"The ol' John's place's been outta repairs for far too long, eh?"
The rugged man had his lower jaw visibly shifted to the right as he said that.
"It's live-able?" I asked.
"Figures. They don' make ya gals much tough these days," he scanned me up and down.
The man was in his fifties barely.
"It takes longer than that to fuck up perfectly fine women, I'd say," I said as I towed my luggage to the almost run down cabin I had purchased on a whim.
"As ya wish," the man turned around, not much impressed by the response.
Inside the cabin, I could see the much needed 'repairs' the man mentioned. It wasn't really a very proud investment of mine to buy this clear pile of wood they called a cabin.
When the ad came on Instagrem, I figured it was a 'view-stunt'. Turned out it wasn't. It was plenty real as I could turn on the very hastily installed lights.
The windows, a singular one in the bedroom and the skylight, were made up of poorly constructed wood frames with ruggedly cut glass.
The skylight had a blue tinted glass. It gave the whole cabin a gloomy aura like a funeral was about to take place.
The bedroom was the only well maintained and luxurious space in the cabin. A cozy wooden bed with a handmade mattress. There were seven deep lines etched into the wall above the bed. A weird stylistic choice, maybe.
I threw myself on the bed, exhausted from the long journey. It wasn't easy finding the place as it was deep within the woods on the outskirts of a suburban village. Serwood, they call it.
There was just a sink and propane stove in the name of a kitchen. And I certainly wasn't expecting the bathtub and storage attic from the outside.
I was particularly warned about the occasional bear visits and deer fights(?) in these woods.
Going out at night was certainly a death sentence as temperatures dropped idiotically low and a lot of creatures of prey lurked around.
I was told about the tiny 5 square feet basement accessible by a drop ladder from one of the kitchen cabinets. That was the place where I was supposed to hide in case an intruder or animal attacked me.
"Keep ya' ol' guns down there," the man told me.
Quite redundant as I don't own any firearms.
Firewood was to be collected from the forest. I was advised to keep a week's worth in stock as it rained here for at least that long whenever it did.
The cabin was surprisingly warm. I only needed to keep the fireplace or even the propane stove running to keep the house warm. It being incredibly tiny probably helped. The fireplace was in the bedroom at the right side of the bed.
I could see the sun setting from the window in the bedroom. The house got gloomier as the daylight got dimmer and dimmer.
I didn't have the energy to eat or wash up. I just laid flat on the surprisingly comfortable bed.
I felt at peace.
I could feel myself drifting into sleep.
This place was a dream come true.
For me, it was perfect.
You could ask why I, a 22 year old college student, bought this cheap log cabin in the middle of nowhere?
The answer is simple.
I came here to die.