The Creepiest Lil' Cabin!
I was looking for writing prompts since the LiveJournal ones tend to be super lame and I came across this one at a website: "You always look out the dark windows and wonder if something is out there. One night when you look, a small face with bright eyes appears at the window. Write about what you do, who/what it is, and why they are there." Now that I can write about.
I'm not sure how many of you knew this, but from 1989 to 2010 my family lived in an amateur-built, all-wood log cabin in the middle of the woods in the country. Dad was always a nutjob for privacy and a good view, and the cabin fulfilled all of that. It was built in the 1970s, and even when we left I think it still had the wiring, heat, and pipes of a house from the 1970s. I guess I should be glad the walls were made of logs and not asbestos, haha.
The thing about this cabin is that it rested in the heart of a thick woods. At night the only illumination was a sickly fluorescent glow from a single, solitary streetlamp near our driveway. The darkness surrounded us, and I always managed to find something about the midnight hues of the foliage outside to be very disturbing. The large windows we had in the kitchen didn't help.
You see, I'm a night owl. I always stay up very late. Most nights I would be reading salacious materials or suspenseful/creepy materials, and then I would realize I need something from the kitchen. If I was reading bawdy pieces this was no problem, but the creepy material was another matter entirely. I have always had a paranoid, active imagination and having windows leering open into the bleak darkness didn't help convince me that nothing went bump in the night.
So I would rush downstairs and avoid looking at the windows, uneasy. Just as quickly as I arrived I would run back up the stairs, never looking behind me. It was in these few moments in the kitchen where I felt a vague unease, a terrible siren call from the wicked glass windows on the walls. Most times it was just my fear getting the better of me, but sometimes I swear I could feel that there was indeed something there!
If I ventured close to the glass during those times I would get a stabbing panic going and could almost "see" something peering into the glass. Nothing was visible, of course, but I could "feel" (or imagine?) what it was. It was a creature with gleaming eyes as large as saucers, covered in black fur, with stiletto teeth and daggerclaw hands. It wanted in. It was hoping I didn't see it, and wanted me to frivolously open the windows or doors so it could slither inside. I honestly felt that thing twice and it always freaked me out. I'll never know if I'm just good at thinking myself into a terror or if my fear revealed the wisps of the wood lurking outside.
Imagination is both a both wonderful and terrible thing.
I'm glad we moved. My apartment is not scary at all, thank god! Nevermind that the apartment gets one or two bugs: the cabin had constant infestations. There's nothing like waking up one morning, opening your door, and coming face-to-face with a giant root borer. Nevermind the centipedes, honeybee infestations, cockroaches, carpenter bees, and legions of wolf spiders.
Next time I post maybe I should talk about the few things we HAVE seen around here. That'd make a nice post, me storytiming my brother's stories from the cabin including The Yeti, the Shadow People, and my story of the Haystack Monster.
But for now, I'm just gonna go.
-Jessica
I'm not sure how many of you knew this, but from 1989 to 2010 my family lived in an amateur-built, all-wood log cabin in the middle of the woods in the country. Dad was always a nutjob for privacy and a good view, and the cabin fulfilled all of that. It was built in the 1970s, and even when we left I think it still had the wiring, heat, and pipes of a house from the 1970s. I guess I should be glad the walls were made of logs and not asbestos, haha.
The thing about this cabin is that it rested in the heart of a thick woods. At night the only illumination was a sickly fluorescent glow from a single, solitary streetlamp near our driveway. The darkness surrounded us, and I always managed to find something about the midnight hues of the foliage outside to be very disturbing. The large windows we had in the kitchen didn't help.
You see, I'm a night owl. I always stay up very late. Most nights I would be reading salacious materials or suspenseful/creepy materials, and then I would realize I need something from the kitchen. If I was reading bawdy pieces this was no problem, but the creepy material was another matter entirely. I have always had a paranoid, active imagination and having windows leering open into the bleak darkness didn't help convince me that nothing went bump in the night.
So I would rush downstairs and avoid looking at the windows, uneasy. Just as quickly as I arrived I would run back up the stairs, never looking behind me. It was in these few moments in the kitchen where I felt a vague unease, a terrible siren call from the wicked glass windows on the walls. Most times it was just my fear getting the better of me, but sometimes I swear I could feel that there was indeed something there!
If I ventured close to the glass during those times I would get a stabbing panic going and could almost "see" something peering into the glass. Nothing was visible, of course, but I could "feel" (or imagine?) what it was. It was a creature with gleaming eyes as large as saucers, covered in black fur, with stiletto teeth and daggerclaw hands. It wanted in. It was hoping I didn't see it, and wanted me to frivolously open the windows or doors so it could slither inside. I honestly felt that thing twice and it always freaked me out. I'll never know if I'm just good at thinking myself into a terror or if my fear revealed the wisps of the wood lurking outside.
Imagination is both a both wonderful and terrible thing.
I'm glad we moved. My apartment is not scary at all, thank god! Nevermind that the apartment gets one or two bugs: the cabin had constant infestations. There's nothing like waking up one morning, opening your door, and coming face-to-face with a giant root borer. Nevermind the centipedes, honeybee infestations, cockroaches, carpenter bees, and legions of wolf spiders.
Next time I post maybe I should talk about the few things we HAVE seen around here. That'd make a nice post, me storytiming my brother's stories from the cabin including The Yeti, the Shadow People, and my story of the Haystack Monster.
But for now, I'm just gonna go.
-Jessica