| Current mood: |  devious |
| Current music: | Garbage, Only Happy When it Rains |
The Cabin
Well, after the house I wrote about, which I had to move out of due to some roommate and money problems, I moved up to Tennessee to stay with my mom in a charming cabin built in the 1800s.
Charming, sure. Whatever you say, Mom.
My first night there, I went up to the loft to sleep. The bed there was an antique iron bed that was almost as old as the cabin. Well, I was beat after the very long drive, and quite happy to climb under the covers. The light was shut off and I was glancing around the unfamilair room, feeling a bit maudlin about having to move, when a dark shape loomed over me. It bent down and I felt a tremendous force pushing me down. It was ice cold and I couldn't breathe, couldn't shake him off. I finally wriggled enough to gasp out for help and my mom came rushing up the stairs. As soon as she flicked on the light, the force dissappeared leaving me panicky and gasping for air.
I lived in that cabin for four months and never set foot back up in that loft at night, and only during the day maybe three times. (Twice to chase out a bird that flew in and wouldn't leave, hmmm.)
I slept on the couch, and tried to sleep in, going out job hunting and doing chores later in the afternoon. Well, that was the plan. However, every single morning at eight a.m. the side door would unlock itself, the handle would turn and it would open. Every time. It was difficult to get to sleep after that, obviously. The few times I tried, I would be woken by a loud bang against the window, only to see a cardinal slam itself into the glass.
After a month of this, I was pretty good about waking up before eight, and I went outside to gather pecans. (Yum, the yard was covered with the tasty things).
I walked out and immediatly felt like I was being watched. I looked around and didn't see anyone, so I resumed my picking. After a while, the feeling still hadn't gone away and I looked over to the bushes where I thought I saw a grocery bag caught in the tree. Well, it turned out to be a barn owl, sitting out in broad daylight and staring at me. I watched it for a while, thinking what a cool bird it was and went on with my day.
The next day I thought it had left, but when I went to check out the tree it was in, I found it's body lying on the ground. It hadn't been wounded.
There were several nights were I would be woken up by all the dogs in the neighborhood howling at once, then stopping all at the same time.
Like the last house, objects were constantly being moved or coming up missing. There was also faint sounds of whispers from upstairs when no one else was there, and the sound of bootsteps on the stairs in the night.
One day, I got curious about the presence in the house and decided to try out something. I made two cups of tea, both with loose leaves. I sipped mine quietly and left another cup set out on a try and invited the presence to share a cup with me.
I sipped for an hour, then read the leaves. Not too much revealed, I was a bit distracted admittedly. But then I read the cup I left for my "friend". Wow. From the leaves I gathered he was a farmer, and a bit of an introvert. He didn't care to have to share his home with so many women, but was looking forward to something.
Well, my mom almost immediately after found a new house that she loved, so we could move. I got to meet the landlady, whose family had built the house way back when and she talked about her father. The farmer, who was always extremely punctual and a bit of an introvert.
I can't say I miss the place, but it certainly was interesting.
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