I laid back with my eyes closed and hands idly waving back and forth, creating small ripples in the deliciously warm water. Toes kicked up little splashes as I let my mind wander.
All the stiffness in my bones and gnawing aches in my muscles melted away. They were feelings that I’d had for so long, feelings that had settled so deeply into me that I had stopped really noticing them, they were just normal. But there, submerged in that bath, all the discomfort, all the pain just seemed to drift away from me.
The fear and the dread had just gone, replaced by a feeling of peace and serenity. The bright glow of sunlight streamed in through the frosted, bathroom window, such a marvellous thing after the dim confines of the basement.
I allowed myself to just lay there, my eyes closed, my body enveloped in the heat of the water. My breathing grew deep, deliberate and slow. I can remember the scent of my soap filling the air, bright, cool and invigorating peppermint which slowly blended and mellowed into the warm and earthy tones of the cedarwood.
There was silence. I had almost forgotten what a true silence felt like. There was no constant, percussive dripping, no tormenting whispers. Just the gentle lapping of the water, softly whispering back in echo against the side of that old enamel bath. The silence was broken only by the occasional thud of movement outside, Lars taking all of those new gifts down into the basement for me.
What wonderous things he had got for me, warm clothes, a mattress and even a small heater.
My mind wandered as I thought about those small luxuries that my brother was readying for me. Then drifting back further, back to my life before, back to my old bedroom. I pictured the pink curtains that would flap gently in the cool breeze from my open window. The warm duvet and soft mattress of my bed. The feeling of the thick, soft carpet under my feet. The image formed in my mind so vividly, I felt that I could almost reach out and touch the scene. I could almost hear the sound of the birds singing in the trees outside my window.
It was the image of freedom, of a freedom that I had long since lost.
The thought of freedom tugged at something deep inside me. A mattress, warm clothes, a heater, all the things that Lars was arranging down there for me. After everything that I had endured, they were luxuries but they were still destined for that basement. I tried to deny it but I knew that this brief glimpse of the outside world would have to end. Sooner or later I was going to find myself confined back down there.
It was obvious at the time, it always had been, I never even questioned it. I had been so excited by the prospect of the comforts that he had offered me, seduced by the promise of a hot bath and a taste of freedom.
The door to the bathroom wasn’t locked, it stood very slightly ajar, the thinnest crack of light glinting around its edge. But was I really any less confined in here than I had been down there?
I was coming to realise that whatever sense of freedom that I was feeling was little more than an illusion carefully crafted by my brother.
My eyes scanned the small bathroom, searching. The white tiled floor was bare, my discarded dress was gone. Taken by him on the pretence of doing me a favour.
“Let me get rid of this old dress for you”, the words of his repeated in my mind. Despite the warm water of the bath, a chill surged through my body. A niggling doubt crept into my mind, perhaps there was more to his motive, perhaps this was less a favour and more about manipulation and control.
What was he really doing? What did he really want?
My gaze rose to the wall, the long dark wooden towel rail was empty.
The room around me seemed to shift, the once brilliant, golden sunlight from the window now seemed harsh, sterile and sharp, reflecting off the bleak, frozen world outside. The smell in the air, the peppermint turned sickly, sticking in my throat and mingling with the damp and tepid undertones of the cedarwood that lingered in my nostrils.
The warmth of the water was the last, rapidly fading memory of the hope and comfort which I had all too briefly enjoyed.
The crushing realisation that I would soon have to return to that cold, damp and dim basement twisted my stomach, causing prickles on my skin. The feeling of dread that was beginning to rise up inside of me chased away every feeling of peace and comfort that I had only just felt.
I was wet and I was naked. I had no clothes or towel, no way to cover myself, dry myself or protect myself. This wasn’t an unfortunate oversight from Lars, this was a calculated act, deliberate and planned. I was trapped, trapped up here just as surely as I had been trapped down there.
A hard resolve settled over me. I wasn’t going to let myself be forced back down there, there was no way that I could ever let him cage me again.
I pushed myself up, wet hands slipping slightly on the hard white enamel of the bath. Outside the room there was silence, Lars must have still been sorting out his ‘generous’ gifts to me.
What was his game? What was he up to? He wasn’t trying to help me. He didn’t do things out of kindness, I should have known that by then. Nothing ever came without strings attached. He was doing the bare minimum that he had to do to keep me alive. It wasn’t to make me comfortable but to prolong my suffering and torment.
I needed to get out of there. I needed to get away from him. I needed to find a way to escape.
My eyes shot over to the frosted window. Did it open? It looked small but if I could open it then perhaps that was my way out. The door wasn’t locked, that tiny sliver of light surrounding its edge beckoned to me invitingly.
My breath caught in my chest as my ears strained for any sound. There was nothing but silence, Lars must still be down in the basement.
Even if I did get out, where would I go? How did I possibly hope to survive? They were questions that I wouldn’t let my mind entertain. All I knew was that, one way or another, I had to get out of there. Desperation fuelled by the churning sensation of adrenaline in my stomach forced me into action.
Standing, I lifted a leg over the side of the bath, foot planting lightly on the cold, hard surface of the floor tiles. He wouldn’t be expecting this, he thought that he had broken me, defeated me. He very nearly had. But in that moment I had managed to find the slightest spark of resistance remaining within me. It had been but the dimmest smoulder that all of a sudden sprang into flame.
My first thought was the window. Its white painted wooden frame holding a single pane of frosted glass. It was held closed by a white painted casement stay fastened to the bottom of the frame. It was small but probably just big enough for me to be able to climb through.
My fingers, quivering, closed around the stay. The metal felt icy to my touch. Despite the hot, steaming air in the bathroom, a chill, freezing draft emanated from the window, making my naked skin prickle and my body shudder.
Pulling, the stay lifted easily enough. My breath sucked in deeply as I gave it a forceful push.
The window didn’t budge.
I placed a palm on the cold, icy glass and gave it another shove but still it stubbornly refused to move. The window was frozen shut.
Perhaps I could break the glass? The thought flashed through my mind for a moment while my eyes scoured the room. There must be something that I could use, anything. But there was nothing. If I was honest with myself, naked as I was, I would likely slash myself on the shards if I tried.
That left only one other option, the door. My focus locked to it, the glimmer of light around the edges was a seductive lure to me. It wasn’t locked but I was well aware that didn’t mean that it was safe, Lars was still out there. He could be on the other side just waiting for me.
On tip toes, my jaw clenched tight and breath holding in the back of my throat I began to creep forwards, creep towards the door. My senses were alert, ears straining for any sound of him. There was nothing, just silence.
My hand came to rest on the doorknob, an old brown bakelite doorknob, warm and slick to the touch. It was wet, dripping with condensation from the deep humidity of the bathroom.
My heart pounded a loud, deafening beat inside my head as I gently pulled the door open.
Just a few centimetres at first, just wide enough to allow me to peek out into the main room of the cabin.
The room was empty, ominously so. The pile of objects, the mattress, blankets, clothes and heater were gone. Lars had taken them down into the basement, I assumed.
I could see the door, the door to the outside world. It beckoned to me, called to me. The windows on either side shone radiantly. Through them I could see the bright, snow covered landscape stretching out in front of Grandfather’s cabin. In the distance were the dark, white tipped shapes of pine trees. A choked sob escaped from my lips, the view stole my breath. It was the most beautiful sight that I had ever seen. It was a view of freedom.
The golden light from the low winter sun poured in through those windows. They were like two glowing beacons lighting my way to escape, to that wonderful scene beyond.
I wanted to run then, every fibre of my being just wanted to make a desperate dash for that door, to throw myself out into that winter landscape beyond and not stop until Lars and his cruel grasp were far behind me.
The slightest breath of air from that room brushed over my exposed skin. It made me stop, a jarring reminder of my vulnerability. I couldn’t run into the wilderness like this, I needed to find something to cover myself with.
I dared to pull the door open just a fraction further, just enough that I could slowly put my head out and look around.
There was no sign of Lars. The door to the basement stood open, a gaping jaw that led down into the darkness beyond. The occasional flicker of light, a shadow cast on the grey walls of that passage was enough to tell me that Lars was still down there.
Manically my eyes darted around the room, searching for anything to cover myself. Lars’ jacket, a blanket that he hadn’t yet taken down the steps, anything that I could use but there was nothing. The room was bare, just that fire crackling softly in the fireplace.
My mind was growing frantic, I had to find something, I had to get out of here. Every second that I lingered was a second closer to Lars returning and me finding myself confined back in that basement.
My thoughts turned then to the other rooms, the kitchen and the bedrooms. I doubted very much if I would find anything of use in the kitchen but the bedrooms, just maybe. Perhaps a blanket on a bed or some clothes in a wardrobe.
First one foot and then the next stepped lightly out onto the rough wooden floor. With ragged breath, I glanced over at the gaping door of the basement. The constant flickering of light and shadow still visible, dancing in its depths. For now at least, Lars was still preoccupied down there.
What was he doing? How long could it possibly take to set up a mattress, a few blankets and an electric heater? They were thoughts that didn’t enter my head at the time. In my desperation to escape I was just relieved that he was down there and not up in the cabin.
A third, fourth step, creeping as silently as I could, pressing myself tightly against the wooden wall as I went, trying to somehow blend into it and make myself invisible.
Another step. The old floorboard creaking loudly under my weight. My breath hitched, a jolt stabbed through my chest as my heart skipped a beat. Every muscle in my body freezing. Had he heard me?
There were no hurried footsteps on the stairs, the only sound rising up from below was a gentle scraping sound, the sound of something heavy being dragged across the concrete floor.
I convinced myself that he hadn’t heard me, convinced myself that he wasn’t coming. I forced myself forward again, silently creeping centimetre by centimetre towards the bedroom door.
After what felt like an eternity, my hand came to rest on the smooth knob of the bedroom door. Made from the same warm, brown bakelite as the bathroom door, my grip closed tightly around it. I paused a fraction of a second before twisting and pushing inwards.
With, what to me sounded like an ear splitting squeal, the door swung open and I slipped hastily inside.
Looking around I felt my heart sink like a stone, any hope that I had slipping away like grains of sand through my fingers.
The room was as bare and empty as the rest of the cabin. A large window looking out onto the frozen lake behind was the only feature in an otherwise desolate room.
What else had I expected? The cabin had been cleared out shortly after Grandfather had died. I had spent a couple of days up here with Dad, helping him to load everything into a big white van. Valuables had been donated to charity, as Grandfather had requested. The rest, we had simply broken up and dumped.
It was a moment of despair for me and it was in that moment of despair that I had let my guard drop.
I was snapped back to the present with a sudden jolt by his voice just outside the bedroom. He was back. He had returned from the basement. Why hadn’t I been paying attention? So careful for so long only to allow myself to get distracted in that one critical moment.
“Heidi, how are you enjoying that bath?” his voice sounded loud and confident, upbeat as if he was pleased with himself. “Are you ready to come and see what I’ve done for you?”
It was only a matter of time now, only seconds before he found me gone from the bathroom. A cold tingle of dread sent shivers racing through me, my stomach tightened as the feeling of nausea surged inside me.
My eyes darted back to the bedroom door, it was open. I hadn’t shut it behind me. How could I have been so careless, so stupid? He would find me now, there was no way that I’d be able to make it to the door unseen, there was no escape.
A wild, animalistic impulse gripped me. It gave me no time to think, no time to worry about the consequences. All I knew was that I had to get out of there and I had to do it now. Lars had been careless, he’d given me this narrowest of chances and I had to seize it.
With all the strength that I could muster, I threw myself at the window. Shoulder slamming into the smooth, hard, icy glass.
There was a sharp crack of splintering wood. The window frame, rotten with age gave way to me.
The cold air was brutal, slamming into me sharp like shattered glass. My breath snatched from my lungs with a single icy gasp. Then came the dull thud as I hit the deep snow, the world turned white as the soft powder gave way around me. Then the agonising burn, a searing cold that bit at me, every ice crystal scalding my exposed flesh.