Cabin In The Woods

by Kristine Robinson

  “You are a bossy little baby.” I declared, as I walked over to her and hugged her. "Thanks for helping out with Sarah, Mom," I commented, smiling warmly at her. “I’m almost done with a new commission. This one is worth enough to get Sarah the expensive diapers for the next couple of months!”

  I could remember when she was just born. When I hid her from my family for as long as I could, it was only because I was afraid they wouldn’t forgive me. They’d kick me out and call Sarah a bastard child! I would be homeless, poor, without anyone to lean on, and without a college degree to get a good job.

  I didn’t get it when they found out? First of all, my psychic Aunt Liz – that wasn’t even close to her real name, but no one who knew her real name would say it, saying they cared more about their skin than about whoever is asking - was the one who told everyone. She still lives in Trinidad, but she called us on the phone and told us, the part of the tree that denoted our side of the family’s newest flower sprouted a green mango. She told us that meant I was pregnant with a girl.

  That is how everyone learned. How is she always right? It is so annoying sometimes.

  Lucky for me, my family is so obsessed with children. Nobody even had TIME to be angry or yell at me because of my deception because they were busy buying new things for the baby.

  I was doing freelance work to help out, while still going to college. I needed their support financially and to take care of Sarah while I was too busy. I was so thankful to my parents to do all that.

  It didn’t always seem like I am, but I am. I can’t give Sarah the best life on my own. And I care more about Sarah than I do my own pride. It is really hard for a girl to admit something like that, but I had no choice. I had to admit it.

  “One day,” I swore to Sarah, “I’m gonna give you everything you deserve in this world. Everything.”

  Chapter 2

  It’s not as hard now than it was as first. She may be too smart for her good, and she’s a little troublemaker. She is also just as polite as you can expect a two-year-old to be and trickier than any given six-year-old.

  Tonight is gonna be my first night out with my friends in a while. Sarah is staying home cause we are going drinking. I was wearing my sexiest red cocktail dress. One of my friends gave it to me when she got it from her aunt because it makes her look yellow with her complexion.

  “Bye, mom! I’ll be back late, don’t wait up!” I called as I saw my friends parked in their old truck outside.

  “What do you mean, late?” I could practically hear the salt and bitterness in her voice. Mo – Pearl said. I call her Pearl when she gets like this because that is her first name. And right now, she’s acting more of an authoritative boss than a Mother. "You will be home at 11 PM sharp. And you will not be noticeably drunk when you get home. You are only 20.”

  My eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What are you even talking about? 11PM? Not allowed to be “noticeably drunk”? You’ve never told me this before!”

  “And look how much that worked out for me and your father,” Pearl retorted, looking down at me.

  “That’s not relevant!” I argued angrily, offended that I am not even trusted by my very own mother. “It’s not like I’m gonna get in bed with a stranger or-”

  “Amber, I’m giving you a choice.” Mom snapped, “Either you follow my rules or you get someone else to watch Sarah.”

  I bit the inside of my mouth roughly to keep myself from doing something too rash. I winced at the coppery taste of my blood. I wanted to scream and rage. I am an adult. I am a college student. Shouldn’t I be allowed to go out and actually have some fun?

  I’m not stupid enough to actually say that, though. I mean- I’m clearly not that smart. But, I know how to figure out my best choice.

  Sometimes it feels like I am not my own person. Mom controls my life now. It is my fault, but it’s still not fair. Well, considering some horror stories I've heard about people like me, it is kinda fair. It doesn't mean I cannot hate it, though. She just wants me to be better than her, not make more of the same mistakes she made when she was my age. On the other hand, I’m an adult! All my friends get to do things they like and I never do.

  But, this is the best I can do. My mom has refused to let me out with my friends for a long time. Since before she was even born, actually. It's almost like since I got pregnant, all the trust is gone. My mom has gone from being someone I can trust with anything to someone I hide everything from. I hate it, I miss the mother who believed the world in me, than someone who believes nothing about me is good.

  I have to accept it. I mean, at least this time I am ALLOWED to hang out with my friends. I had been asking for months and every time was “seriously, don’t you have a responsible bone in your body?”, “And you expect us to watch after your child while you have fun?”, or the worst one, “Maybe if you spent as much time on your studies as you do shirking your responsibilities, you wouldn’t be in this mess, hmmm?”

  All my whining and complaining about my mother’s threatening and manipulating daddy, and finally I was rewarded with one night out to the club with my friends, and I was determined to enjoy it! The thing that finally swayed her opinion was Klaire. She is such a suck up that she was able to convince my mom that I should be able to go out and hang with my friends. I don’t even get how she even did that, but I know not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  “What took you so long?” The designated driver of today snapped. She was just in a bad mood cause she isn’t allowed to drink. And she had to spend the night watching her drunk friends and making sure we don’t get into too much trouble. I mean, it’s a little too late for me, but my girlfriends are more innocent than I am.

  "Uhh, ground rules," I answered, deciding that It’s probably best to just be honest with my girls. “Mom was giving me some ground rules.”

  “Your parent’s are so cool!" Klaire commented. "I know my parents would just disown me if I ever got pregnant. They'd disown me and cut me off."

  All my girlfriends agreed, no one’s parents are cooler than my parents. If only they knew. How controlling and manipulative they could get sometimes. But, even with as annoyed as I am, I have to admit… they could’ve done a lot worse.

  I dropped the issue as we drove to the club to party.

  Chapter 3

  I broke away from my girlfriends and made a bee-line to the bar. I’m self-conscious too often. I can’t just start dancing while sober. Sometimes, a girl needs a little liquid courage.

  I’m only twenty so I still needed to use my stupid fake ID. Unlike most people, I just lied about my birthday when getting a second ID from the DMV. I didn’t understand why all the extra deceit was necessary.

  “Strawberry Margarita, and a water please.” I needed to make sure I didn’t get too drunk. I couldn't afford to be too drunk and proving my mother right. Or getting sick. Or going home with someone I don’t even know. Or being a bad example for Sarah. I am a mother, I have a responsibility to be better.

  I looked around and was looking for my friends as I waited for my drink to be served.

  I heard the clink of high heels walk next to me. “A large Coke, please.” A girl my age ordered, the voice was smooth like molasses and soft. It seemed like it was difficult for her to actually speak loudly enough for her to be heard.

  I looked up at her to greet her politely and choked on my tongue. She was… too pretty. Incredibly so. She had pale skin and a light dusting of freckles across her nose. She had the cutest wire glasses and plump lips. Her nose seemed hooked downwards and she looked rather bored.

  “Oh, hello,” She greeted, sending me an unsure smile. It made her look… really cute. She adjusted her hijab. Her outfit was cute too, she was covered in a glittery purple dress that was quite a bit less revealing than my cocktail dress, it sparkled and made her look beautiful. Her hijab had some bows that were lavender colored pinned to it,

  “Ummmm….” She looked awkward.

  Oh no. I made it awkward. I j
ust, I can’t talk to her! She’s so pretty. How is someone actually that pretty? Her lips were glittery. I wonder how they taste. No! Too much too fast, Amber. That’s weird! When my drink got to me I gulped it down. Oh good. My liquid courage. "Hi!" I greeted, my voice shrill and thin. Damn it. I sounded so bad compared to her! “I’m Amber!”

  She smiled warmly at me. “It is nice to meet you, Amber. My name is Nadia.”

  Even her name is beautiful and exotic. I feel so… uninteresting next to her. It was unnerving, usually, I was the most unique woman in the room. “Uhmmm… So are you new here.”

  She laughed nervously as she looked around. “Uh, kinda actually. I’ve been around here for a few months. A couple of my new friends were drinking.” She motioned to a group of friends. “I’m the designated driver. I don’t like the taste of alcohol in general. Also, I’m just not supposed to be drinking in the first place.”

  “Because you’re underage?” I immediately supplied.

  I was then just spending my time admiring the adorable way her nose scrunched up when she laughed. She has dimples? Oh, that's just not fair. Nobody should actually just be that cute on any normal basis. Her laugh was not what one would call melodic and smooth but it was silvery, I could listen to it all day.

  “Well, that too.” She answered after she had gotten a hold of herself.

  I smiled at her. “Uuh… so, where are you from?” I asked, staring at her inquisitively.

  “Oh, my family is from Pakistan. But, I grew up… er… in the upper east side of town.”

  Well, that explains it. Why she had such nice clothes and held herself with perfect posture. It explained why her voice was perfect, with only the hint of an accent. She had been trained since childhood to be a snooty rich kid. The kind I couldn’t stand…. But she had such kind eyes.

  “Why are you here then?” I asked, a bit miffed. A girl like her would never be interested in a poor girl. Especially a poor girl with a kid from a previous relationship.

  “Oh, well… er…” She seemed very uncomfortable by my line of questioning. She sipped her coke and turned away. She was clearly attempting to avoid the conversation, as told by just how much she was fidgeting in her seat.

  Oh no. Oh no. I didn’t mean to make things awkward or to scare her away. I am just the worst sometimes. I only wanted to… yeah, no… I wanted to make her uncomfortable. Why is that? Why am I so obnoxious?

  “I’m from here.” I immediately blurted out, trying to fill the silence. Trying to destroy the tense atmosphere that I caused around the two of us. I did this before wincing. I sound so stupid. Word vomit, that’s what that was.

  "Oh?" She questioned. Her polite interest made me blush, it was awful. "With your looks, I assumed-"

  "Yeah," I explained. "I look nothing like my parent’s. Well, I look like my mom, but…” I trailed off awkwardly.

  “That’s fascinating!” Nadia declared, looking excited. I wanted to keep talking. I needed to keep her staring at me with those warm eyes. If she didn’t, I felt like I would die.

  Nobody said I was not a drama queen!

  We ended up doing that all through the night. Just chatting and talking about everything about ourselves. She was so fascinating. She was apparently really good with her hands, but she wasn’t an inventor because she wasn’t a very innovative person. She did understand electrical circuitry and mechanics.

  Like Cinderella, I had to leave without giving her my number. Well, before giving her my number. Well, actually I just completely forgot to give her my number by the time my friends dragged me home. It’s just as well, though. She would never accept me. Even if she did, she wouldn’t accept my past. Nobody would, especially someone as nice as her. It’s a package deal. Nadia will never be able to genuinely accept Sarah.

  Not that I didn’t make the most of that night.

  At the end of the night, I ran out of patience or tact, and so I kissed her. It wasn’t ideal. Our noses bumped into each other hard and she most likely didn’t appreciate the taste of alcohol on my breath. Her lips were slightly chapped and I forgot to breathe so I had to pull away, gasping for air.

  Despite all that, I felt a spark. Or, I think it was a spark. Maybe it was just some excitement. Or maybe I was too drunk.

  I kissed her a second time as soon as I gulped in enough air to continue being alive.

  I couldn't help myself. This was most likely the last time I am ever to see that exquisite woman. I needed to impress her. If I don't, it will all have been for naught.

  She pushed me away softly. “You’re drunk.” She sounded disappointed in me. “Maybe someday. But for now.” And she was pulling away.

  And she was leaving me forever. I might never see her again. I know I’ll never forget her.

  She’d be the one that got away for the rest of my life.

  If only I knew how wrong I was…

  So I went home. I ended up telling Sarah who was almost asleep all about Nadia. "You'd love her if you met her Sarah," I told the baby as I rocked her in my arms. "She's kind and funny and smart. She’s beautiful just like you.” I told her.

  Sarah grabbed onto my shirt as she slept. I pulled the fingers she was sucking out of her mouth and she scowled momentarily, before getting back to sleep. She was such an angel. I don’t understand how I ever lived happily without her.

  Chapter 4

  It’s a shame that I haven’t even caught sight of her since that night. It’s okay, though. She was drunk at the time; I doubt she even remembers me.

  I have never been very memorable.

  She, however, was remarkable. Like a rare Pearl. She reminded me of Snow White. Skin as white as snow, with lips as red as blood. Her eyes were penetrating. Her hair was curled. It was beautiful too. With the texture of silk and painted every color of the rainbow, in an eye-catching way that only made her more and more beautiful.

  When we kissed, I felt fireworks. It was like my entire body had electricity shot through it, but instead of pain, there was only excitement.

  I felt similarly to this once before. My first girlfriend. It was not the same. Then it was the exhilaration of misbehavior, the scent I was so in love with was, what mother used to call, ‘the stench of rebellion’. My head was too fuzzy with the idea of disobedience that I couldn’t actually imagine what I was doing. The adrenaline running through my system was the thrill of getting caught.

  But Amber was so,,, enchanting. Kissing her was so similar and yet so different. It was amazing because she was amazing. The circumstances were mundane. My life is mundane. She is just… so unique that she spiced it up merely by existing.

  She twisted my world on its head in a way that shouldn’t be possible, and yet it is.

  I had to push her away. She was drunk. She didn’t know what she was doing. It would have been so wrong for me to kiss her. No matter how much I wanted to, there was no way to justify it to myself. And thus it cannot be done.

  “Nadia!” One of my coworkers shouted. “You gotta go help this one with her engine.” I walked over and sighed.

  It was almost humiliating to be doing this, but humiliating in the most rebellious way. Mom and Dad raised me to believe I am above the service industry. I am above working. I am not, however, above being kicked out for rejecting the person they chose for me to marry and wanting to go to college for electrical engineering.

  It's all fine, though. I work for this really nice man as a mechanic. He respects my choice to wear a hijab and my work ethic. He helped me get a relatively cheap apartment in the area and figure out how budget’s work. Food costs a lot more than I ever understood they did, and many of the things I thought were necessities were not necessities at all. I make $19.75 an hour, which is nothing to sneeze at! I work part time while going to school full time.

  One day, I’ll get my degree. I’ll be an electrical engineer! For now, though. I have more work to do.

  I’ll be able to do anything.

  Maybe it’s time for me to focus on my work.
I pulled away from my dreams and refocused on the task at hand. Compartmentalizing. It’s the most important part of doing my job. If I fail at that. I fail at everything.

  I walk over, only to feel my cheeks redden. It’s her. Oh, no.

  There is a rainbow haired girl standing next to her vehicle and wringing her hands. She looked really stressed out and was frowning. It didn’t mar her beauty, but I was much more concerned about how she felt right now.

  “What seems to be the problem?” I asked, keeping my voice smooth. If she didn’t remember me I didn’t want to make things awkward. And if she did remember me, I wanted her to be impressed.

  Remain aloof, Nadia. That's what attracted all the high-class boys you didn't like to you. An aura of mystery.

  If that’s what they all liked. Maybe she would like the same thing. She’ll be interested and then my aloof nature would attract her even more to me. That’s what works.

  She saw me and her lips actually curled up in an affectionate smile. Abruptly I wished I was more like my brother. He used to wax poetic in a brilliant way. He would’ve said something like her smile is as radiant as the sun itself and the sparkle in her eyes made the moon weep with jealousy. Her eyes were as green as the emeralds that one finds in a geode, that have just been exposed to the harshness of life and are shimmering in a way that they never will again. But I am not like him. I am not one to let poetry pour through my lips like honey.

  Ah, my brother. Assad. He’s the angel of our family. And the only one I keep contact with. He is everything I am not, not that I blame him for that. He is graduating medical school, as a heart surgeon. He has a beautiful wife who was handpicked for him and a mistress that he picked himself.

  I didn’t like the idea of a mistress until I met his mistress. She was everything his wife is not. Kind, and warm, and caring. His wife doesn’t care much, she just want’s to keep her fortune, and part of Assad’s fortune.