I screamed and - a short story by Aileen Cleave

I SCREAMED AND…….

I hadn’t planned on spending the night alone, not in this Godforsaken place, miles from anywhere or anyone.  Well, I hadn’t planned on being here at all, actually.  Greg had insisted, more than insisted, almost forced me into the car, citing our urgent need to talk.  Precisely what I wanted to avoid.

We had driven in total silence, up, up and up the mountain as I watched the terrain become wilder and ever more deserted.  His brother’s lodge was buried deep in the pine forest and in any other circumstances, I would have considered it idyllic.  But not today.  On reaching the lodge he had immediately produced papers for me to sign.  I’d been signing quite a few papers recently, and because I was so preoccupied with the business, I hadn’t demurred. Until this time.   I said I wanted to read it first.  Quite unnecessary, he assured me, just routine ordering of supplies.  Something in his manner made me uneasy.  Just let me cast an eye over what I’m signing, I replied.  His sudden fury astounded me and we had a terrible row.   My mind was still numb from the shock of hearing the accusations he’d thrown at me, before storming out to the car and tearing off, leaving me standing perfectly still and bemused (and, of course, stranded) in the kitchen.

I became aware of the approaching twilight and looking through the small windows, the pine trees looked oddly eerie.  Childhood lines came back to me “Dark behind it rose the forest, rose the dark and gloomy pine trees “.   Enough! I told myself sharply.  If I have to stay the night, certainly until his anger subsides, I’d better check things out.  

There was a chill in the air now and I headed to the door intent on finding firewood before darkness descended totally. I pulled the door first and then I pushed it but it wouldn’t move. I went to the back of the lodge but the only other door was just as stubbornly stuck closed.   Swallowing hard to control a feeling of rising panic, I tried both doors again, then turned to the windows.   With something like horror, I noticed for first time the metal bars, the rejas, on all the windows.

In an effort to think coherently, I searched the kitchen for the oil lamps that I remembered from my last visit.  The cupboards were depressingly devoid of anything resembling a light or even a candle and the blackness of the forest night was descending fast.  Real fear was taking hold of me now, my initial anger totally subsumed by the helplessness of my situation.  

It was now pitch black.  Not a thing could be seen inside nor outside the lodge.  Had there been a moon the pine trees would have blocked it’s light.  

Suddenly, I heard the sound of a car.  Thank God!  Greg had calmed down and had returned for me.  With this thought came pure rage.  How dare he do this to me!  The car stopped and I waited - and waited. What was he doing?  I’d heard him get out of the car and then nothing.  

I started calling, then shouting, yelling.  Nothing.  I became aware of a crackling sound, then frighteningly, the pungent smell of fire.   A terrible realisation came to me.  I screamed and my insides melted.