A Night in the Forest ✔

A Sleepless Night

Reading the letter over again through the jostling of the carriage ride, butterflies take flight in my belly, their wings beating along the bridges of my ribs. The flourish of the words on the parchment flows in a timeless beauty, the looping ink heralding hope for a possible future. A new beginning.

The scribe talks of needing a housekeeper to look after a piece of property that had recently been deserted due to its owners leaving. It doesn't go into specifics and claims the need for privacy. Since I'm more or less on the run myself, it was too good a chance to pass up.

It didn't give the location of the estate, just referred to it being in a more remote part of the forest, hence the need for upkeep. When I'd found the original ad and sent an inquiry, my reply was this letter and a coach waiting to take me there immediately. Since the stolen funds I'd been using to stay at the motel were just about used up, there was no refusing.

While I'll admit to being a little nervous, I think I'd much prefer a small dwelling out in the woods rather than an abusive husband in a bustling city that turns a blind eye. They say the wilds are no place for a woman, especially one on her own, but I think I'd feel safer out there than in a town filled with indifference. The work will be hard, there's no denying that, but I'm no stranger to that.

The ride takes several days, stopping only a few times to rest the horses and allow for stretching and bathroom respites. While stopped, I try to make conversation with the coachman, an older gentleman who looks quite frail, but he doesn't seem too inclined. It's when I stop trying that the silence between us doesn't seem so strained or awkward.

I'm jerked from a fitful sleep sometime on the last day, the sky dark as the door is opened. His gruff manner lets me know we've arrived and that I need to get out so he can take the horses to the barn to feed and rest. Stepping out of the small space for the last time was a relief in and of itself.

After smoothing down the wrinkled skirt layers around my legs, I look up at the scenery around me, and can only gape at what fills my sight. The small mansion fills my field of view with large windows, archways, and turrets, statues and flowers, and waist-length stone walls adorned with creeping vines. There's even a courtyard and greenhouse that can be seen to one side, the other holding stables where the coachman had taken the carriage and horses.

Even though it's dark, it's a place of wondrous beauty in my eyes, my heart filling with hope and the exhilaration of freedom. Before the man had left for the barn, he'd left my things at the front door. Not like there's much there to juggle with, so I can easily take it in myself with no problems.

Sliding the old key out from a pocket, I slip it into the door and hear the thud of it clicking over. Pushing the heavy door open, the air that greets me as I step inside is stale, dry. Moving further inside, the interior looks more like that of a cottage than a mansion.

I fall in love instantly.

Granted I can't see that much, so I don't waste any more time in getting candles and lamps lit. Since there's wood in the living area's fireplace, I get it started as well. Not only to help with light illumination, but it adds scent to the air as well as background noise while I move around, familiarizing myself with the room.

With it being so late, there's not much to be done right now aside from airing it out a bit. Opening some windows and dusting off some of the furniture around the fireplace, I settle in on the couch and stare into its flames. My body steadily relaxes and for the first time in years, I find peace.

Snapping awake sometime later, the fire is out, only wisps of smoke coming from the remaining coals. There's a chill in the air that slithers down my spine, raising the fine hairs moments before strange cries sound from outside. I rise from my warmed nook and hurry to close the windows.