After the uneventful, rainy seven days, the weather had become colder.
The cabin was relatively warm and that led to a lot of small animals camping out in the attic.
One of them was a cat.
He was pitch black and liked to sneak into my bed at night for warmth. He didn't seem much older. Like 2 or 3 years old.
He had these brilliant tropical eyes. I couldn't quite figure out what colour it was. Green? Blue? Or grey?
They seemed to change all the time.
I called him 'Cat'. The lack of creativity seemed to disappoint him.
Cat was a good companion. He didn't need me to feed him and took care of his business himself. He wasn't messy and kept himself clean.
I'd say he lived cleaner than me.
He made waiting for death bearable.
He'd occasionally bring me fish he hunted from nearby.
Maybe he was a pet cat before because I clearly believe he had tried to get me to cook it for him.
He shares food with me.
I sometimes think he sees me as his female or child. He always has this obnoxious look of a provider in his eyes.
And just like this, a month had passed since I came to the cabin.
I had become fairly accustomed to the cabin life.
One thing I couldn't get used to was the lack of alcohol.
But I couldn't afford to drink again. I came here to die, not to become insane.
And it was true that since I've been sober, I haven't seen anything odd anymore.
I believe it really was a drunken stupor back then.
Unless someone was really desperate, no one would come to this remote and gloomy cabin.
I went down to the village twice after the first time. I saw the little girl.
Her name was Anne. She was the butcher's daughter. Her mother died last year.
I didn't make enough friends to tell me this, so I heard it directly from her.
She seemed awfully calm talking about death.
"Don't you feel sad when you think about your mother?" I asked her.
She kept on nibbling her chocolate. Her eyes were unfocused.
Ah. It's not that she isn't sad. She's just trying not to address the issue.
How pitiful.
"Sadness becomes a lump in your throat if you don't let it out."
I don't think she heard that as she was now running towards something… someone. Pardon my myopic vision.
It was a very tall individual with dark hair. He had sunglasses and a face mask on. He seemed oddly familiar.
"Is that your father, Anne?" I yelled as I stood up to approach them.
"No, he's Cat." Anne yelled back at me.
I froze.
It's creepy that a random dude has my cat's name.
The man was now looking at me. Little Anne looked even more little against his giant figure.
He picked her up and she whispered something in his ear.
Nearing me, he let Anne down.
Anne waved me goodbye and skipped away.
"Go straight home, Anne!" I turned after her to see her home.
Yank!
I felt a hand on my arm.
I gave the coldest glare I owned to that man.
"Do you live in the cabin up the hill?" The man asked.
I had heard his voice before.
"What is it to you?" I yanked my arm from his hand.
It was a huge fricking hand for a human.
"I've heard bears live near that cabin. You should be careful."
I stared at his white mask.
"You seem more fucked up than the bear. Take the hint and fuck yourself off," I said as I darted.
Creepy ass dude.
"Why did you throw the stew? Did you not like it?"
I stopped. My heart was pounding in my ears. I turned around and looked at him in absolute silence and rage.
I scanned around for anything I could use as a weapon. That dude was huge. I had no chance of winning otherwise.
I thought that stew guy was just flirting. But this dude was a whole ass stalker.
I clutched the mosquito repellent in my pocket. It was a tin can.
It wasn't much but it would surely buy me some time.
The guy didn't move. He kept looking in my direction. I couldn't read him as his entire face was covered.
"Anne told me you buy her chocolate," he said at length.
He removed his mask and I could see the lower half of his face.
That white ass face was the same as that day in the store.
"Did you go into the cabin?" I asked.
Maybe I wasn't delusional. Maybe what I saw was real. There really was a man in the cabin that day.
He kept silently looking at me.
I couldn't see his eyes and his face completely still.
No emotions at all.
"You liked the bear more." I heard him mutter to himself.
I felt a sudden dropping feeling in my chest and darkness engulfed my eyes.
I was fainting.
Why now?
I need to run. Cat is waiting for me. I need to get out of here.
…
…
…
But why?
I came here to die originally. Isn't this working out in my favour?
I let go of my consciousness quite easily after that.
I felt a ton of different things. Like I was in a daze in the rainbow.
I fought for a beer bottle with Cat.
Things were muddled and mixed in.
And then I woke up.
In the cabin, on my bed. Cat was perched beside me in the blanket.
Something smelled nice.
I groggily rose from my bed and went to the kitchen.
There was meat and vegetable stew cooking on the propane stove.
On the table beside the bench were two plates full of fried fish.
A huge black coat laid beside them.
I heard hasty footsteps from the door and it flung open as a man walked in.
Eye contact was immediately made.
"You're up?" The guy said nervously as he strongly held the hot water bucket in his hand and a towel in the other.
My towel.
"Get out," I said.
"Wait… let me see you eat before I go," he nervously said as his giant figure struggled to move in the tiny cabin.
The cabin had never looked smaller than now.
He hurriedly ran towards the bathtub, bumping his head on the doorframe.
He put the water inside the bathtub and turned to me.
"Let's eat together, then you wash up and I'll leave."
He seemed to have a few screws loose.
That isn't something you tell someone you just kidnapped to their own house.
He was behaving awfully familiar, like he had been there before.
"This isn't the first time you entered this place, is it?"
I asked.
He froze. Pale and yellow from panic. I looked at his eyes. I recognised something.
I had seen those eyes before.
In the dead rabbit's eyes.
"You're the bear," I said.