《Three Eleven Thirteen》Chapter Thirty-Seven

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Chapter Thirty-Seven

My heart is beating against my rib-cage, as I watch the figure slowly stand, and walk over to me. I can't see who they are, but they smell like rain and earth, and their hand reaches out and touches me, it's cold, and wet from being outside. And then they speak, an all-too familiar voice, but I don't know how. "Ripley." It said, but it isn't possible.

"Ellie?" I'm crying harder now, this isn't real. I'm dreaming, and Marley is still on top of me, and I'm miserable and I'm wishing I was dead.

"I'm here now, Ripley."

I reach out and touch the figure's face. It's covered in what I think is mud, but it's his face. I know it's his face. I touch his clothes, I feel the hole where the bullet went through, and I feel the thickness of his dried blood surrounding it. When I can't take it anymore, I pull him towards me and wrap my arms around his chest. Beneath the smell of blood, earth, and rain, I smell him, Ellie, my Ellie.

This is real. He is real. Ellie is really here.

I'm crying hard now, sobbing into his chest, not caring how filthy he is. He has his arms around me and stays quiet, allowing me to cry. Finally when I'm able to speak I say, "You were dead, I thought you were dead."

"I did not die."

"It's been almost a week." The fact that I managed even that without getting killed or seriously hurt is a miracle itself.

He was silent for a moment, as if he truly did not realize it had been that long, then he says, "A week?" I nod into his chest.

"I did not know." He eventually responds, and neither of us say anything after that.

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He slowly pulls me to my feet, and though I'm still holding on to him like he is my lifeline, he guides me out of the house. My legs are shaking from Marley being on top of me, and I try not to think about what would have happened if Ellie hadn't come when he did.

I bury my face into his chest once more, breathing him in, making sure he really is here. I don't ever want to let go of him again.

We walk through the front door. It's still storming, but I don't care. The fresh outdoor air sent chills throughout my body. I never thought I'd see the world again. I never thought I'd leave the house alive.

As we begin to walk down the long farm driveway, rain soaks the both of us, and I'm grateful for it. I imagine each individual rain drop washing Marley's touch away. He will never be able to touch me, or anyone else again.

We eventually make it to the main road and take shelter underneath a large tree. The night is dark, despite the bit of lightning that still explodes in the sky, but I don't care. I have never felt safer than right now.

We sit underneath the tree. I'm leaning against Ellie's chest; I can feel his heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. Finally I ask him, "What did he do to you? Where were you." He was covered in dirt, and I don't want him to answer even though I asked, but he does.

"Earth." He says, "With the insects. I felt the worms on my skin."

"He buried you?"

"Yes."

I shiver, "And he shot you."

"Yes."

"But," I run my hand across the part of his body that the wound should be, there is no wound. "I don't even see a scar."

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"Yes."

I don't pursue the conversation any further than that because I don't think I want to know, instead I say, "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you."

"Sorry."

"Yes. I'm sorry. You told me to leave and I didn't. You told me you felt bad about him, and yet I ignored you."

He doesn't say anything for a long moment, and I begin to think he isn't going to until he speaks up, "I was not sure." He admits, "I was not sure if my doubts were real."

"They were more than real." I mutter, "He was a nightmare."

"He is dead. I killed another person, Ripley."

"He deserved to die."

"I do not know anymore." He takes a breath, "I do not know what is right or wrong, but I would do it again. I will kill him again if I could."

I'm crying again, and I don't know why, "You don't realize if you hadn't come in when you did-"

"Yes," He cuts me off so quickly that I'm choking on the words I was going to say next, "I know." Does he know? I'm not sure how he is aware of sex, or what it means when one doesn't consent to it, but I don't question him.

I latch onto him even tighter the more I think about everything. The feeling of misery and suffocation that I had felt when I was so sure he was dead, haunts me. I don't know if I could ever live through feeling that again.

I didn't realize just how much I loved him until he was gone.

We stay under the tree until the storm passes. It's nearly dawn at this point, the clouds disperse, and the sky is turning from black to a soft purple. Ellie and I begin our walk once more. It's like nothing happened, nothing hindered us. We are still heading towards Riley's house, and we won't stop until we get there.

And then, perhaps we can go home.

I'm exhausted for being awake all night, in fact, I barely slept all week, but still, I power on. I glance at Ellie who walks intently beside me. He had it worse than I did, getting shot, and buried, and yet he walks like nothing happened at all. I don't know how he heals so quickly; I don't know how his body works. I've known him for what feels like years, but I still don't know him, not really.

His body is amazing, as it is a little terrifying.

Whatever it is that he's made of, I'm sure that Riley would know, all we have to do, is get him there, and then maybe we can finally rest.

Rest; I think about it, a concept I've been unable to do for months. Since my father died, I feel like I haven't been able to live carelessly. After everything that has happened this past week, I'm not even sure I'll be able to, even if I tried.

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