The Cabin

Layla: Are You Real?

Layla

If my counting is correct, Mr. Williams hasn't been to the cabin in 15 days.

The first day Mr. Williams was gone I held out a small chance of hope that he would stop by after his shift at work. When Mr. Williams didn't see me, I knew he was dealing with a lot. Mr. Williams and his ex-wife were going to inform Sebastian of their divorce. I didn't expect to see Mr. Williams in those first few crucial days, in fact, I would have been upset if he had abandoned his family in one fell swoop.

The next several days were spent with movie marathons and watching some shows. I tried to read books and keep my brain active by doing puzzles, but I was just so damn tired out of nowhere. I fell asleep several times on the couch without meaning to. My sleep schedule was starting to get disrupted. Once a week had gone by, I went downhill. I sent three messages to Mr. Williams over the span of a few days, through the box he had left me. I never received a reply.

One thing I can thank the cabin and my solitude for was my unhindered ability to think. Every scenario came to my mind. Mr. Williams got into a car accident, he is in a coma and I will die here, unnoticed. Mr. Williams and his ex-wife told Sebastian about their divorce and instead of separating, they found their "spark" again and are a happy family. Mr. Williams will feel so guilty about his transgressions that he will let me wither away. Out of sight and out of mind. These are a couple of the scenarios I had played out in my thoughts and dreams while I began to fade away in here.

When I hit the 10 days alone mark, I began to waste away. I could feel it in my thoughts and my body. I was giving up. I don't think it was a conscious choice, I just simply stopped everything. Each morning I get up, crawl out of bed and then just sit on my windowsill. I watch the day go by. I watch the few animals that remain, brave the cold. I watch as the snow falls from branches and I imagine the sound of the clump hitting the ground. When the sun goes down, I make my way back to bed. I can't sleep right away so I just lay in bed. Counting sheep doesn't get me to sleep. Instead, I think about my family. I think about how they are trying to find me. I think about them remaining hopeful that I will be located. Then I think of the reality that awaits me and them. I am going to die in this cabin. It is so isolated, that no one will stumble upon it by accident. Maybe in a decade, a storm hits and a tree falls on the cabin. A cleanup crew or some bored teenagers will discover this place and find my body. Thinking about the trauma my family is experiencing, and will experience because of me, makes me break down. I cry and I cry until I am too tired to continue. This is the moment I can fall asleep. I sleep until I am ready to wake. I pull myself over to the window and continue the cycle.

Each day is radio silent. Each day I become less hungry. I can't remember the last time I ate and at this point, I am well beyond feeling hungry. At least if I was hungry, I would feel something. My head aches from dehydration so each morning I fill a water bottle I found in my suitcase and sip on it each day. I think this water bottle is the only thing keeping me going.

Trigger Warning: Suicidal ideation

Yesterday was the two-week mark. I decided to take a bath. I sat in the water and felt the warmth, but no matter how long I sat in the scalding water, I felt cold. I began to sink below the surface. I released all the air I had in my lungs and I sank to the bottom of the tub. I waited there for several seconds. Then, I felt that twinge. I felt my body fight for a gasp. I fought against reaching the surface, but my body blocked out my intentions. The water burned as it trailed through my nose. I gasped for breath and inhaled some water as I did. I felt my heart race and my lungs fill with air. That small twinge of panic brought me back for just a few moments.

Since the bathtub, I have been slightly more present in my own body, but I still can't feel much. Now I sit on the sill and pressed my head against the glass. The glass feels cold and it almost feels comforting. On this night, I didn't drag myself back to bed as the sun fell. I hunkered down and fell asleep at the window. I woke up to the feeling that I was being watched. I looked around and the forest slowly came into focus. I scanned the trees around me and then I passed a shape that looked like a person. I returned to that spot in my vision and again I saw someone.