A Dreamy Oasis

I feel a bead of sweat form and then run down my neck until it hits the edge of my damp tank top and disappears. My skin is hot and clammy from the heat of the sun. I take a moment to look up at the sun’s position, I squint and brush aside my sweat-soaked hair as I try to determine how long I’ve been walking. The cicadas are screaming around me, and I can smell summer in the air. I’m surrounded by tall tree trunks and a leafy green covering. I can just make out the sun through the leaves and see it’s starting to fade west. I estimate it’s been about three hours since I left my parent’s cabin. I’m training for an Ultramarathon and know even this short break to catch my breath will affect my upcoming race. After my breath slows, I stab the makeshift walking stick I found a couple miles back into the dirt path in front of me and continue on my hike.  

A couple more miles pass, and up ahead the thick brush of wild raspberry bushes and tall pines and oak trees start to clear out. I approach what seems to be the end of the forest and find myself staring at an open prairie field. The grass is overgrown and whips with every gust of wind. Across the field I can see one little house, sitting alone in the vastness.  My mind begins to wonder as I envision the lives of those who might have inhabited this quaint home. I see a young couple newly moved in, outside their new home, spinning around holding each other, in love and ready for their new adventure. I see a dog darting out of the doorway, tail wagging nonstop as it runs down the stairs of the porch and into the open field, only to stop suddenly before turning back with excitement, taking off towards the young woman holding a tennis ball. I see picnics, gatherings with family and friends, and small children running through a sprinkler playing in the yard with their dog. I see this young couple growing old and building a bright and warm world together with their little home and family. As I stand envisioning this little oasis, curiosity overtakes, and I start to make my way across the field to the house. 

The sinking sun has brought on a cooling breeze, and with every gust my damp hiking shorts and soaked tank top brings a chill to my body. As I get closer to the house, the hair on my arms begin to stand tall. The house is slanting, the foundation worn and giving in to what’s been carried inside. The wood siding of the house is rotted and moss has taken over in areas. The two windows on the first floor have broken glass, and what used to be a window upstairs is now just a gaping hole in the wooden siding. As I look in, I can see torn fabric blowing over the windows when the wind gusts through. Beyond the blowing fabric, I cannot see anything. The house is dark and appears empty. I turn my head slightly to the yard and see that a lone tree next to the house has a tire swing hanging from it. Another gust of wind blows and the tire swing moves gently in the breeze. I shiver and suddenly am overwhelmed with an eerie feeling. It’s a feeling like I am not alone here.

I look around again and suddenly I am running, running as fast as I can from the edge of the yard to the bottom of the wooden steps that lead up to the uneven porch. My legs keep moving until I am standing on the porch just outside the door of the home. I stop for a moment though the front door is not closed. It’s been left open, or pried open, and the gapping entry is wide enough to allow creatures in and out. I peak in and see the remnants of a living room: an old, dirt covered coach with torn cushions, a coffee table that has been pushed over and is laying on its side, a lamp in the corner of the room with its shade tilted, and old articles of clothing have been tossed and are lying on the floor. Almost as if I’m no longer in control of myself, like I am being drawn in by this house, I push the front door open further and step inside. 

It’s moldy, it’s damp, it’s chilling. What remains of the disappearing sun outside lights up the floor just by the windows, everywhere else in the room is dark and hazy. I cannot make out anything, the edges of the room are completely hidden in the darkness. Still, I walk in further, past the dismantled sitting area to a sturdy oak desk on the other side of the room. Previously hidden in shadows, I can now see there is a broken picture frame and inside a faded 1930s photo of a couple sitting on the desk. There is also a stack of books covered in dust, and a piece of paper that’s been written on. I lean so far into the desk my nose is nearly pressed against the page, the ink is smudged and faded but I can make out some of the delicate and swirly penmanship: 

“I can’t stay here anymore… if I stay I fear I won’t be alive much longer. It’s getting worse, and it’s the worst at night. I can’t sleep. The noise is too loud and overwhelming and it won’t stop… I can’t breathe during the day. Something is here, it’s suffocating. I’ve asked Tom about it and he just shakes his head at me and chuckles. I’ve pleaded with him, I’ve tried to show him. I’ve told him we need to go but he won’t. I don’t know what to do. I know we aren’t safe here anymore…” 

I feel something almost like an exhale on the back of my neck, I jump up from the desk and turn back around towards the sitting area of the room. It’s gotten even darker, I can no longer see. I stumble forward and my feet graze something on the dirty wood floors. I look down and see it’s a teddy bear that has been shredded, only the ears and part of the body remain. 

I stumble again, my breath begins to constrict, my inhales become short and quick, and my legs feel like jello. I try to turn around but the darkness of the room has me lost. I’m in the kitchen now I think. Where is the front door? I can’t see it, it's too dark. And then I begin to hear it. I hear what she was talking about in the letter. It’s a screaming, so overwhelming I cannot think. I take my hands to my ears as I try to block out the noise. I wrap my arms around myself and buckle over. Maybe if I make myself smaller this noise, this shadow, won’t get to me anymore. It doesn’t help so I try to stand again. I close my eyes and stick my hands out in front of me to feel around as I try to move forward, try to find the way out. I run into the coffee table and know that I’m getting close. Finally my hands touch the wall, it’s slimy but I don’t care. I keep my fingertips running along the wall as I move forward. The screaming has become so loud it feels as though my head could explode. My feet shuffle along the wooden floor boards. Finally my fingertips push past the never-ending wall and are met with open air. I pull my hand back, open my eyes, and dart out of the opening. 

The screaming begins to fade as I charge down the steps away from the house. My legs can’t carry me as fast as I’m pushing for and I fall forward and tumble down into the field. Quickly I flip myself back around to face the house. I look down, my legs are covered in dirt and grass, my hands are dusty and there are splinters stinging into my skin. It’s completely silent now and the air is still. The wind has completely dissipated and I hear no wildlife, not even a bird or cricket. I look back towards the house, but the darkness outside makes it look as though the house has disappeared. I place my hands down into the grass and push myself back up to standing and begin to brush off some of the dirt and grime. There’s a slight hum again, quiet and slow at first but as I stand there it gets more powerful and more alluring. It’s pulling me back where I just came from. I can feel that eerie presence again. I know if I stay a minute longer this dreamy oasis will pull me back into the depths of its shadow again. Quickly I pull away and turn back to the forest, back to the trail that led me here, and take off running as fast as I have ever run before.