The photographer

She was finally at the spot she had been trying to reach for the past hour. The view was perfect and the sun was just right. There were long pine trees all around her and 200 meters away from her was an opening between the trees were the light was shining through on the lake. It was beautiful and she had hiked to this spot for the sole reason of taking a photograph of that specific view. It was just as she had remembered it. 

A month ago, Sandra’s mother had died and she was stricken with grief, unable to get out of bed. It was sudden and she never thought that a person so full of life could suddenly have it taken out of them. Nobody had seen it coming. 

After weeks of bed rotting, her roommate Fiona had finally had enough of Sandra’s self-pity, and basically told her to get her shit together. She wasn’t the first or last person to lose a loved one and she needed to figure out a way to get through this, Fiona pushed her. 

That day, Sandra finally opened her drawer and took out the picture she had hidden there after her mom died. It was the only picture she had of her. She gently ran her thumb over her mom’s face. Her mom was smiling and her eyes were sparkling even in the photograph.

She remembered that day like it was just yesterday even though it was fifteen years ago. They were at the beach and though the sun was high and strong to make it too hot, there was a gentle breeze that made it just right. They had a picnic on the beach with homemade turkey and cheese sandwiches and fresh pomegranate juice. Looking back, it wasn’t the best idea to have a picnic when the air kept the sand thrashing about. The breeze kept throwing sand into their eyes and mouth. But it hadn’t bothered them at all, they just laughed at each other every time it happened. Her mother always had a camera and she was always taking pictures of the views as well as her and her sister wherever they went. As a result there were hundreds of pictures of her and her sister but the only picture of her mother was the one she held in her hand. Her mother never liked to be in photos but she loved to take them.

That day at the beach, Sandra had begged her mom to let her take a photo of her. Sandra cried. She still couldn’t believe she had lost her forever. She never thought she would live in a world that her mom wasn’t in. She was her everything. Her mom loved her and her sister so much and she knew that if she would see her this way, it would break her heart. 

In that moment, she decided the only way for her to move forward was to take the same photos her mom had taken. In that way, she would connect to her and honour her. 

Her mother loved nature, especially waterbodies. She never missed a chance to take them somewhere new over the weekend, whether it be a beach or a lake. So most of her mom’s pictures showed lakes or beaches as the centre of the photograph. She especially remembered one photo with a lake surrounded by pine trees. It was golden hour when they had reached the spot and it was the most beautiful view she had ever seen. That photo had captured the beauty of it perfectly. 

This is how she ended up here deep in the forest at that exact spot. Luckily her mom always wrote the timestamp and location on the back of the photos she took. 

She set up her tripod and camera and placed her eye on the lens. She could see the trees aligned to the lake perfectly and the sun was just right, just like in her mom’s version. Steadily, she placed her finger on the shutter button and as soon as she snapped it, she felt an ear-splitting thump on the back of her head. That’s when she passed out. 

Next thing she knew, she woke up in a small den. It smelled like rotting wood and the faint smell of urine. It was dark and she could barely make out her surroundings. Through the limited sun coming through, she could see the floor was filthy and there were small patches that looked like dried blood. 

She then heard clanking coming from the corner and saw the back of a tall man. The hairs on her arms rose. She tried to move, to run, but saw that her arms and legs were tightly strapped to a chair. She felt her mouth covered by industrial strength tape. She began to tremble and whimper as she tried to grasp the situation. 

It seemed that her whimpering was loud because her aggressor turned to her in that moment, holding a scalpel and some scissors. “Oh good, you’re up,” he said smiling. He looked like he was in his sixties, his eyes were a mix of yellow and red. He looked like the devil. He was over two meters tall. “I was so pleased to see a fellow photographer out here in the woods, especially a young and beautiful one like you. No one comes around here anymore. People just don’t know how to appreciate the beauty of nature anymore. Always on their phones, living in a fake digital world. Now they have virtual reality, can you believe it? They are literally living in an artificial world. It makes me sick,”paused her aggressor, sighing,“and they take screenshots and snapshots of these fake lives and worlds, thinking they’re actually adding something to the world.” He took out his camera and a photo book. “Oh but not you, there’s still hope for the world after all. I’m a photographer too you see,” he held up his camera proudly, and walked over to where she was strapped and opened it for her to look. She tried to move away but couldn’t. She was stuck. Her eyes fell on the photo book. There were photos of young people splayed on the floor with the light just right illuminating the horror in their open eyes. Their cameras had been thrust into their cracked jaws.

Tears began to fall out of Sandra’s eyes and she tried to scream but all that came out were muffled moans. She knew she would be next. All she could do is pray. I’ll be with you soon mama, she thought as she closed her eyes.