Chapter 15

Ava continued to stare at the open front door for what felt like ages. Her mind desperately wanted to find the next course of action. Her gut told her to run for the hills, and her curiosity begged her to stay. Whatever she chose, she knew that she would regret it either way.

She could not think of a good option, and to be frank, she didn´t believe there would be any.

Her fingers drummed against her thighs as she tried to think, but her mind could only focus on the decomposing smell which seeped through the open front door. Frustrated, Ava shut the door and walked away from the porch where she had been standing for ages.

She ended up pacing around the grass in a circle as her mind roamed free. No matter what her curiosity wanted to find out, her gut told her not to. Each time she found herself looking back at the front door, it took every ounce of restriction she had to look away. Ava had no idea what she wanted to do or what she should do.

If she walked away, she could miss vital clues to figure out what was happening. If she walked back inside, she would have to embrace the idea that there was something more, something more between heaven and earth. Whatever it was, it was begging for her to take another look inside. Yet, she did not want to get dragged into something which wasn´t her business. Even though it already was.

She had been framed, accused, and hanged for being someone she was not; when someone else was. She wanted to find out who had put her in this position. Even though she knew no one would believe her if she ever concluded on an answer.

Her gaze wandered back to the front door as she thought back to the bookshelf. It was the only thing that stood out in the cabin. Even though having someone replicate every square meter of her home stood out on its own - having a bookshelf with different books was the odd man out. Maybe the books contain a clue? Naturally, one would think so. Worst case scenario, the person who built it did so on purpose.

A frustrated groan left her lips as she tilted her head back. She desperately wanted a clue. If someone could tell her what they wanted from her, she would have been better off. The sky above her had gone from bright blue to a dark grey ominous color which resembled nothing but a rainstorm on its way. Ava tilted her head forwards before looking back over at the cabin.

She could steal the books. No one would notice.

Ava found herself standing in front of the door, once again. She drew in a sharp breath to gather some courage. After doing so, Ava secured the cloth around her nose and mouth in a desperate attempt to keep the smell out. Every ounce of courage she had once gotten disappeared as she stood inside and looked at the all too familiar living room.

Her heart dropped to her gut as she could easily visualize her parents sitting by the fire, talking, or reading books with herself running around trying to find something to be entertained by. Ava had to force her gaze away from the couch and over to the bookshelf. Determination took over her, and she walked over, grabbed a book, and headed back outside.

Once she came back out, it was pouring down outside. Luckily enough, she had been smart enough to move her bag under the roof. She didn´t necessarily want to eat soggy bread. She placed the book on the porch under the small roof. Ava opened her water bottle before walking out into the rain and leaving it there open.

She sat down with her back against the wall and opened the book. She was desperate for a clue. As she opened it to the first page, she realized that she held a diary in her hands. It was handwritten with a beautiful cursive, which stayed perfect for the pages she read.

She continued to read. After a day, she finished the first diary and went back inside to find a new one. She continued to read diary after diary, neither containing any clues. Every single diary entry focused on the progression of their sickness, alongside regrets they had.

The perfect cursive continued, but at times Ava could tell that whoever had been writing had struggled. Some diary entries were shorter than others. At most, it was two pages long. The shortest one she had read was about two sentences long.

Ava hadn´t thought about how much time she had spent reading the books. When it was sunny, she lay outside in the grass; when it rained, she stayed under the roof but spent minimal time inside the cabin. The only times she went inside was to find food in the kitchen or grab another book. Ten minutes tops.

She had no recollection of time until she looked out at the once green garden, which had a light layer of white on top of it. She shut the last diary before sighing. There hadn´t been a single clue. Nothing. She had just spent months trying to get through them, reading back, following up something which could have been a clue to no good. Everything had been a dead end.

Frustrated, she threw the diary across the garden. The book dragged some snow with it from the first place of impact before landing a few feet away from the green spot. Ava clenched her fists and tilted her head back to let out a frustrated scream. There was nothing. Nothing told her why the cabin was a replica of her home or why the woman had died. They didn´t explain the runes carved in the trees. They didn´t explain the forest having a life on its own.

Had she gone mad? Did she believe occurrences that weren´t true?

With her mind clouded with anger, she walked inside the cabin and looked at the bookshelf. Anger boiled in her veins in such a way that she was sweating. Her hands grabbed the first book she laid her eyes on before throwing it across the room. Sweat poured down her nape as she used all of her might to move the bookshelf in an attempt to throw it across the room. That´s all she wanted to do.

Frustrated knowing she had wasted months of her life, and by being blindsided, she started to tug at the bookshelf. Curses and swears left her lips as she called out to whoever was playing a sick joke on her. It couldn´t be more than a sick joke. Completely submerged in the boiling rage, she didn´t notice how much the bookshelf had moved until she was staring at a dark hole beneath it.