The Lakeside Cottage

 This is a short story I started as a free-write.  I liked it so much that I continued adding to it and came up with this.  It is not finished, so I will continue to add parts as I come up with more.  By the way, it is loosely based on a true story, most of the images are pretty exact.  I will warn you though, the story-line is highly exaggerated to make it more interesting.

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We walked down the street toward the woods.  When we got there, we stepped into what we consider to be the “good woods” because there aren’t many briars and prickly plants.  We walked quickly through the woods, stepping over small trees, dodging low hanging limbs.  We continued until we saw the road.  Once we got out to the road, we looked for cars, and then dashed across quickly.  There it was.  We could hear the water flowing down the rocks into the shallow pool.  All around the pool were beautiful pink flowering trees, which smelled like sweet honey and yellow Jasmines.  To our right, we noticed actual Jasmines, covered with bumble bees, which were pollinating and eating all of the honey dripping from the flowers.  Around the edge of the garden were birdhouses, filled with songbirds singing beautiful, flowing songs and building their nests.  There was a large wooden fence across the back, and over it we could see a gazebo.  Hanging from the roof of it was a bamboo wind chime, rattling back and forth, making a sound that made me feel as if we could just lie down and sleep, right there in the perfect cut grass. 

Then, after about five minutes of staring in awe of the garden, we turned to the left.  There was a large lake, and I noticed after a minute that there were bubbles coming up on the edge.  I wandered over to see where they were coming from.  Then I saw them.  Turtles.  There must have been forty or fifty, all swimming near the edge, mouths open, as if they wanted something.  I realized suddenly that they must be hungry.  I reached into my pocket and took out the only food I had, one small packet of Saltine crackers.  I opened it up and broke them into smaller pieces.  I threw the pieces out as hard as I could, so they would go into the water, against the breeze.  At once, they all raced toward the crumbs, clawing and biting, in a desperate race to eat.  I couldn’t help but feel sorry for them.  I continued to through in crumbs and watched them eat until I ran out of crackers.  When I stopped throwing, they all looked at me expectantly, waiting for more.  I felt horrible to just walk away, but I had to. 

We walked back through the garden, looking around.  As we got to the edge, almost to the road, I stopped.  In the corner of the garden, right near where we had been standing, there was a little cottage.  I hadn’t noticed it because the side was covered in Wisteria, growing around the windows and onto the roof.  What’s in there, I thought.  I had to see what it was.  Slowly I turned toward it, and started to walk over.  I almost forgot that my brother was standing with me.

“Where are you going?” he asked, obviously tired and ready to go home, “I want to go home.  It’s a long walk back through all those woods.”

“I know, but I want to check something out,” I said, pointing to the house.

“What is it?” he said, stepping closer, as if he was afraid.

“That’s what I want to find out, stupid,” I said, turning and walking towards it again.

“That wasn’t nice – but I guess I’ll come,” he mumbled, starting to follow behind me.

I stopped and waited for him to catch up.  We continued walking towards it, the whole time wondering what it was and who lived there.  As we approached the side, I motioned for him to stay where he was.  I snuck silently around to what I thought was the front of the house.  There was a large door, facing towards the lake.  I mustered up the courage and got closer.  Just as I got to the door, it suddenly opened.  I had to hold my mouth to keep from screaming.  I was afraid to look up and see what it was that was standing there, hoping and praying it was some nice old man.  Sadly, I was mistaken.  I slowly looked up, and when I did, I wished I hadn’t.  Standing in the doorway was a hideous old woman. Her eyes were beady and sticking out of her head, her hair was white and a jumbled mess.  She was much shorter than me, but I didn’t want to have to fight her.  The look on her face said it all. 

“Get out.”

“I-I’m sorry?” I stammered, trying to find the words in my mouth.

“I said get out.  Go away and never come back.  Don’t feed my turtles, don’t come in my garden.  Just get away,” she said, staring at me, “and take the other one with you.”

I turned and ran.  I ran so hard that I couldn’t feel my legs, my brother right behind me.  He was more scared than I was, for he had heard the woman, but not seen her.  I imagine he probably had concocted a horrible image in his mind, of some monster or giant.  As we raced toward the road, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye.  There in the other corner of the garden, were two gravestones.  I was so scared and running so fast that I couldn’t read what they said.  It didn’t even register that I had seen them until after, when I was going over the whole event in my mind.  Could these mean anything?  I couldn’t figure it out.  When we arrived back at our house, me and my brother made a pact not to tell anyone what had happened, or where we had been.  We rehearsed our story so when our parents asked, we could fool them easily.  That night, I went to bed without supper, to distraught to eat.  But after all that had happened, all I could think was, I have to go back and see what the gravestones are, old lady or not.  This was just the beginning of our adventures…