The Last Sprite (ManxMan)

Chapter 1

Dedication: SamanthaHeart9

Chapter 1

There was a sort of peace in seclusion; Being truly alone in the world had its advantages. No matter the hour of the day, you could curl up in a ball and cry over a plate of half-assed nachos you threw together in a teary eyed fit of mania. If you felt like consuming a bottle of wine while soaking in a scalding bath until your skin withered, and the water turned to ice, you could. If you wanted to light candles throughout your home, turn your music up loud enough to vibrate the windows, and dance around in your underwear while simultaneously avoiding the world and your feelings, you most definitely could.

There was no one to bother you.

Or to see you making a complete fool out of yourself.

The cabin, the shell of my seclusion, was positioned on the top of one of the highest bluffs in the park. The road to the cabin itself was little more than a dirt path with dense trees on either side; however, the drive opened to a rather large, mostly cleared plot. There were a few trees that were allowed to continue growing. From what I could tell, they were the same trees that filled the park except for one that stood in the middle of the clearing.

It looked ancient with its alabaster, massive truck that was at least double the size of the other trees around the house, and its leaves remained a constant amber no matter the season. The limbs seemed to twist outwards and upwards at every direction, and its white roots spider-webbed across the surface of the earth. The bark felt smooth as if it had been polished.

Even as a kid, the tree was my favorite part of the cabin. I used to photograph its branches and jump from root to root playing the ground is lava. I spent many days in the tree's limbs, staring up at the clouds. When I moved into the cabin, the tree still seemed to captivate me; however, one thing I never noticed as a child was how much it glowed in the moonlight.

The exterior of the cabin differed greatly from the inside. From the outside, the cabin looked like your standard updated wooden structure. It was made from local wood and had large dominating windows that gave the illusion of being part of nature without actually having to go outside. The back half of the cabin stood on stilts that bolted the structure to the bluff it overhang from.

Inside, the cabin had been gutted and completely renovated to meet my parents' tastes. The only thing that remained from the original structure were the floorings. The walls were painted white and all the fixtures and appliances were updated to stainless steel.

In the beginning, the motivation to simply exist seemed to tuck-tail and run away from me; however, I managed to focus on the small things. No matter how I was feelings, I forced myself to do three things: get out of bed, brush my damn teeth, and bathe.

The acts were small, but they allowed me something to focus on when life grew too loud. I grew to enjoy parts of life I hated before. For example, I rarely cooked for myself, but after the realization that no pizza companies delivered to the middle of the woods, I began experimenting in the kitchen. Sadly, while I could eat most of what I whipped up, it usually didn't taste all that great. I truly believed I picked up a curse at some point in my life but never noticed due to my lack of time spent in the kitchen. This curse made everything I prepared either charred to ash or undercooked to a gelatinous mush.

I started to enjoy cleaning too. When I first moved in, everything was covered in a light film of dust, but I slowly, room by room, I scrubbed every surface and swept every corner. The monotonousness came in handy when the panic attacks set in. It allowed me to zone out, to catch my breath.

I came to fear people. Honestly, I didn't understand exactly where this fear for people developed or how it became so intense. All I knew was that the thought of having to see anyone made my skin crawl. The few times I forced myself to drive into town to check my mail and pick up groceries, this thick, slimy feeling of pure dread filled my veins and made me dizzy. My heart would pound so loudly that it felt like it would leap from my chest and hide under the nearest rock.