Words Are More Powerful Than We Know

Reality

Life is a series of unpredictable events. Moments where you exist within your own mind. Are these moments real? What does reality even mean? Do we go day to day in a reality we’ve made up in our own minds, convincing ourselves that these things are real, that these things are true? But who’s to say what is true? Where is the line where reality and truth meet? I have created this line in my mind. I walk along this line and imagine everything playing out around me. 

The wind blows gently across my face and the trees sway slightly. I am walking towards an old cabin. This place is so familiar. The smell of oak and fire pushes itself into my nostrils, burdening my senses. I do not recall the smell of anything else at this moment. I see my sister. She is walking down the trail by the lake. We always went there to escape. I call to her. There is no answer. She does not even turn towards me. Why wouldn’t she answer me? 

I walk along the trail by the river. I pass the old tree by the cabin. The cabin. There it is again. Who could this cabin belong to? I walk towards the cabin. I hear a sound. A howl. A rustle of small feet somewhere in the woods. A wolf perhaps? It could be a mutt. My dad had a hunting dog. His name was Benson. He was such a smart dog. Benson could always sense when something bad was near. 

I near the cabin. Small steps, I take. The porch creaks quietly beneath my feet. The sound of rodents fill my ears. My mother always hated mice. She would escape them at any cost. Perhaps, so should I. I shove those thoughts to the back of my mind as I reach my hand for the door. The door swings open with a loud squeal. 

As I enter, I am smothered with the stench of decay. The smell of what is now old and dying. It is dark and damp. I search frantically for a light. I fumble through the darkness. Finally, my fingers run across an object that feels like a lantern of sorts. I turn a nob. The cabin is illuminated. 

My sister is there. She is standing near the back door of the cabin, looking out. Looking at something. She has such fear in her eyes. Or is that curiosity, confusion, or awe? Whatever it is, it sends her running outside. I run after her, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever this is. I make it to the door. She is gone. A chill runs down my spine. 

It is raining now. I close the door. There is a shadow. I run after it, down the hall and into a room. There is nothing. Oh wait, there is a note on the bed. “Don’t come after me. The storm is far too dangerous and you have no one for miles to take you in for the night. Just stay home and let me do what I have to. Love, your sister.” Who was she talking to? Where is she going? The lights in the cabin go out. 

A candle is lit. It illuminates the hall. I stand up. What is going on? Another candle is lit. There is a room that I hadn’t noticed before. I walk towards the room. I hear a baby cry. The sound is strange, like static in my ears. Whose baby could this be? Perhaps it is my sisters. But why would she leave it here alone? Did she even have a baby? I walk into the room. There is a woman sitting in a rocking chair with the baby. She is crying. She repeats, to what I can only assume is to herself, “You must not do what your head is telling you. It is unimaginable!” I reach out to touch her.

I am in another room now. Wind blows cold across my cheek. Perhaps there is a window open. A man runs past me. Or did he run through me? “Elizabeth!” he yells, running into the room I just left. I hear him scream and then there is weeping. I walk to the doorway. 

I am outside, facing the cabin. I see my dad. He is carrying something very large. He staggers from the weight of the object. I see him walk inside. He is outside again before I can take a step forward. I follow him towards a shed near the cabin. How did I not notice the shed? He exits the shed in a hurry. Now he is carrying another object. He is moving too quick for me to see what it is. He is crying loudly. His cries echo off of the cabin and into the woods. Has he been crying this whole time? 

We are back in front of the cabin. My dad walks forward. I am hesitant to follow. I watch as he pours a liquid onto the ground of the cabin. He stands in the center of the old cabin. The cabin is illuminated. The cabin is consumed. I run towards him. Screaming out to him.

I am inside the cabin now. Covered in rain. My eyes are burning. Is it because of the smoke? How is this possible? I spin in a full circle, taking in the entire cabin. It appears untouched by the flames I saw, the smoke I smelled. I turn around to head to the nearest exit. I see my dad, my sister, my mom, Elizabeth, the baby, the suitor. Were these people not consumed by the flames? My dad reaches out and grabs my arm. 

We are outside. We are all standing in front of the cabin. The cabin is illuminated. I feel the heat. I smell the smoke. I watch as the cabin is consumed once more. I turn to look at my dad. He is gone. They are all gone. I hear screams. The screams are consumed by the fire, consumed by the cabin. 

I awake. I am covered in sweat. The smell of smoke burns my nostrils and eyes. Was it all just a dream? I stand and head towards the window. I see my mom and dad by the garden. They are laughing. Their laughter echoes off of the house. I head towards the door. I open the door. My sister is standing there. She is holding her crying baby. She hands the baby to me with worry in her eyes. I take the baby. It stops crying. I walk to the door with my sister. I open the door.

We are outside. We are standing with my mom and dad. There are also two people who I don’t recognize. A man and a woman. Oh and there is a baby. The baby stares at me and begins to cry. I turn to face the house. There is the old cabin. It bursts into flames. The windows explode, sending shattered glass back at us. Wait. I am alone. 

I hear screams. The screams are consumed by the fire, consumed by the cabin. The closest thing to reality was the old cabin. The smell of oak and fire.