The Cabin

​There would often be a misconception when it came to the cabin. The cabin was not haunted or attacked frequently by an axe-wielding psychopath. The cabin was, in-fact, a paradise for all those who went there. I used to work there as a camp counselour. So many kids would run up and down its stairs, back-and-forth, screaming and laughing. Now, when the world seemed to have ended, it was empty as my fridge. I sat in this cabin waiting for Death to come and take me, but of course, he never did. Not like he did for the rest of the world.

​I was alone in every sense of the word. There were no animals and no people. I came to the cabin to escape the silence and perhaps hear the sounds of birds once more. Of course, I wasn't so lucky. There wasn't even the familiar hum of insects. There was nothing but wind through the trees, which alone isn't so soothing. The cabin first seemed a paradise, walking down to the river to swim without fear of a vicious pike or even stumbling across some other wildlife that would make your life a living hell. However, without the life of animals, insects or people, everything natural began to decay and with that thought I was fast losing hope in even having grass to eat one day.

There it was, the breaking point. The point of hopelessness where you wonder if you are big enough to take a world on even when there is nothing inherently against you. Well, I felt in that moment I wasn't big enough. I felt I was the last human, punished for some past sin, to roam around till I starve to death. Now, the world was still green, but the signs were there. I was giving up, letting nature run its course with me as the resolution to my own fate.

However, even in their darkest moments, a human has the ability to survive. I saw in the cabin a potted plant, drying up slowly, but beside it was a small watering can. There is always hope and when you can't rely on nature to take care of itself, you must take care of nature. I began watering whatever plants I could by using the water from the river. I passed time doing this, but I was still in the end, hungry. You may think that would have been the end of me, dying while helping a plant live a little longer, but as I said, even in the darkest moments I found a way to survive.

Foraging isn't so difficult in a bountiful forest, but you can only survive on berries and wild nuts for so long. I read the many books we had provided the children and made scavenging trips back to the city. I collected seeds and farming equipment by the truckload. Before I left on my last trip I payed a visit to the electronic store and retrieve some choice items. The next day I was assembling a greenhouse, munching berries and mixed nuts, all while listening to the most soothing music. I let the melodic musician sing his song while I hammered at the poles and placed the glass. It was delicate work and many times I felt it was a two or even three man job, but with a little ingenuity even the weightiest task can be lightened.

I slept so deeply that night, a sleep I hadn't felt since I was a teenager, passing through the night and morning to wake up only at noon. It was blissful and therapeutic. I had many nights like that. A few days later and I had completed the green-house. I surveyed my work with a proud smile, knowing I took my time and did everything right. It was built to last, but if anything went wrong I had all the right materials and then some to fix it.

Pots, soil and seeds. I had planted everything I could every eat in that green-house and taking care of them became a happy chore. I still felt my stomach rumble for foods that weren't grown in the dirt. I desired meat, but I had very little options in my situation. I still desired a conversation with someone else, but once more, a conversation with myself was the only option. These small desires filled my life for so long. I believe a good two years passed before I had fully realized I no longer remembered the taste of meat and lost the words for conversation. I felt another unsettling silence in this world, although it wasn't due to the lack of life, it was due to lack of thought.

A man's willpower is truly challenged in times like these, but eventually life becomes so abundantly simple all you can do is thrive in the situation you are in. If your mind doesn't thank you straight away, your body will. The mind will grow to understand. I sit now, fourteen years older since this all began, writing my story staring out at a sunset that I had seen to many times. I know now that there is more in this world that people and animals can offer. There is more in a man than he fully realizes. I have grown to accept the man I was and the man I became.
I have read many books, which was the closest I could ever get to conversation with another person. In these books so little payed in heed to the idea that one of the fundamental needs of every person on this planet is to grow and become their best self. So many have died in the pursuit of other desires, but in the end they died unhealthy and hating the way they are. If not hating, regretting so many decisions they made in life. I have come to learn it never mattered what you did, you are who you are and the sooner you realize the better it will be for yourself. It is a lot easier to realize this when not under the scrutiny of another person, but I still believe it would be possible if the world still had life.

I leave this message now for myself. I thank you for who you are. You have done things right, you have done them your own way. Even the decisions you made due to others you made because you are who you are. Thrive in the peace of your own making, you earned it.