The lamp wouldn't turn on. But it turned on yesterday? She checked the bulb, but it wasn't there.

"What the fuck?" she noted, as she glanced around the room. This was instinctual and odd as she knows no one else is within 25 miles of this cabin, the middle of nowhere in South Dakota.

"If I didn't move this bulb, no one could have," she debated aloud to herself. "There's no one else here but me, unless..." she muttered, her voice trailing off in a way that she tried to prevent from sounding desperate, to prevent herself from scaring herself with a terrifying notion made much more terrifying by admitting out loud and hearing echo off the walls of the cabin.

"Hello? HELLO???" No reply. She hated that she was doing this. She wasn't really afraid so much as she was angry that a possibility existed that she hadn't planned for.

No one knew where she was going, there was no way they could have followed her all this way. For how many months did she plan? She wrote nothing down, she told no one of the setup. It was all in her head, all in her head. Always all in her head, the only thing she could trust was that she wouldn't tell anyone and no one would know. She could live out here for months, years if needed, if she even ever needed to return, who knows?

"HELLO I KNOW YOU'RE THERE. I FOUND THE BULB HERE IN MY HAND"

And indeed it was.