like someone, or something was standing at the foot of the stairs. But I still didn’t see anyone. Despite staring at the spot that the noises stopped at, I was staring at empty air. And despite there being no one there, I felt like I was being watched. My skin crawled, and I felt on edge from the watched feeling, wishing I understood why I felt like something was watching.

I quickly glanced down at my watch. It was midnight. Seeing the time made me shudder. I remember that this used to happen when I was a child. Footsteps could be heard on the stairs at midnight. But I didn’t remember the sound of footsteps running. In my memories, the footsteps were slow, at a walking pace. I looked back up, still feeling like I was being watched. When I did, I heard a whine from the kitchen. Ever so slowly, I cast my eyes around the stairs and looked into the kitchen.

In the kitchen was a small island countertop, cabinets above the small silver sink, and cabinets below. The window was away from all the cabinets, closer to the front door, where the candle still flickered. The pull chains in there were still swinging. Two cabinets above the sink were now open, and I was sure I had closed everything before. Then as I watched, the candle that was lit on the windowsill flickered wildly, and then went out, with little curls of smoke reaching towards the ceiling. As I continued to watch, the little smoke trails were blown sideways, and the windows fogged up a bit, as if someone was close to the window, breathing on the glass. The fog disappeared quickly. Then it appeared again.

Now really unnerved, I sprinted up the stairs of the house, and ran into my new bedroom. Nothing was really set up in here, but I had my bed on a simple oak frame, and my blankets were on it. I dove into the bed, and pulled the blankets over my head. I also did this as a kid when I was scared. Mom used to tell me that it would make the things I was scared of go away. Maybe if I was curled under the blankets like this, I would be able to calm down and think clearly. But right now, the fear I felt was making my mind feel scrambled. Some kind of wind blew out the candle. Maybe it was a vent or something that I didn't see. That must be it. I couldn't let my fear tainted childhood memories of this cabin scare me from making this place my new home.

From downstairs, I heard a weight on the stairs again, the wood there squealing from the movement. Footsteps slowly, slowly began to climb the stairs. I peeked out of my blanket quickly. Every room, including the hallways, were still lit brightly, and nothing looked out of place. Except the pull cords up here were swinging too, going back and forth like pendulums. I hid my face under the blanket again as the footsteps reached the top of the stairs. My whole body quaked uncontrollably, and my breathing was ragged, too loud to my ears. Then, the footsteps stopped. The silence after that made my body shake more, almost to the point where my teeth were chattering. There were soft noises now coming from the padded hallways, coming closer to the bedroom. Even though I was already under the blankets, I shut my eyes. With my eyes shut, I remembered when I was a kid hearing the footsteps coming right to my bed, just for whatever - or whoever- to stand there and stare. I didn’t want to relive that. I didn’t want to relive this.

After a while, I realized that there were no more footsteps, or at least they didn't come closer to me. I cracked my eyes open, and blinked a few times, confused. It was completely dark under the blanket, when it wasn’t before. I peeked out from underneath the blanket and quickly gazed around the room. Everything was pitch black. There wasn’t even a glow of light coming from downstairs. I blinked a few more times, trying to adjust my eyes to the darkness. I was going to move to try and flick on the lights, but I found that I couldn’t move. My body was frozen, locked in place by cold fear. I resigned myself to staying huddled on the bed, waiting to see if the light turned on by themselves. Maybe there was a power outage in the area.

As my eyes adjusted, I began to focus on one corner of my room, the corner closest to the door, furthest from me. It seemed to be darker than the rest of the room, and the dull light from the moon outside didn’t seem to touch it. It was a shadow, as tall as the ceiling itself, and it seemed to just stand there, where I heard the footsteps stop. As I tried to figure out what it was, my attention was drawn near the top of the shadow. There, staring back at me, were large round crimson eyes, and they were pointed right at me. The second I saw them, cold filled me, and I audibly gasped and whimpered at the sight. Whatever this was, it was far taller than I was. The eyes seemed to squint, and the dark shadow that they were a part of seemed to grow bigger. After a minute, I heard a deep, deep sound coming from it. My frightened brain took a minute to understand what I was hearing.

“Welcome home.”