I pull the thin blanket I have up to my face and turn over in the bed. Winter is coming quickly.

I’ll need to make a run for some winter supplies, so I don’t freeze to death.

This cabin was probably someone’s vacation home or spare place that they abandoned once everything started falling apart. Or maybe not, maybe someday the people who own this place will come home and I’ll be sitting here like goldy locks just hoping they are friendly bears. Not bears that want to shave my head and turn me in.

I wrap the blanket around my shoulders as I get out of bed. The sun is just starting to peak around the edges of the blinds. I make my way into the kitchen area, grabbing a piece of bread. Treating myself to some peanut butter, I lather it on, fold the bread in half and take a bite. Heavenly.

I grab a book that was left behind here and make my way out towards the back porch. I sit directly on the old wood and adjust the blanket on my shoulders. In just a couple more bites, my breakfast is gone, and I crack open the book.

Leaning up against the house, before I realize it, the sun has risen, and the birds are chirping. Hours pass by as I let myself be fully engrossed in a novel about four inseparable men that are fearlessly facing many swashbuckling adventures together. Their struggles are eased with their comradery, and they are comforted by the knowledge that they have each other’s backs. As enthralled with the tale as I am, it makes me long for someone to be by my side too. For someone I could trust.

I could trust Jackson. I can’t help but have that thought. But it is quickly followed up with…

Could I still trust Jackson?

Before I know it, most of the day is past and the light of the day is starting to wane. I have finished most of the book, but hunger pains take my attention away from the adventure. As I go back into the kitchen, I think to myself that I’ll probably finish this book tomorrow. Making myself another peanut butter sandwich, I freeze as I think I hear something.

Perfectly still, I listen. Nothing. As I silently lower my bread, I creep over to the windows looking out the front where I think I heard the sound. I peek out the curtains that forever remain shut. Scanning the front yard, I see nothing. But since the sun is setting, the landscape is blurred in shadows making it hard for my eyes to adjust. Then again. Another sound. Breaking of branches and the crunching of the earth under a foot. No not a foot, feet. The sound is coming closer. I feel my heart sink and my body fills with dread. I scan the yard again and I see them. In the distance, at least five people, closing in on the house.

Should I try and hide? Do they somehow know I’m here? Should I make a run for it?

I am quickly losing time to decide. There is not anywhere to hide in the cabin. Just a couple of closets that would easily be opened and searched. Suddenly, the people started shouting. In my blind fear I can’t really hear what they are saying, but that is my que to run.

As quietly as I can in my panic, I cross the old creaky cabin and exit the back door. Once I’m off the back step I break out into a sprint. The shouting increases, and I hear their shuffling get louder.

They see me.

They are running after me, but I don’t dare look back.

Goodbye my beautiful sanctuary.

 The sun is now set, and it is getting harder and harder to see. Terror and adrenaline course through me as I run blindly. In the blur of darkness and fear, I feel myself fall a fair distance and hit the stiff ground. The voices are rapidly approaching and are loud and laughing. Even in this confusion, my body takes the ring off my finger and slips it into my secret pouch. Then I feel a sharp pain on the back of my head and then there is nothing but blackness.