We arrived home to the cabin around 7 o'clock. It was cold and dark, so we stumbled around the cabin to gather necessities to build a fire. After the fire was built, we curled up on some chairs and read and played Yatzee (this was one of the only two-player games we could find in the cabin). We talked and then headed to bed at 10 p.m., extremely exhausted. The moment we tried to sleep, it seemed as though all the creaking noises in the cabin amplified. Under the bed I swear I could hear chewing and scurrying.
“It’s just the cabin creaking. Go to sleep,” Grace said when I told her I thought it was a mouse.
“No way. I swear I heard something,” I answered defiantly. “Don’t you hear it?”
She denied hearing anything, but apparently stayed up a good portion of the night thinking on that, along with the fact that we were alone in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. I slept quietly and soundly, my perpetual optimism pushing scary thoughts out of my head.
We woke up the next morning, frozen and groggy. Even though it was daylight outside, the cabin was as dark as ever. We cleaned up the best we good, and were ready to leave. I was waiting in the car and couldn’t figure out what was taking Grace so long. I got out to find her fumbling with the keys.
“It won’t turn!” she exclaimed, frustrated and sleep-deprived.
I took the key and began to turn the knob when “SNAP!”—the key broke in half. “Uh oh…” I muttered under my breath.
Grace began to freak out. “We broke my Aunt’s cabin. Oh my gosh we broke the cabin. What are we going to do?”
Luckily, we called her Aunt, who wasn’t as concerned as we were. We headed out, finally, ready to put the stressful cabin behind us on our adventure. Next stop: Traverse City.