ONE NIGHT IN THE CABIN HOUSE (Completed and NOW Edited!!...)

2

They were inside the wooden house, staring around at the deserted space. Lee and Bateman had managed to convince Justine that what she'd seen earlier was just her imagination.

"Come on, Justine, you must've imagined it. We all see things sometimes," Bate urged.

"There's no such thing as ghosts," Lee added.

The room was an old chamber with a dirty window and tattered curtains. It was spacious, with a single bed and a stove. Scattered around were pictures of a black woman with three children. Bateman stared at the pale woman's face looking back at him. The children in the image looked moody.

"This must be the owner of the house," Claire said, voicing Bateman's thoughts as she shone her flashlight on the images.

"Where could they be?" Gracia asked, glancing around the place.

"This place looks abandoned. Maybe they moved out," Justine suggested, still trying to push away the memory of what she'd seen earlier. She leaned against the wall.

"If they moved out, wouldn't they take their belongings?" Lee pointed at a sack of worn-out clothes, its zipper broken. Some clothes were spilling out, while others remained inside.

"Something doesn't add up," Justine said, folding her arms.

"Can we quit playing investigators and get some rest? Tomorrow's going to be stressful, finding the car and our way back to the lodge," Claire said with a heavy sigh.

"She looks troubled," Gracia said, referring to the woman in the picture.

"Kind of," Bateman agreed.

Claire sat on the edge of the bed. "We should keep the room warm until morning," she said, rubbing her hands together for warmth. Her eyes landed on the small stove near the wall.

"I didn't bring a lighter," Justine said.

"I did." Claire pulled a cigarette lighter from the pocket of her thick coat and tossed it to Justine. Justine checked the kerosene and lit the stove.

"Eww, it stinks." Lee kicked a pot to the side, the clatter echoing. "So disgusting." He spat as he opened the pot, his face contorting in discomfort. Justine noticed and smiled.

"Be patient, Lee. It's only for one night," she reassured him.

Gracia wandered into a small inner room, thick with dust and cobwebs. She noticed some papers lying on a stool and began thumbing through them. The name "Marylou Bellamy" appeared on several sheets, signed with three different signatures. Some pages had been torn away. She read that Marylou had borrowed money on June 6th, 1689. Gracia's eyes widened in shock.

"Bate! Claire! Lee! Justine!" she called. The four of them came rushing in. Bateman was the first to arrive.

"Look at this. The date is June 6th, 1689. It's the year 2000 now," Gracia said, showing them the document.

"That's 311 years ago," Justine said, amazed.

"Yeah, 311 years since she borrowed money," Claire said, staring at the document.

"So the owner didn't move after all. She must've died here," Bateman concluded.

"Wow," Lee muttered.

"I can't believe we're in a place over 300 years old. That's why it looks so rundown," Claire noted.

"What about the three children in the picture?" Justine asked.

"They must've died too," Lee replied.

"Or moved away," Gracia suggested.