If Only

Hello readers of the interweb!

Here is the most recent short story I've written. I dabbled in a completely different genre from my usual work (fantasy and action). I'm pretty sure this was a direct result from listening to too many No Sleep Podcast episodes when driving too and from LA.
I'll talk about my writing process in a different post; for now, I'm just super excited to get out a story!

I did use a Reedsy prompt as the idea for the basis of the story (there were other requirements,  but this is the main one), and for legal reasons, I am required to put that here:

"You go for a walk in fresh snow. Suddenly you realize you're not leaving any footprints."

This was written and submitted to Reedsy prompts January 6, 2020.

Warnings:

This story features themes of smoking, alcoholism, and minor cursing. This story does not reflect the authors feelings.

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

(AKA NONE OF THIS HAPPENED AND IT AIN'T REAL)

If Only

Emi Scaeli

January 5, 2020

I think a lot about that night. The events leading up to it. I always wonder if maybe I had done something differently, if everything would’ve changed. It’s what keeps me restless. These simple questions.

          The night was Christmas Eve. It was supposed to be a fun party with family before we headed up to the cabin in Big Bear. I was looking forward to it, because I hadn’t seen most of my family that whole year. Sure, I live in the same town as my parents, but I never found much time to visit. Not with my two jobs and constant travel.

          Ha, thirty years old and still keeping relationships a secret from your family. Way to go, Emily! I thought sarcastically.

          I was driving to my parent’s house, mentally preparing myself for the certain drama that always accompanied family gatherings. My brother David was the favorite child, having found himself a wife a year ago at twenty-five, and giving my parents a grandchild soon after. The perfect little family. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my brother. But when your mother and father constantly compare two siblings, it’s easy to forget that David’s actually a nice guy.

          I pulled into the driveway and felt myself tense up at the sight. My hands gripped the faux leather tightly, and my shoulders tightened. I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

          “Everything’s going to be fine. It’s your family. They love you. You love them,” I whispered to myself, a sort of mantra to get me going.

          Two minutes later, I was walking in the door with a big shout, and my nephew was toddling over to hug my leg.

          “Hi buddy!” I detached his grubby hands from my jeans and flung him in the air. He giggled and grabbed my ears when I brought him close to my face. “Oh, you want my earring now do you?”

          “Mikey, no no,” my sister-in-law was there, trying to gently pry her son’s hands from my dangling earrings. “Be nice to Auntie.”

          “Hey Rachel,” I smiled at her. She smiled back, but something was off in her cheery demeanor. A tightening of the eyes, or a sad tilt of her head; I wasn’t sure at the time what was going on, but I know now she was trying to give me some warning of what was about to happen.

If only the warning had come sooner.

          If only I had understood it.

          Looking from Rachel, I saw an interesting living room set-up. My father was standing at the fireplace, with his back to the front door. My mother was sitting on the armchair next to him, a pensive look on her down-cast face. My brother was positively grouchy, arms crossed on the sofa, black hair spilling into his face as he glanced at my father.

          “Hey everyone…” my voice trailed off as I entered the living room. “What’s up? Merry Christmas!” I cheered, trying to lighten the mood.

          My father scoffed with his back turned. He straightened from his angry stoop, and said,

          “Rachel, maybe it would be best if you took Michael out for a bit.”

          I looked confusedly at David and Rachel, seeing her follow my father’s orders.

          “Dad, what the hell is up with you?” I blurted out. I was so annoyed at the way he had treated Rachel; I didn’t think about the consequence of my words.

          If only I had said something different.

          My father turned around, and now I could see his normally calm demeanor was changed. His face was red, and he appeared to be holding his breath.

          “Up with me? With me? What is up with you!”  He spat, barely controlling his anger.

          I took a step back. This was coming from nowhere. I hadn’t heard from him in months, and not five minutes after stepping through his door, he was already confronting me.

          “Wha-”

          “Don’t pretend, Emily,” David interrupted. “We know everything.”

          Everything? My eyes widened. What??

“I’m not pretending, David. I honestly have no clue, what ‘everything’ is.”

          Here, my mom burst out crying.

          “We know about the drugs and the alcohol, Emily. We know you’re just partying away your life. At thirty! What are you thinking?”

          Here I uttered an expletive that, under the circumstances, was very called for. During the days, I worked as a waitress at a popular chain restaurant, and at night, I worked as a bartender at a little lounge. I hardly had time for “partying away my life.” And while I did smoke the occasional cigar, I had never in my life taken any sort of drug, discounting the prescribed ones.

          If only I had taken control of the situation right then.

          “Language!” my father thundered. “You are thirty, with the foul mouth of a twenty-year-old. You have no career. No husband or, at the very least, boyfriend to speak of. You have no direction, and yet you have the gall to say you don’t have a clue.”

          “So…” I paused. The momentary shock was now giving way to a hot anger.

          How dare they! Just because I don’t have a typical relationship or career, they think I’m wasting my life?

          “So,” I started again. I could feel the sting of tears in my eyes. “You think that, because I work two jobs six days a week and have no male partner, that you know about, that I’m, what? Doing drugs? Whoring myself around, maybe?! High off my ass every night, because HEAVEN FORBID, I have a different life then you?! Really? Can you hear yourself?”

          As I spoke, my voice started choking up. I had started at almost a whisper, but there was an ache in my chest that demanded to be shouted. A pressure I couldn’t ignore. Tears were streaming down my cheeks, and my face was heated, but I ignored it. That wasn’t as important as the pain in my chest from being accused by people I thought I had loved me.

          “Can you prove that you aren’t? Where do you go every night? Why don’t we ever see you?” David settled into the couch. His voice was smooth and rational, but his mouth quirked in a slight smirk for a second, betraying his real feelings.

          “You know I have work,” I sighed exasperatedly, taking in a deep breath. Trying to calm down. Trying to get to his level.

          “So do I. I work eight-hour days, seven days a week. I have a kid and a wife, and yet I still make time for family.”

          The calmness of his voice angered me even further. It had the bad aftertaste of a superiority complex.

          “All we’re asking is for you to be more—” my mom started to add, but I was fed up.

          “Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware this was a who’s-better contest from when we were six! I didn’t know I was supposed to be perfect like ‘David is.’ Maybe, you should’ve put me up for adoption when I was born, Dad. Think you would’ve been happy then? Without your wayward daughter? Huh?!”

          That last sentence finally got a reaction of sorts from my father and brother. I felt a sort of victory that I had silenced them. This revelation didn’t calm me down, however. In fact, it incensed me more. They had assumed all these things without a shred of evidence whatsoever.

          “Excuse me?” my father spluttered.

          “Now, now. Let’s not say anything you’ll regret later, Emily,” David soothed. Or attempted to sooth. He was notoriously bad at “reading the room.”

          “I’m sorry. Me regret what I’m saying? Can you hear yourselves?” I started to laugh, tears streaming down my face. In the background, I heard Mikey crying. I think, in the end, that’s what brought me back to my senses. I became more aware of my body shaking, and the beginnings of a headache were creeping in. I needed to leave. And leave quickly.

          David opened his mouth to say something, but I interrupted him with a wave of my hand.

          “You know what? Never mind. I can see that I’m not welcome here. If you want to apologize, you have my number. Don’t call me unless the first words out of your mouth are ‘I’m sorry.’ Got it?”

          I turned my back to them and walked out the door. I could hear my mother sobbing in the background, but I was too incensed to give a damn. Luckily, I hadn’t had time to even put down my purse, so it was a hasty exit.

          If only I had stayed.

          I jumped into my car, ears ringing. I looked down and saw that I still had a full cup of coffee from only twenty minutes ago. I had bought Starbucks on the way here and never drank it. I revved my engine and sped out of the driveway.

          “Where, where, where,” I muttered to myself.

          The cabin. You’ll be safe in the cabin.

          All I could think of right now was getting somewhere safe, where I could calm down. I couldn’t go home. My roommate shouldn’t see me like this.

          Agh, Hannah… The next stop sign I came to I picked up my phone. There was already a text from my roommate.

          “Hey Emily. I hope everything’s going great! Are you coming home tonight?”

          A sob caught in my throat. Everything was far from great, but I couldn’t tell her that. Not right now anyway. Tomorrow morning, I would call her and tell her what happened. Right now, I needed to be alone.

          I quickly texted her back.

          “Hey :) everything is fine. I’m heading to the cabin earlier then I thought though. I’ll see you in a couple days. Text ya when I get there.”

          I dropped my phone back in my purse and felt a box shape I didn’t recognize. I lifted it out and saw a pack of cigarettes. They were my friend Henry’s, I remembered. He gave them to me to hold last night at the bar.

          The hammering in my chest was worse now. A tightening feeling in back and the threat of a headache made me see these cigarettes in a different way. I had smoked a tiny bit in college, but only to seem cool to my friends. It had never become a habit to drop, and I hadn’t touched one in years.

          Well, guess tonight is full of surprises. I opened the window, lit a cigarette and started the drive to Big Bear. I was so lost in my thoughts, my anger, my anxiety, that I didn’t notice as each cigarette disappeared. The coffee was gone by now too. The smoking made my mouth dry, so I stopped by a Starbucks before I completely left the city and got another coffee. By the time I reached the cabin, the pack was gone, and three coffees were running through my system.

          Everything was dark and shadows of trees stretched long on the ground. But I had been coming to this cabin since I was five, so I didn’t feel the eeriness of the night, only the comfort of being somewhere I knew I belonged. I looked up and saw the stars bright in the sky. The moon was full, and the sky was unclouded. It was a stark beauty that would’ve calmed me in normal circumstances.

          I brought in my singular suitcase that I had already packed for the weekend and locked the door behind me. With warm glow of the yellow lights, I started to breath normally again. Maybe, I would be alright and tomorrow my father would call, explaining his behavior. Maybe everything would turn out okay. I sat at the table, finally realizing how hungry I was. A quick look in the cupboards revealed a box of Rice Krispies and a full bottle of Jose Cuervo.

          I eyed the alcohol, but ultimately decided against it.

          That would only lead to a horrible hangover. I don’t need that on top of the stress I already have.

          My body was slightly shaky. I didn’t pay attention to it at the time, but now I realize it was the combination of nicotine, caffeine, and anxiety. I poured myself a bowl of cereal and ate in silence.

          Bzzt, bzzt

          I picked my phone out my purse and saw that I had two texts – one from Hannah and one from Rachel.

          I read Hannah’s first. It was just a “good night, did you make it” text. I sent her back a thumbs up and snoozing emoji. My sister-in-law’s text however brought back the familiar ache in my chest.

          “Be careful Emily. Your father is coming tomorrow.”

          If only I had used reason.

          There was no way my father could’ve known I would be at the cabin. But in the heat of the moment, on top of everything that had happened, I panicked. The cabin was my safe place, and he would not scare me. At least that’s what I told myself.

          In my stress and shaking state, I looked again at that bottle of liquor sitting on the shelf. Tequila always knocked me out. I would be calm at last…

          If only…

          I grabbed the bottle of tequila and started drinking.

          I don’t remember anything from the rest of that night. I do remember waking up in the middle of the night. My heart was racing fast, maybe from the nightmare. As soon as I woke up though, it calmed, and I went back to sleep.

          The sunrise woke me up the next morning. I blinked in a haze, surprisingly hangover-free. Looking out the window, I saw the most beautiful sight. Snow. It blanketed everything, and even seemed to blanket my own anxiety from last night. I felt so calm now.

          I decided to take a walk in the snow. This had been my favorite part of the cabin. Snow walks in the morning, when the world was still waking up. I stood on the deck and seemed to drift aimlessly into the woods.

          My thoughts slowly turned toward the scene from last night. The accusations, the shouting. My barging out of the house and smoking. And drinking. And my horrible nightmare… Thankfully my sleep after waking up had been dream free.

          Try as I might to feel remorse for my actions, I couldn’t. I was justified in everything I had done. Or...was I? I thought about the events of last night in a clearer light. Had I gone to the house expecting this? What if they had just been worried about me? Guilt came in like a flood, but oddly I didn't flush like I normally did. Most likely because of the cold.

          I should call dad. So he knows I’m okay. I’ll tell him I'm at the cabin and we can talk. I thought. I stopped walking and glanced around. In my musing, I had neglected to keep a careful path, and I had no idea where I was. No matter, I could follow my footprints home. The snow was fresh, so there shouldn’t be any problem. I turned around looking.

          Nothing was there.

          The snow behind me was as unmarked as the snow in front. I turned in a circle and saw no footprints in any direction. Panicking now I ran. I just picked a direction and ran. I felt a pull in my chest and followed it. Soon enough, I could see the cabin. But I was running too fast to stop, how was I running so fast? The trees whistled by in a blur, but I felt no wind on my face.

          What the...

          And then I ran into the cabin. Or rather…I ran through it. Straight through the wall into the living room. No crash or feel of hard wood against my body. Just straight materialization from one space to another. The panic grew worse now. Why couldn’t I feel anything?

          I rushed into my room.

No, no, no…

          And there I was. Lying on the bed. Pale and still.

---

          It was two days before my body was found. I sat in that room watching myself. My mother found my empty body on the bed but couldn’t see me. Whatever I was. A ghost? A spirit?

          I heard the coroner say it was heart attack. The nicotine, caffeine, and alcohol had all reacted in such a way that my heart had given out. I’m sure my family mourned, but I don’t know where. I do know where my body is now. Its ashes are scattered through these woods.

          These woods I can’t leave. My spirit is tied to the cabin somehow, and I’m stranded in an eternal wandering of this place.

          And through my mind, the only thing I’ve been able to think of for fifty years is,

          If only.

The End