The Wooden Cabin

I pressed my hands on my ears, the thunders growing louder as time passed. They were getting closer, who knew when one would hit here.

I was looking for him. The hooded figure that was chasing my dreams constantly, in this wooden cabin we've always found each other. It was decayed and abandoned; holes and broken wood all over. Not the most welcoming place, but it felt like comfortable when it's the two of us. A small private place I knew I was safe in, being reassured by him. But where was he that night? I've never been alone this long. At this point I would feel his breath on my skin, his hood in my sight covering what I knew was a beautiful face, such beautiful as the hands that caressed me kindly, controlling my fears. But he wasn't there. And I felt real panic for the first time.

A thunderbolt struck at the entrance, the door swinging open, a loud crash breaking my eardrums. I jumped from the corner I was curled up in, the light blue flash barred my eyes as they widened. Where was he? Did he leave? After all this time, did he grow tired of me? I shoved my face behind my legs, tapping my ears as strong as I could, a scream growing inside my lungs to overlay the sound of the thunders. It wasn't helping. As I screamed, the thunders grew louder, the flashes like a constant light in the night sky. I was alone. My angel wasn't with me. It felt infinite. Everything was stirring inside me as the wooden cabin seemed to shrink all around me. I needed him.

I first scouted the grave yard at night: it was quiet. White, grey, musky tombstones surrounded me, but it felt peaceful, not as gloomy as I thought. Having my flashlight helped, but I already was reassured that there were no real monsters ready to swallow me at once. It was like having a walk at the dusk or right after a night out, I paced between the stone parallel lines, keeping an eye out for the borders, where bushes and tree could hide something suspicious.

It was true, the moon was reflecting enough light to add a veil of grey light on top of the world: it was marvellous. I followed the soft breeze, scouting the slice of terrain. Some stones catched my attention, but their names and number didn’t. I avoided entering the small chapels, but I tried to get a look from outside anyway. Nothing out of the ordinary. And even if some names were strange and old, they couldn’t lead us anywhere. I really hoped Angie would find what she wanted to get close to see slash find an angel. Or maybe we were just getting too obsessed and we had to stop before going crazy for real.

A branch snapped on my right, catching the flashlight and my attention. It was exactly like that night. But that time Angie said it was nothing, probably an animal. Was it really? Or a person? Was it running from something? Trying to get some attention? Well, Angie. This time I would gather my courage for once and try and find out. I moved to the bushes at the entrance of the small forest, and the sound repeated itself. I stepped over the small bushy line, now I was the one doing crunchy noises under my feet. I kept my pace as thin as possible, my flashlight pointed down so I wouldn’t scare whatever that was. I was getting further from the church and the graveyard, the yellow building growing smaller as I looked behind. The stalk wasn’t long, and the cracking also stopped. My foot stepped on a softer, mossy area, as if water was nearby. I finally raised my eyes, too focused on the terrain I was walking on and how not to make any noises. A decrepit wooden house was standing a few meters from me, the woods right behind it. But a small grassy plot and a pond was right next to it. It was it. It was that cabin, the one I always dreamt of. Was this the signal I was looking for? Were my dreams really connected to angels? If not, what? I held my breath, before finally stepping quickly towards it. I looked all around me, recreating the trail I followed to get here, I had to go back somehow. I took out my phone fast to save the location, that would surely help also make my way out tonight, and keep it for future reference.

I stared at the front door, a couple of boards snapped and tore apart, but it was still holding strong, just like in my dreams. I pulled it lightly, and it felt like when I rushed to get in during my sleep, but this time no thunderstorm, no natural elements were forcing me to enter. It was my will. I froze on the spot, my eyes widened.

He was there: my hooded dream.

His form leaned back on the table by his hips. He was tall, taller that how he looked during my dreams. The black thick cape covered his whole body, the big hood hiding most of his face, his profile jaw barely showing. I would definitely scream if I didn’t know this feeling. I was safe. And he was there, for once, in my real living life.

I stepped closer, the timber squeaking under my weight. I was slow, maybe I was scared that if I got too close, he would disappear. I instinctively pinched one cheek, maybe I passed out in the graveyard and I was actually dreaming. I checked my watch, time was passing by. It wasn’t a dream.

I had so many things to tell him, so many questions to ask, but no words were able to escape my mouth in that moment. My eyes felt watery, my lungs trying to catch a breath very hardly, my heart beating so fast I thought it was going to stop suddenly. I wanted to touch him. Talk to him.

I raised one hand, finally able to reach him. He didn’t move at all since I arrived, but I felt his weak breathing, his chest raising and sinking under the big cape. I placed my palm on his arm, my fingers curling around the fabric, his skin cold under my touch. He was real. I kept my stare on my limb on him, gasping for air as he stayed immobile.

“I... You... Really?” I couldn’t express myself properly, I just wanted to feel him in real life beyond my dreams. I moved to his front, his head bowed. I acted like I would anytime, slipping my arms under his, squeezing hard the fabric on his back. I could finally feel what I was touching. Resting my body on his, I finally sensed a reaction. His arms raised to me, a smooth movement on the small of my back. I held my breath, embedding my face in the curve between his neck and shoulder.

“I don’t want this moment to finish.” I finally said, giving words to my deep thinking. I felt his grip tighten on my back, his other hand raising to gently rub my nape, a shiver crossing my spine, his cold fingers sending small bites on my skin, as he played kindly with my hair, wrapping it around his fingers. Nothing could tell me this wasn’t real. I rose my head, finally ready to talk, but with no intention of leaving his hold.

“Can you talk?” He shook his head. Just like in my dreams. I guess some things needed to stay the same. I tilted my head right, determinate to at least see his face, or part of it. 

“Can I meet you here in the future?” I then asked urgently. The man cocked his head as well, but I was able to get a glance of his lower lip curling up, then he nodded. I knitted my eyebrows in the middle, feeling like I could cry. If I was able to meet him again out in the daylight, I could get more answers, more physical contact with the dream I always craved. But this time, I wasn’t limited by fears. 

“Are you really the person I meet in my dreams?” One single nod and I truly smiled, feeling as a heavy weight was finally lifted from my soul. I squeezed hard on his back, flattering my chest on his. 

“Uh, it feels so weird to have you here. I never thought this place really existed, that you existed. Maybe I should have tried to search, but now I don’t really care. I feel so lucky.” I let it all out and sniffled my head back on his chest, inhaling his scent. It was fresh, like a salted sea breeze, but a cinnamon touch on top. I was allured to it as much as I was to him in general.

But I knew I was running out of time and I couldn’t waste more of it with questions he wouldn’t answer if not by two head moves. I wanted to see him.

I glanced back at him from my lower level, rising one hand to his face. He jolted back for a second, as he was scared of my touch, but then relaxed. I didn’t move, waiting for him to get comfortable again. I felt his breath on my hand and so I went back on track. The tips of my fingers crawling up in contact with his cheek, a silky skin I never sensed before. It felt unreal to be touching him. I slightly put pressure on my tips, cupping his face to turn it to me. He did resist as I groaned in disapproval. Just a little bit more. He turned more to me, finally able to his full lips clenched together, opposed to what I wanted to do. By surprise I moved my face closer, higher. And I saw them. I didn’t see his face, too dark inside the cabin to get a full image. But his eyes. Long lashes framed their thin shapes, where deep, bright crimson red feline pupils where centred, staring right at me, penetrating with such a meaningful and caring glimpse, that I felt my heart ache. Was he my guardian angel in the end? I felt guilty for making him do something forced.

I suddenly left his embrace, lowering my head and biting my lips. Such beautiful eyes, and he didn’t want me to see.

“Sorry...” I said bringing my hands clasped together to my heart. “I really mean it. I was so curious after all the nights we spent quietly together, I wanted to know more for once. I wanted to see your face.” The last thing I wanted was him to resent me. “Are you my guardian angel?” I finally asked, sighing. 

I rose my gaze, staring at his hood, knowing I will never get a chance to see his face again, or any part of his body.

But then, a gentle wave went through him, and he shook his head, slowly. He wasn’t. Then, who was he, actually? And how did he get in my dreams every time? He wasn’t human, that was for sure, but what was I missing?

“What are you, then? What are you to me?” I scoffed out, tears going back to the surface. It was stressful not being able to get answers. If he wasn’t a guardian angel, why stalk me in my sleep, share those private moments with me, like I was the most important person to him. “Talk to me!” I shouted, as one single tear shredded out of my eye. If I was finally able to get him to me in real life, I had to make him talk. I deserved some explanation, after all this time especially.

But apparently not that night, as my phone vibrated in my pocket. By the time I snoozed the alarm I set earlier to get back and turned up my gaze again, there was no one in front of me.

He was gone, and with him all my answers. I ran out, faster as I could, feeling afraid for the first time of that cabin.