Awake in the Woods
Victoria awoke abruptly, startled. She whipped her sleep mask over her head. Her dim surroundings seemed eerily unfamiliar. Of course, because they were. It was one of those experiences that people find so unbelievable in the movies—when a character bolts straight out of a deep sleep, eyes wide open, not a trace of torpor left to be found. But why had she woken up?
Andrew, her husband of four years, was softly snoring beside her. Granted, he was usually a heavy sleeper but so was she. Something had disturbed her. She peered through eyelids that seemed to weigh more than the ankle weights she’d used earlier that evening during an online Pilates class. A shadow of their Doberman, Abbott, stood at the sliding glass doors—black fur prickled, on-guard, a low growl escaping his powerful jaw; a jaw that could kill at a single, swift command.
They were at a rented cottage, deep in the woods. It was the week of Christmas and they were devastatingly alone. The roads were desolate, as they’d noticed on a jaunt to the grocery store, and most neighbors had returned back to their homes in the city. Andrew, who claimed not to fear anything, insisted they stay. Actually, he’d insisted on the whole holiday. She’d had an ominous feeling about being so isolated, so far from home—even if this particular house had been her idea after hours of searching on Airbnb—but she trusted him and let herself be convinced. What was the worst that could happen? Perhaps they’d run out of firewood or use up all the hot cocoa powder too quickly or find that the bed was a little too firm for their liking.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to get away for awhile? I mean, really get away?” Andrew had proposed, a few weeks prior.
“I guess so,” she’d agreed, taking a sip of rosé.
“We work so hard, babe. Let’s relax, just you and me. And the dog.”
“True, but why can’t we just relax here? We have everything we need.” Victoria had gestured around their cozy living room: worn-in . . .