She sat by the hearth, watching as the snow on her boots melted and pooled on the wooden floor. The spot had begun to mold.
She’d lost count of how many times she had sat in this same position. The warmth of the fire no longer chased away the chill that had settled in her bones. It only kept her extremities from freezing, just enough so she could run. At this point, she believed the cabin enjoyed toying with her.
The calendar no longer mattered, she had no idea how long she had been in this forest. It was supposed to be a holiday, time away from the chaos of daily life. But now she missed her desk job and would much rather hear cars and people than the eerie gusts of wind that rattled the windows.
Her boyfriend was supposed to join her the second day, but there hadn’t been a second day, not really. Every day she repeated the same actions, down to a tee, without even realizing. It was like she was on autopilot, the cabin puppeteering her until she noticed something was off. The sun had risen and set several times, and even the whistles of the wind repeated themselves at the same times each day.
Cell service was dead out here. She had picked that, wanting to be remote for a week, but now she greatly regretted her choice. She couldn’t contact her boyfriend and no one was coming to help her.
She woke up the next morning in bed, though she had no recollection of moving from the fire. Not that she ever remembered the night before, not right away. She went through the motions, until breakfast.
While she sipped her coffee, she stared out the window. The wind was blowing pretty hard, kicking up snow and making the whole world white. She felt like she was in a snow globe. Except, the trees weren’t moving. No matter how much wind there was, the evergreen branches didn’t budge and their trunks didn’t sway even slightly. Not even the snow on the branches fell. They were frozen in place, too perfect. The loop.
Suddenly her coffee tasted sour. She dumped the cup in the sink, and it gurgled as the hot liquid dripped down the pipe. It had to end somewhere; there had to be a way out.
The cabin groaned when she reached for her boots and coat. When she picked her hat off the end of the banister, it was full of splinters that pricked her head from every direction. The door felt like it was made of lead, it resisted her pull inch by inch.
Outside, the air was freezing, but no fresher than inside. Her first step outside was freeing. All she had to do was make it to her car and she’d be home free. If she could find it; the snow was piled too high and the further she ventured, the stronger the winds became.
She was blinded and every step was a chore, but she had to go home. With all the strength she could muster, she began to run. She didn’t know there was ice up ahead.
She found herself by the hearth again, watching the snow melt off her boots.
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