One possible night in December

It could have been one of those quiet evenings I like to spend in winter. My family and I were on holiday in a nice chalet ten minutes away from a little village in the mountains. At the time, I was alone and happy to be. This happened because there was a celebration my family wanted to take part in at the village.

I had just finished reading the book I had taken from home, but had noticed that there were many in the chalet. It had begun to snow quite heavily so I couldn’t even see the lights of the village and I could hear how calm it was outside. I had a cup of tea and some cookies so everything seemed to be fine.

When I stared to look for a good book, I realised that there were many thrillers, which I don’t like to read, especially in the evening, because I am very easily scared. It took me a long time to find a text called “The refuge”. It was not exactly a book, maybe the owner of the chalet had written it.

The beginning was very pleasant. It was about a young couple who had decided to go for a walk in the mountains on a beautiful autumn’s day: romantic as I wanted to read in such a moment. I lay down on a comfortable sofa to read more about the story.

The young people were walking, I was learning more about their lives and we were all surprised when they saw the sun setting and weren’t where they had expected to be at the end of the day. By having a look at the map, they realised they were much higher than they had thought but noticed that there was a little hut not so far away and they just had to go there, quickly, before dark. They found it, could open it and they even found some wood and matches to make a little fire. The only little problem was that the girl had an ankle ache as she hadn’t seen a big stone on her way. They spent a cold night there and I decided to go on reading in my bed, ready for a nice continuation.

Unfortunately, their next morning was a foggy one. They had enough to eat and the girl could have some rest, so the boy decided to go round the hut to see if he could find some more wood. He stood there a very long time and the girl finally decided to call him back. As she opened the door, she saw him petrified and almost blue. He was very cold when she pulled him inside and was repeating softly that he had seen the devil. She tried to warm him with blankets and was getting a little frightened.

I found it was enough for me and I closed the booklet but then the only thing I could have in my head was the eyes of the girl asking for help. It was quite late and I was hoping my family would arrive. Outside, it was still snowing and silent. I noticed that every little noise in the chalet had begun to startle me. I had to go on reading, it certainly would get better and my family would surely arrive soon.

It was night again. She had done her best to warm and reassured him and was exhausted. He was still watching her with empty eyes, talking about the devil and sometimes crying with a very high-pitched voice. She was now really scared, watching the door and the two windows and jumping every time that she heard a noise. She could not sleep, felt colder and colder and here dark night was getting worse and worse. And so did mine.

If I tried to stop reading, then the nightmare was in my head. The eyes of the girl were more and more terrifying. The chalet was noisier and noisier and my family still had not arrived.

The girl heard a knocking on the door. Once, twice. Impossible to be mistaken, someone was near her now. She was not sure what to do, but I was very hopeful then the last pages were arriving.

The three next pages were white. Just white. Only on the very last page, one sentence: “What end were you expecting, don’t you know every life ends with death?” I don’t know how long I stood alone with that question, my heart beating crazily but unable to move otherwise, staring at the ceiling and strongly, very strongly waiting for my family to, at least, arrive.