Nine-year-old, Sarah belted out “Believer, Believer” by Imagine Dragons, a song quite close to her heart as she chorused with her father when he was alive. This time her mother, Barbara, sang in unison. Sarah looked at her mother who seemed to be happy after a long time since her father died in a car crash two years ago. Racing across the highway, they were on their way to “Moonlight Lodge”, a cabin nestled in Whistling Woods that her mother recently inherited from her late Uncle Joe. A breeze of cool air from the briny coastline made Sarah tingle with joy. It was a few hours before her mother took a left turn and entered the cobbled driveway.
The handsome cabin nuzzled in a canopy of lush leafy trees was picture-perfect. Newly renovated, it had a modern feel to it. As Sarah entered the cabin, the piney smell of the logs greeted her. Warm and cozy, the little rooms were inviting. She chose the room on the first floor and settled in. Pushing open one of the windows, she let a gush of cool, woody air wash over her. Tired from the long journey she made herself comfortable on the bed and soon dozed off.
It was six in the evening when she woke up with a start as the cabin was besieged with the warbling of avian visitors. Quietly, she slipped downstairs and out into the driveway.
A dense wood stretched on one side of the path and at the other side stood the cabin. The verdant woods seemed inviting and friendly as the furry creatures scurried and scampered around.
“Sarah, don’t go far. Not into the woods. Just play outside.” her mother’s voice rang out from the kitchen window. Sarah nodded and shrugged but walked across and through the narrow trail leading her deeper into the forest.
By now, the tall trees towered over Sarah murmuring vicious secrets. It was another thirty minutes before she stumbled upon an aging treehouse. Gingerly, she climbed up. To her surprise, the cabin was clean and spacious enough for two to sleep in, even with a chest of drawers and a dresser. She smiled when she saw a ragged life-size doll in the far corner. The doll with a blank stare and a vacant smile wasn’t attractive but not ugly either.
As she scoured the treehouse, she noticed an array of dresses that looked like ones she would find in a doll house. They seemed a recent addition unlike, the treehouse. The dresser looked ancient like the forest but the intricate details still stood out. Notwithstanding the urge, she brushed off the dust and started dressing up the doll in a rosemary green dress. Soon she braided her long, tawny brown hair with matching bows and buckles. Time passed so quickly. Next, Sarah made her wear a beautiful vintage emerald locket. As soon as the locket clicked in place, the doll’s eyes started to glow BLOODY RED. Scared she pushed the doll away and the doll seemed to glower at her.
Sarah left in a hurry as a morbid song rang through the air and the doll let out a devilish chuckle.
Meanwhile, at the cabin, Barbara waited impatiently for her daughter. It was unusual for her to be late for supper. Today she had made Sarah’s favorite dinner, spaghetti with meatballs. She waited for some more time before looking for her in the woods.
As she entered the woods, prickly thorny bushes which lined the trees seemed to spring up on her. An unearthly odor surrounded her. Far on the hilltops, a jackal howled. It was a mourning howl. Lumpy knots formed in her throat even as she desperately hoped she would find Sarah.
She stumbled upon a ragged doll. It looked identical to Sarah. Terrified, she glanced at the lifeless figure again, she cringed it could not be possible. Was this Sarah? The doll wore the same clothes as Sarah and even the same hairband. The doll looked so much like her. Yes, it was Sarah. But how can it be? She looked around; an uncanny feeling washed over her when she felt eyes watching her. With a trembling heart, she scrambled back to the cabin clutching the doll close to her chest.
Helpless, Barbara stared vacantly at the forsaken woods. Lost and fretful, nothing made sense. It was a big mistake to come to the cabin, she thought. Now, she had not only lost her husband but her only daughter. She felt so alone, so desolate.
Listlessly, she rummaged through the cabin, cupboards, and cabinets looking for some explanation, some fix, some solace. Just then, a shiny chain caught her attention which was wedged tight at the far back of the chest. As she nudged and pushed, a vintage, emerald green locket emerged. She hung the necklace around the doll’s neck.
In a blink of an eye, the lifeless doll turned into a living, breathing Sarah. Ecstatic, Barbara hugged Sarah so tight,
“Mom ! Stop! I can’t breathe!” exclaimed Sarah wriggling out of her embrace.
Without losing a moment, Barbara hurried to pack. She decided to leave immediately before she lost Sarah again to the creepy woods.
The Bentley spurted to life and Barbara zipped out of the driveway and didn’t stop until she reached their house in New York.
For many days after, Barbara had nightmares and would wake up with a start, screaming for her daughter but her daughter was safe and sound in her cozy bed or so she thought!
This is a story written by Agastya Shah, age 9 years, encouraged by Magpie Writing Haven who conduct creative writing classes aimed to foster creativity, improve writing abilities, and help individuals develop their own distinct writing style.
Read more such stories written by kids by visiting their website on
https://magpiewritinghaven.com/stories/
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