So this is my contribution to MayaLala's 'Cabin' contest. It's only short and I kinda cheated (shhh) you'll see why when you read it, but I do at least mention 'A Cabin in The Woods' so I think I can get away with it. Anyywayyyyy, enjoy :)
The Metaphorical Cabin in The Woods.
When Nick Miller was younger and he was having a bad day, his father would watch as he stomped around the house, yelling at inanimate objects and kicking everything in sight. He would watch as his son's face flushed red with anger; would watch him begin to struggle for breath and he would watch as finally, he succumbed to his fatigued muscles and threw himself down on the porch steps outside their house in defeat, angry tears pooled in his eyes. His father would let him cool down before he approached, silently joining him on the steps and patting him on the shoulder in what was meant as a comforting gesture.
"The world's not out to get you, Nicky." He would say, and Nick would always remain quiet; staring at his bunched hands on his lap and willing the tears in his eyes not to fall. "Sometimes it'll feel like it is," his father would continue, "But it's not, and you've got to remember that."
He would get up then, leave just as silently as he had come and Nick would wipe the salty tears away with his sleeve and return inside the house. His father never acknowledged that they had talked; it was almost an unspoken rule that it would never be mentioned and yet, every time Nick found himself on the porch steps after a bad day his father would appear and utter the same words to him- always the same words, every single time.
The world's not out to get you, Nicky.
Nick was repeating those words feverously to himself as he stormed into the lobby of the loft's building. He had uttered them first that afternoon when his car had failed to start and he had been late for work; he had said them again when his boss had cornered him in the break room and called him irresponsible and useless; they had been repeated once more during his walk home when there was a loud rumble from the black sky above and it had starting raining mercilessly, soaking him through within seconds.
It had gotten to the point when the words were beginning to lose all meaning.
The ding indicating the elevator's arrival vibrated around the otherwise silent lobby and he listened to the persistent squelching of his sodden shoes on the linoleum floor as he headed for the confinement of it. His eyes closed on instinct as the doors closed and he felt it moving upwards in the shaft, and for the first time that day he stopped repeating the words to himself, letting the anger slowly wash over him.
All damn day he had wanted to just let go and lash out, to curse the world and the way it was chewing him up and spitting him out. He had wanted to kick his car to a pulp when it had failed to start; he had wanted to shout at his boss, ask her who the fuck she thought she was to judge him and the way he lived his life; he had wanted to scream up at the sky when it had begun raining, yell out to whoever was up there to just once- just fucking one time- cut him some slack. He hadn't of course; he'd just repeated over and over again the same words his father used to preach to him when he was a boy. The problem with that now however, was that he wasn't a boy anymore and his father couldn't pat him on the shoulder and attempt to reassure him in his own way- he was a grown man, and his father was dead, and the words he was repeating to himself felt old and empty.
The world's not out to get you.
Bullshit. The world was destroying him, slowly, piece by piece. He felt lost; it was like it was dark, and he was in the middle of the woods with no way out- no one to call- and he was just standing there, alone, waiting to succumb to the blackness.
He jolted slightly, almost unnoticeably, as the elevator came to a stop and he forced his eyes open and stepped out into the hallway. His feet moved as if on auto-pilot to the door of the loft and his hand moved to his back pocket, pulling out his keys and placing them in the lock. He found that on opening the door however, the loft was not bathed in darkness as he had expected. There was, in fact, a harsh glare coming from the television screen in the corner of the room, although the set seemed to have been muted, for the room was silent.
Momentarily, at least.
His gaze shifted to his dark haired flat mate on the couch, her form slightly illuminated from the light coming from the television. He found it strange that he had not noticed her sitting there straight away.
"Jess, why are you sat alone in the dark?"
Her wide eyes met his then; and they were glazed over, they looked almost hysterical.
"The light switch was too far away." Her voice was slightly high pitched as she spoke, and her eyes darted briefly to the corner of the room before resting on his again.
"Too far away?" he repeated, and he tried to keep the condescending tone out of his voice with little success- he had suffered through a hard day, after all.
"I didn't wanna walk all that way in the dark," Jess supplied, and he saw her eyes zip around the room again.
"Why?" he sucked in a breath as he spoke, he had a feeling the answer was going to be nothing short of ridiculous.
"Zombies," She whispered frantically.
And there it was.
"Zombies Jess, Zombies? I don-" he paused mid-sentence and sighed. He had been about to shout at her, yell at her for being stupid, take all his anger that had built up inside of him throughout the day out at her, but he had found himself truly looking at her, taking her in for the first time since he had stepped through the door and the anger had suddenly left him. She was sat with her slipper-clad feet on the couch, her knees pressed up against her chest and she had a wooly blanket wrapped around her like it was a second skin. She looked- in a word- terrified.
"What happened Jess?" he said instead.
Her doe-eyes dipped, looking at her knees for a second before she spoke. "I may have watched a scary movie."
Nick groaned audibly. "Why would you do that Jess? You know they terrify you." He dropped his keys on the counter to the side of him and began striding towards her.
"I don't know," she shook her head. "I was trying to prove a point to myself I guess, that I could watch one and not get scared."
He reached the couch and placed himself down next to her, turning when he was sat so that his full body was still facing hers. "I think the only point you proved tonight is that you should never be left to watch the TV alone."
"I can watch some things by myself," she protested lightly.
"Jess, youused to have to get me to watch Desperate Housewives re-runs with you, and I'm fairly sure that show is not supposed to be scary."
"Hey," she grumped, her scared demeanour seeming to lessen slightly, "Stuff went down on Wisteria Lane that was not natural!"
A small smile graced his face as he shook his head. He was not indifferent to the fact that it was his first smile of the day. "What did you watch exactly anyway?"
Jess reached behind her and handed him a DVD case, he found it was almost comical that she wouldn't even look at it, as if even the case itself was scaring her.
"The Cabin in The Woods," he read out loud, "I heard that this wasn't even that scary-" his comment earned him a glare from Jess and he stopped talking immediately, placing the DVD case back down.
"I can guarantee you that it was." Jess huffed, scrunching up her forehead so that two deep set lines appeared in between her eyebrows; Nick found had to stop himself from reaching out and trying to smooth them with his fingers. Instead he raised one solitary eyebrow at her in what he hoped was a dubious look. "Do I need to mention the zombies again?" she continued, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring again.
Nick didn't want to tell her that her attempt to look menacing was seriously dampened by the fact that her voice had yet to settle down to its usual pitch and she was still wearing her blue fluffy slippers.
"No, you don't have to remind me of the zombies Jess," he goaded her lightly. "The sight of you huddled up on the couch looking almost manic and whispering 'zombies' will probably stay with me for a while." He shook his head in amusement. "It was a near perfect impression of the boy from The Sixth Sense."
Jess shoved him. "Don't talk to me about that film Nicholas! That film is the whole reason I can't watch horror movies! I slept with the light on for weeks!"
Nick gave her an unconvinced look, "Weeks Jess, really?" he rose up from the couch then and went to move away from her, stopping when he saw the look of panic cross her eyes. "Relax, I'm gonna go turn the light on, and then I'm gonna make you some tea to calm you down."
Her shoulders lost some of their tension then and she seemed to relax into the couch. The corner of Nick's mouth twitched upwards as he watched from his standing position as her eyes began to flutter shut. It was then that a down-right wicked thought entered his brain and he moved silently round to the back of the couch, moving his head close to Jess' so that his lips were at her ear. He took a breath, willing himself not to chuckle at the situation and then in a feigned strained voice, he whispered "I see dead people."
The unrestrained scream that escaped Jess' lips was loud enough that it probably woke up people sleeping in buildings blocks away.
They walked down the corridor to their rooms later, Jess nursing the mug of green tea that Nick had made her and Nick nursing a black eye from when Jess had panic-punched him in the face.
"I still protest that you don't deserve an apology," Jess insisted, motioning to the ice-pack that Nick was currently holding to his inflamed eye.
Nick used his one good eye to glare at her. "You punched me!"
"You scared me!"
He shook his head, but a smile was involuntarily coming to his lips. "I gotta say Jess, if there ever are any monsters or zombies or ghosts coming after you, punching them like you just did to me would definitely deter them."
Jess beamed. "My punching skills have definitely improved."
"Undeniably."
They'd both reached their respective doors then and Nick had turned his back to open his when he heard Jess speak.
"Hey, what was up with you earlier?"
He spun around. "Earlier?" he questioned, a smirk on his face. "Jess, you punched me, I thought we had just gone over this, you can't have forgotten already."
She shook her head, taking a sip from her mug of tea as she did so. "No I mean earlier tonight when you first got in," she clarified, "You looked, angry."
Nick grimaced; he had almost forgotten the vulgar mood he had been in before.
"Nothing much," he shrugged off, "I've just had a rough day, that's all."
A look of understanding graced Jess' features and he felt his breathing stall as she reached forward without warning, taking hold of the ice-pack he was holding and removing it from his face. She moved towards him then, reaching up on her tip-toes and placing a chaste kiss on his swollen eyelid.
He knew a noise had escaped his mouth that he would regret immensely come morning when he was- no doubt- over-analysing this moment, but for now he couldn't bring himself to care, he simply watched, wide-eyed and open mouthed as she leaned back again, a shy small playing on her features.
"I'm sorry you had a bad day, Nick."
And then she had disappeared into her room and he found he was staring at her closed door. He let his fingers move up to trail the part on his ever-tender eye where her lips had been moments before and he felt a grin appearing on his face as the words he had been repeating to himself all day re-entered his head.
The world's not out to get you, Nicky.
No, he pondered to himself as he let his gaze drag over her closed door, maybe it wasn't out to get him after all.