Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25414153-20140913230130

Five years ago I moved into this cabin, I know what you are thinking, but the house wasn't the problem. I wish to hell that it was, but no such luck.

Anyway, I'd just gone through a bad breakup with my fiancee of the time and needed a new beginning. We had tried to make it work, but that only made it worse when the time came to go our separate ways. So I decided to move away, to just drop everything and go.

Where? even I didn't know.

I was driving through the Dresden Woods one day when a for sale sign caught my eye. I drove up this driveway to be greeted with the most beautiful sight a man nearing middle age can see. A little log cabin nestled in a clearing surrounded by thick forest. Pine needles littered the ground and smoke was coming out of the chimney. For me it was love at first sight. I knocked on the door and had a chat with the owner, a guy about my age. We set a price and within a month I was out of the city and unpacking my stuff in my new home. It felt like a new beginning of a new life for me.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened following the weeks that I moved in, the cabin was perfect. Peaceful, not a soul around for miles, and best of all it let me focus on my work, writing thriller novels. For the first time since Sara and I broke up, I felt...happy.

But that didn't last long.

After the first month I started to feel lonely, and there was also this other feeling creeping up on me. Foreboding.

Now, don't get me wrong; I had absolutely no idea of the events to come. But every now and then I would feel this foreboding just...creep into my mind, but at the time I just put it down to my overactive imagination and watching too many cliched horror movies.

The weeks passed, with me getting deeper and deeper into my self induced exile. I did go into the city to occasionally catch up with my friends but those visits came further and further apart, I started to bury myself in my writing. With the foreboding feeling slowly getting stronger with each week that passed.

Then it happened.

It started off as an ordinary morning, I woke up, had my morning dose of coffee and cereal, and checked my answer machine for any messages from my editor or publisher; the novel I was working on was nearing completion and they were pushing me to finish it as soon as possible.

Instead I got a voice message from Sara.

'Hi Evan, it's Sara,' she began. 'I just called to ask you how you are doing? I hope that novel of yours is nearly finished. Anyway I've met someone'. She paused and I could hear her catch her breath, 'Mack's a good person, Evan, you'd like him. Anyway, he just proposed to me and I said yes. Please understand that I need to be happy too...I thought you should know, give me a call back as soon as you can'. She hung up.

Bile rose in my throat and I had to grab the side of the bench to stop from falling over as my legs suddenly felt like they were made out of marshmallows. A million thoughts raced through my head and I decided that I needed to take a walk to figure out what to do next.

A few hours later I was walking along this old hiking trail, deep in thought, when I heard this sobbing coming from nearby. I pushed aside some bushes and saw what appeared to be a young woman in a blue dress sitting on a log. She was hunched over and had her face buried in her hands. By the look of her shoulders, she was crying her heart out about something.

Now, me being also not in my right mind and not wondering why someone would be out here in the middle of nowhere, let alone a young woman wearing a dress, naturally walked to her.  