Chapter Twenty One

I drove to places I haven't been in months. To the park, where I sat and watched normal people live their normal lives. I went to the lake where I dipped my feet into the water and was reminded of all the times my father took me here.

I remember being happy, looking forward to each day. Not worrying about being alone, or fearing for others' safety every day, -not still being concerned about Ellie.

The moment I stepped foot out of the house, I felt everything all at once. The humiliation didn't even seem to matter, because I realized that all of this was a good thing. Ellie's brilliant discoveries are a good thing.

He's not contagious. He's not as dangerous as I thought. Everything he told me, it all had to be true.

All this time he had been theorizing my father's death when I blamed him for it. He must have known that he was never responsible.

Is Ellie capable of feeling guilty?

My mind was swirling with thoughts and scenarios where I hadn't of kissed him. All the anger I felt when I found out that he only wanted to kiss me for an experiment was all due to one thing. One thing I can't pretend isn't the truth.

I wanted to kiss him (really) bad, and I liked it.

My denial is deprecated because it doesn't take a genius to figure out the moment he asked me to kiss him is when I realized I might like him more than a creature-friend-thing.

Deny, deny, deny.

I picked up a rock that was sticking out of the lake, and threw it as hard as I could into the water. It made a large splash, despite its size. I began to throw as many rocks as I could get my hands on until eventually my hands were covered in mud, and my breathing became ragged.

It was not making me feel better.

I gave up, and decided to leave the lake. The sun was nearly out of the sky at this point, and I could see a few stars peek out from the darkness.

Should I go home?

The very thought of being in the same house as Ellie, made me want to disappear and never be seen again. But every time I swore to myself I wouldn't go back, the same thought kept reappearing in my mind, as if something were asking me to go back.

I kept thinking, if I don't return, what would he do? Eventually he'd leave the house, and then what?

If he attacks someone, would it be my fault?

If he kills someone, is that blood going to be on my hands?

I shook my head and gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. I left the house strictly for an escape from responsibility. I don't want him to be my responsibility. I never asked for him to be my responsibility. He's not my responsibility.

He is.

He's not.

But he is.

I huffed. My pride has already been stepped on and kicked to the side. What do I have to lose by returning to him -besides my sanity- anyway?

I drove home, refusing to think of what would happen between me and Ellie. If I'm lucky, he might not even have cared that I left. Part of me wasn't convinced.

I pulled into the driveway. The moon was in full view now, and the sky was pitch black. The house was dark, it seemed not a light was on, which didn't alarm me, since Ellie did have such a weird habit of making sure all the lights are off no matter what time of the day it is.

I stepped out of my car, and strode up to the front door where I opened it so slowly as my entire body was screaming not to. I don't want to, but I also know that I must.

Because it's my responsibility.

I stepped through the door into the house, and glanced around. Everything, as I expected, was normal. It's not like I thought Ellie would panic and trash the place.

And yet part of me wished that he would have, because at least then it'd tell me what he felt. He's practically a professional on keeping secrets, keeping every thought to himself. Figuring him out is hard, his thoughts, his feelings, it's all too complicated. I'm not even sure he's aware that he does it, not display emotion that is.

I stopped, and waited, wondering if I could hear any noise from the basement, but there was nothing. I refused to allow myself to get nervous. It's usual for him to be so quiet. It's perfectly normal.

I walked over to the basement, and forced myself to walk down the steps, "Ellie?" I flipped on the lights, only to see the room was empty.

Ellie was not in the basement.

I instantly allowed the myself to get nervous.

I ran back up the basement stairs taking two steps at a time. "Ellie?" I called again but much louder. I checked the upstairs, and then double-checked the downstairs. He was nowehere in sight.

My heart was pounding, and suddenly every bad thought came rushing in my head. What if he has attacked someone? What if he has killed someone? What if someone hurt him? What if someone killed him?

I felt tears form into my eyes, and every ounce of fear I've ever had over the months of keeping such a strict eye on Ellie, suddenly all came out at once.

He's gone. He's not here. It's all my fault. It's all my fault. It's all my-

"Ripley?" A voice from behind me spoke. I've never spun around so quickly in my life.

Standing there, tall, skinny, and as pale as always, was Ellie.

He's not gone.

"Ellie?" I breathed, tears fell down my cheeks.

"You are back." He said it as such a bold statement. I found myself wondering how he could be so calm when I was on the verge of having a heart attack.

"Where the hell were you?" I asked, it took all I had not to start sobbing uproariously "I kept calling for you, I thought that you left."

He glanced over his shoulder, back towards the backdoor.

The backyard. Of course, the one place I didn't check. "I went outside." He almost sounded guilty, ashamed even.

I stared at him for the longest moment. I should apologize to him, I should tell him that I didn't mean what I said but all I could stifle up was a hysterical laugh. Not caring about the consequences, I gripped his shirt and pulled him into a hug. I just needed to hold him, whether he wanted me to or not. I needed assurance.

He's not gone, he's right here.

I felt him tense as I wrapped my arms around him. He wasn't expecting it, but I didn't care. "You are-" He paused as if to think of the right word to say, "upset?"

I shook my head. "No."

He didn't interrogate further, instead he surprised me by slowly pulling his arms around me. I felt my heart stop as he rested his head on my shoulder. His scent was oddly comforting, and with my head against his chest I could feel the faint beating of his heart.

I realized that I can't keep sheltering him. I'm going to have to let him outside, and teach him out to interact with other people. Not because I deserve it, but because he does. It's not fair to him to be caged like this.

He wanted to go outside in the backyard, and the moment I left he did.

He wants to be free, and I know I can't be the one to torture him by keeping him in a house his whole life.

He was to live, and I want him to live.

A part of me deep down wants him to be free, only so he'd choose to stay with me, not because he must, but because he wants to. I want to give him the choice.

First, though, he's going to have to meet someone, and I think I may know the perfect first person for him to meet.