When the lighter sparked aglow, the light shot outwards, illuminating every corner in the cottage. The golden brilliance that flickered in my hand reached an impressive circumference and touched the edges of many strange, various items that were spread about. I took a few moments to recollect the events of my night thus far, which included calming my nerves and gathering my wits. I surveyed the cottage very closely.
In the smack dab center of the cottage was the biggest pot I had ever seen. Actually, it was a cauldron. A very, very big cauldron. Around the cauldron were stands that held towering candles. There was a chair at the back of the cauldron which had old blankets draped over it. Everything was absolutely plastered with dust and cobwebs. In the very back of the cottage were large bookshelves lined with books, old wooden boxes and even small bottles with quarks.
Everything was just so interesting.
I began to closely examine everything and anything.
In truth the cottage looked like something one would see in a old horror movie. We did not own a television at home, but that couldn't stop me from watching the movies teachers played for us at school. The more I thought about it, the less my life made sense. I was a complete prisoner of God at home, but I was not forced to attend any overly-extensive religious schools. It seemed rather crooked.
I moved around the room, slow-paced closely studying every object that met my eyes. You could say that the cottage heavily intrigued me.
I discovered a set a stairs, indicating that there was at least another floor. Half-smiling, I mounted the creaky stairway. I was unconcerned with any racket I made- by the looks of this place, no one had stayed here in a long, long while. I ascended, holding the lighter close to me. My hands had warmed up significantly, just with the heat from the tiny flame.
The second floor was not nearly as impressive as the first floor had been. Why, the second level was one big room, sectioned off into three alcoves. One-half of the room was dedicated to one alcove, and the other half was split down the middle, making it into two perfectly even alcoves.
The bigger one was off to the left. It contained a huge four-poster bed, which held beautiful blankets crafted of green and of purple. A hefty oak trunk was placed at the foot of the bed. Mounted on the front of the trunk was an immense lock. I gawked at it curiously. The lock was most certainly hand-crafted and very old. What irked me the most was that the lock was designed similar to a single eye. The eye was in a closed position, but the whole aspect of it was so lifelike that I actually expected it to open and start blinking at me.
There was also a small writing desk in the corner, which was piled high with many dusty books.
I moved to inspect the other two alcoves. They may not have been as big as the one across the way, but each one was delicately decorated with items of corresponding colors. The one closest to the staircase was draped in everything red, covers, blankets, pillows. And the other one was an untidy mess of pink and white items.
So people once had inhabited the cottage- and by the looks of things, they had been female.
My parents were probably at home spazzing over the fact I had not yet returned. They probably had the authorities out looking for me, and I could guarantee my mother had not seen me run into the woods. I honestly had no idea what I was to do thus far, but I knew one thing was for sure.
I would stay the night in the cottage.
I set to work making it as comfortable as possible. I began by wiping out the old hearth and starting a fire with pieces of wood I broke off an old stool I found in the corner. Soon I was toasty warm. It got to a point where I even took off my thin jacket and hung it on a nail by the front door.
After warming up for a couple of hours, I began to yawn. I headed up to the second floor, and headed for the hugs green and purple four-poster bed. I stripped all the bed clothes from the mattress- which I discovered was stuffed with straw and looked hand-stitched. I opened one of the second floor windows and began to flap the dust from all the fabrics. The view from the window was absolutely serene. What little moonlight there was reflected off the running water in the creek below. The shadows of trees shook in the wind. But the best part of it all was the silence.
I re-made the best, and dusted off the posters with an old piece of cloth I found. The bed was not perfectly clean, but it was clean enough for me to deal with for one night.
Without hesitation, I climbed into the gigantic bed, and sprawled out my sore legs and soon I was fast asleep.