Creative Writing: The Cabin

Improved Essays
There was always the cabin. Always the darkness outside of it, the calendar on the wall, and the flickering bulb

But some things do change. There were more of us once. Gumpaw and Gamgam for starters. How we cried deep sobs of anguish when they could not be saved. Too slow, too feeble. Father can only do so much, he is already spread so thin protecting us that nobody blames him for what happened.

Out the window I can see other lights in the distance, spread out like strange constellations. Other cabins I think. But day by day, the lights go out. Many hundreds when I was small, just a few dozen now. Our own light, a single worn bulb dangling on wires from the cracked ceiling mount, is still going strong.

Even so, every so often it flickers. Goes dark for just the briefest moment. That’s enough for it to get in. We only survive because Father is so quick with the axe. It’s shaped differently every time, perhaps trying
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Several days have passed with no improvement. He lay in bed, simple grey sheets up to his chin, and whispers for me to come near. “This is why I told you that you must grow stronger. This was always going to happen someday. You can only protect so much with the strength you have. Eventually it takes away whatever you can’t.

But, there’s something I haven’t told your sister or Mother. I kept it from you until now because you were a boy. Now, however I’d like to give you more years as a boy, you must quickly become a man or all is lost. The walls will close in as you lose power against the darkness. Mother and sister will be taken even as you watch, powerless to stop it.”

I teared up, remembering too late how he doesn’t tolerate tears but also realizing he couldn’t see them. “What is it Papa” I whispered to him, clutching his cold hand. “Is it what waits for us outside in the darkness?” He weakly shook his head. “You’ll discover that for yourself soon enough. No, it pains me to say it’s something much worse. Look at the

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