What did I see? What did I hear? If I could answer any of these questions for you I would, but I can’t. Sometimes there’s just things in this world that we don’t- can’t understand. Or maybe our minds just don’t want us to understand. Either way, I have no idea what I saw or heard that night in that cabin. I’ll tell the story to the best of my recollection, but honestly, I can’t bear to remember some of the details. 

Me and my girlfriend Jane wanted a week away from everything. The work, the stress, the bills, the money, we wanted a break! All we wanted was a break from the stresses of life, but I’m not sure whether or not we got a break. Jane told me about a wonderful cabin she had found that we could rent out that weekend! It seemed so perfect, like it had come into our life at just the right time. 

That weekend we drove the 40 miles to the cabin, listening to our “Ramones” CD on constant repeat. She looked so beautiful in the twilight, her big brown eyes shining in the last of the sunlight, her long black hair flowing in the wind. I miss her so very much. It feels like a piece of my heart has been ripped from my soul. I’m getting off topic, aren’t I? Yes, on with the story. 

The picture of the cabin must have been ten years outdated, because this thing was a shit heap. Rotting wood, decaying door, all that jazz. The door almost broke off the rusty hinges as it squeaked open. I shivered at the noise, but Jane seemed elated, so I pretended to be too. We brought everything inside and settled in for the weekend. In our first moments alone, nature ran its course on us. After we were done and had settled down we had dinner. We brought Hamburger Helper from home to cook, but the damn stove wouldn’t light. Good thing we brought some chips. 

After the sky turned an inky black, we just lay beside each other, admiring the beauty of nature. *Knock knock*. What the hell was that? I looked over at Jane, and she had the same puzzled, albeit terrified look on her face. It didn’t happen again, so we just didn’t think anything of it. We went back to talking and admiring the beauty of the night sky. *Knock knock*. I was getting annoyed and frightened at this point, frustrated because I couldn’t figure out what the hell was making that noise! 

“I’ll be right back, okay?” I reassured Jane. She nodded in agreement. 

I walked around the side of the cabin, running into a spider web on the way. I shook it off and turned on the flashlight on my phone. I looked around and searched for what could be making the knocking sound. I didn’t find anything, so I went back to the front of the cabin where I had left Jane. She wasn’t there. 

I called her name, tears in my eyes. I called and called for her, but I never got a response. I looked off into the distance near the road, and I thought I saw something. All I could make out was the shape of a man, but nothing more. The shadow was an odd black color, darker than the black you or I would think of. The tears made it hard to see, and my uncontrollable shaking didn’t help. 

“Whatever you are, get the hell out of here!” I shouted in anger and fear. Whatever it was retreated into the darkness. 

I went back inside and cried myself to sleep with some help from my good friend Jack Daniels. I awoke with a hangover, made worse with the heartbreak I had just felt the night before. I went into the bathroom and washed my face. It was then that I heard a dripping noise in the shower. I opened the curtain as fast as I could. Someone had left the tap on. 

I walked into the bedroom and found Jane. I can’t say that, because this wasn’t Jane anymore. All of her bones and organs had been taken, leaving behind only her skin. She looked almost like a sheet. I wept at the side of the bed for what felt like hours. 

The police saw the state I was in and ruled me out as a suspect immediately. They gave me sympathetic looks, which I returned with teary, blurred eyes. Jane’s body was taken away, and I haven’t heard any news about the event since. 

I feel awful, like I should have done something more to help her. I don’t even know what I mean by that, but I never should have left her on the porch like that. I don’t know why she didn’t scream; maybe she did but I didn’t hear her. I wish I knew what was responsible for what happened to Jane, but I can’t say that I do. As I sit and type this in my empty apartment, I feel the sorrows of one thousand men. I wish I knew.