The office was essentially identical to the way Trent recalled it, save for a white paper out on the art table already with a pencil drawing on it. I haven’t come in here yet… He sat down at the art table to examine the picture. It depicted a rough sketch of the cabin in winter from the viewpoint at the bottom of the hill. It was beautiful, but the sketch had a sort of refined touch to it. The style, though realistic, was far more elegant than Trent’s style. He had a preference for adding as many details as possible, while this style omitted specific ones for a much more pleasing experience to the eye.

Whoever did this must have been trained in some way… Perhaps Sharon…? No, she only drew people and animals. Trent noticed that the background of the sketch had also been drawn in, showing the cabin surrounded by snow-blanketed trees. He then noticed the date in the lower corner and realized that the sketch had been drawn the day before he had arrived. That doesn’t make sense, that’s not right- who else would have come all the way up here? Sharon? A friend of hers? But the driveway was shoveled… Maybe she sent someone up here to make sure things were ready. And they left this here for her.

Relieved and satisfied with that probable explanation, Trent moved the sketch to the computer desk so he could start working on a drawing. He got himself some blank paper, a pencil, and some assorted colored pencils. He took no more than that so Sharon wouldn’t be upset at him for messing with the way she organized her supplies. A doe in a field, that field, summertime, like when Sharon and I took that picture. After about what was roughly an hour or two of non-stop drawing, Trent had finished drawing a female deer in the field behind the cabin about a mile away from the cabin.

A year prior, Sharon had taken Trent to come see this cabin she had just finished cleaning and repairing, and together the two of them went into that same field he had just drawn for a photo together to commemorate the completion of her hard work. She had set her phone on a rock near the center of the field and had a timer for the camera to take the photo. As Trent was getting back into position for the camera he saw what he thought was a tall shadow out of the corner of his eye. That had scared him so much he did not move and ended up ruining the photo.

Remembering what I swore I saw back then, makes me so damn nervous. Oh God, I feel like I can’t breathe.

Trent’s heart suddenly began to race and pound as for a moment no air passed through his body. He couldn't scream, he couldn’t speak, and as he fumbled around to grab his phone in a frenzy, he suddenly could breathe again.

Unfortunately, Trent’s breathing speed continued to spike as he was still in a state of panic and he started gasping for air from hyperventilation. I can’t oh my god I can’t breathe normally- He threw himself into another coughing fit and briefly felt a wave of nausea roll over him before it ended abruptly.

His rapid heartbeat and shallow breaths slowly returned to their normal state, and after a few minutes of silence, Trent finally calmed down. By now, he was no longer able to keep running on the single lunch meal and the exhaustion he’d been ignoring was starting to worm its way back into his consciousness, so Trent chose to get ready for bed.

After a quick shower and a light snack, Trent decided to check around the house and make sure everything was in place before sleeping. Front door? Locked. Keys? On the mantel. Windows? Unable to be opened. Office door? Open? Upon returning to the office due to the door being ajar, Trent found that both his drawing and the sketch had been moved, both on the worktable next to each other.

I didn’t move that, right?

He approached the table cautiously, curious and anxious about what lay before him. It appeared that someone had drawn a young man dressed in hiking clothes who appeared to admire the deer he had drawn. The drawn man bore a light smile and his jaw was slacked in crisp astonishment.

The style looks just like the cabin sketch.

As he picked up the cabin sketch, dread had begun to settle in Trent’s stomach upon noticing that his drawing had been drawn on by someone else. And then, Trent’s heart skipped a beat when he noticed the cabin sketch’s latest addition: his car in the driveway.

That’s not-

He dropped the paper, feeling panic rising in his ribs, and as he walked backward away from the table, he hit his head on the door that he didn't recall closing. Rather than stay in this room for a single second longer, Trent turned around, opened the door as quickly as possible, ran into the bedroom, and slammed that door as hard as he could muster.

That’s not right no that doesn’t make sense, that isn’t right, why and who would have, could have, I don’t know, I don’t know- Trent’s thoughts raced as he shakily stood by the door as if he was trying to keep whatever could be on the other side of it away from him.

No, no, I imagined it, that is all, I didn’t see that, it didn’t happen and I am fine.

After assuring himself of this, he got into bed and laid down.

I didn’t see that. I’m just tired is all. Long drive. Long road.

Through a mix of ignorance and exhaustion, Trent found himself falling asleep much quicker than usual, reaching unconsciousness the exact second his eyes slipped shut.