Start Up
My name is Joy, and most people see me as a carefree, lazy, game-addicted individual with no real ambition. Little do they know that I’m a celebrated name in the comic fantasy world. I’ve published two stories that not only gained a loyal following but also earned me six figures.
As the only child of doting parents, I grew up pampered and indulged. After graduating with a degree in Architecture and passing the licensure exam, I convinced my parents to let me travel abroad as a reward for my hard work. They happily agreed.
One of my most memorable trips was to Japan. There, I discovered the incredible world of manga, and it changed my life. I was fascinated by the artistry, storytelling, and cultural richness embedded in those pages. Captivated, I decided to enroll in a manga creation class during my stay.
When I returned home, I poured my newfound knowledge and passion into creating my first story. For over two years, I lived like a hermit, locked away in my room, working tirelessly on my craft. My heart broke each time my submissions were rejected. Every rejection felt like a knife twisting in my chest, and the thought of giving up loomed over me like a dark cloud.
But just when I was ready to quit, my revised manuscript was accepted. That moment marked the start of my career as a comic book creator. The joy of success was indescribable, but with it came the inevitable challenge every writer faces: writer’s block.
No matter how hard I tried, the words and ideas wouldn’t flow. Frustrated and isolated, I turned to the only person I could confide in—Felix, my childhood friend and neighbor. Our mothers were best friends, and our families had always been close. I often visited Felix’s house without needing an invitation, and he did the same with mine.
Felix was a freelance IT professional, and I found him as usual, in his room tinkering with his computer. I plopped down on the couch, venting my frustration about my creative slump.
“How about a change of scenery?” Felix suggested after listening to me rant. He stood up, walked over to his drawer, and pulled out a small key.
“This is the key to our family’s cabin up north. It’s about a five-hour drive from here. If you want, you can use it as your sanctuary for a while. It’s quiet, peaceful, and just what you might need to clear your head.”
I took the key, my heart swelling with gratitude. Maybe this cabin could be the fresh start I needed to overcome my writer’s block.
I was brimming with enthusiasm as I glanced at the GPS screen of my Ford pickup, the winding road ahead guiding me closer to my destination. The thought of escaping to a peaceful retreat filled me with a mix of excitement and relief. Along the way, I made a quick stop at a convenience store nestled at the base of the mountain, stocking up on some last-minute essentials before heading up the rugged trail.
When I finally arrived, I was taken aback by the sight of the cabin. Historically, cabins are modest, compact structures designed for practicality, often with small windows and a rustic charm. But this? This was something entirely different.
Felix’s family’s cabin stood proudly against the backdrop of towering pine trees, blending modern design with the surrounding wilderness. The structure featured clean, minimalist lines, and expansive floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed natural light to pour in. It was a striking contrast to the rough-hewn logs and earthy tones I had envisioned. The glass seemed to reflect the landscape, merging the indoors with the serene beauty of the outdoors.
Felix's family was well-off, but I hadn’t expected this level of sophistication. The sleek wooden façade was complemented by a spacious deck that wrapped around the cabin, offering an unobstructed view of the mountains and forest beyond. It wasn’t just a cabin—it was a sanctuary, an architectural marvel designed to maximize comfort while staying connected to nature.
Standing there, I felt a renewed sense of anticipation. If inspiration didn’t find me here, in this perfect blend of modern luxury and natural tranquility, I wasn’t sure where else it could.
I stepped inside the cabin, immediately struck by its cozy yet modern design. The interior was warm and inviting, with two bedrooms located on the second floor, each offering a stunning view of a small pond nestled amidst the surrounding trees.
Remembering Felix’s instructions, I pulled out the key he had given me. I tried it on the first bedroom door, but it didn’t work. Turning to the second door, I slid the key into the lock, and with a satisfying click, it opened.
I spent the next hour unpacking my belongings and settling in. The cabin’s amenities were impressive—Felix had mentioned it was solar-powered, and I couldn’t help but admire the blend of sustainability and modern living.
By late afternoon, I decided to postpone exploring the area. The long drive had left me more exhausted than I realized, and I resolved to use the rest of the day to relax and recharge. Tomorrow, I would venture out and familiarize myself with the surroundings.
After a simple dinner, I climbed into bed early, the stillness of the cabin lulling me into a peaceful slumber.
I woke in the middle of the night, the dull ache of needing to pee tugging at my grogginess. With heavy eyes, I slipped out from under the covers, wearing nothing but a simple cotton underwear and shirt. The cool air of the room brushed against my skin as I shuffled toward the bathroom, my mind still fogged with sleep.
After a few moments in the quiet, I returned, my bare feet softly padding against the floor. The house was still, the only sound the faint hum of the wind outside. I paused at the doorway, feeling the familiar warmth of my bed calling me back. But as I entered the room, something caught the corner of my eye.
In the far corner of the room, near the window, there was a shadow. A figure, standing perfectly still. It was dark, its form too vague and indistinct to make out, yet I could feel its presence in the room. My heart skipped a beat, but the pull of sleep was too strong, too overwhelming. My eyes fluttered, my body yearning for rest.
I blinked, staring at the shadow for a moment longer. It didn’t move. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light, my half-conscious mind playing tricks on me in the dead of night. With a tired sigh, I dismissed the thought, shaking my head slightly. It must have been nothing. The figure was just a figment of my drowsy mind.
I stumbled back into bed, pulling the covers up around me, and closed my eyes, willing myself to fall back asleep. The room fell quiet again, the figure seemingly gone, but in the back of my mind, a whisper of unease lingered—faint, but persistent.
