Chapter 25

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SpongeBob was playing on the tv but I wasn't watching that.
June thirteen.
Three and a half months.
That's how long I've been here.
No longer waiting for the police to find me, sitting cozily on the couch by myself.
You had left for work a couple hours ago.
Since that day in the backyard when I had chosen not to run out the gate I had been worried about how you were going to lock me up and keep me here. So far though you have kept your word like you always have.
This house was mine, I could go where I wanted as long as I didn't make myself known. The unspoken rule that we both knew. Though we each had it for our own reasons.
Mine was to avoid life and yours was to keep me.
Both selfish and wrong but what's also wrong is the fact that the police hadn't found me sooner. Then I wouldn't be in this state of constant questioning and denial about not going home and about leaving my parents to question my life or death.
The back door was unlocked.
The gate was just a latch so why was it everytime that when I was alone and standing by the gate I couldn't get myself to open it? To just run out, away from here and go home?
I've tried so many times and yet I somehow always end up back inside.
An imprint of my butt on this cushion from the amount of time spent sitting on this couch. The tv, the only thing to keep me occupied while you were away.
At first I was nosy snooping in every drawer, behind each door. Avoiding the basement of course I already knew that room too well. I also left the bottom drawer of your dresser alone.
Not wanting to be reminded of my old life, my old self who would be so confused right now if she was here. Honestly sometimes I picture her standing in the same room screaming at me to leave, to go to our parents to get back to reality.
Though I know that she's right, I just couldn't, and there is no way to explain why.
Wishing that I had the answer.
Before you I used to think that I had life figured out.
Or figured out enough. Go to school, get good grades, laugh with my parents, hangout with Amara, get into a good college and go from there.
At least that was somewhat of a plan. Now with you, all I ever was, was confused.
Questioning life and what I should be doing, my brain, still filled with what ifs.
Like what if the sign was never there?
What if you were a serial killer?
What would have happened if I chose to fight back? Would you have let me go then?
What if someone had stopped you under that street light?
What would you be doing now if your parents had been like mine?
Would you still love to draw and build or did you find those because of the fact and if so does that mean that everything happens for a reason.
If so even with the sign gone and the bus showing up on time would we still have crossed paths, still have met each other?
People believed in fate, you sure did.
Or was everything just a coincidence?
I guess that just depended on what each person believed.
Right at this moment I couldn't say for sure.
Laughing as I remembered one of my thoughts when you had first said meeting me was fate. The road work sign that pointed you in my direction, an actual sign that brought me here.
Shrugging my shoulders as I got off the couch thinking that in a way that's actually what happened. Little random things that were in a certain place at a certain time that went to bigger things that led to this.
Almost like a carefully planned group project where everyone worked off what the other did.
That made sense.
At least to me.
Opening the freezer drawer, chill air brushing past my legs as I got out the whipped cream, closing the freezer with my foot as I twisted around grabbing a spoon from the silverware drawer.
At least I knew one thing for sure, I loved the creamy lightness of this frozen treat that I helped myself to more than I should. Something that you had noticed since you had bought three of them the last time you went to the store.
Taking the bowl as I went down the hall into the open door of my room.
A bed matching yours with the basic frame and mattress sat at the furthest fall. Set up kind of like a daybed, horizontally in the middle of the wall, the window at the edge of the footboard.
Blue sheets covered the mattress with a couple of pillows all different shades lined against the wall. Some were fluffy, others round, the poofy comforter that matched was rolled up at the edge.
The only thing that made this room mine.
When I had told you what I wanted you never even questioned me in fact you asked me if I was sure that I didn't want more.
Looking around at the bare walls that could easily be filled with shelves and ornaments and lights made me think about my room at home. My real room. This was just a shell. Temporary.
Still I have yet to sleep in that bed.
It's been up for a week now.
Moving in just made this all too final. For now the couch was my bed and it was comfy. Waking up to find a blanket covering me most of the time.
Your door was closed, it often was, I guess that was just a habit that you had. Though there was nothing to hide in there, I've been through everything except that one drawer.
Turning the knob, pressing the door open.
Was there something else in that drawer? Or was it just my clothes?
Light filled the hallway then dimmed again as you closed the front door.
Immediately pulling my hand back slamming the door into place, scrunching my neck at the sound.
Hopefully you hadn't heard that.
Not like you hadn't come home to find me in your room before.
Scooping up a spoonful filling my mouth before I walked back into the living room.
"There you are beautiful. How was your day?"
Motioning to my mouth that it was full holding up the half eaten tub, a smile on my face as you leaned down and kissed my forehead.
Digging your finger into the white fluff. "I see that we're having dessert first." Plopping the massive chunk into your mouth.
"So what's for dinner?" Wondering what it could possibly be this time. Everytime you made food it was different and so good, though I did try to help a little. Chopping up the vegetables or stirring the pan, though for the most part I just watched.
"Umm, I was thinking maybe a shrimp pasta tonight, or we could get the grill out and make some steaks. What do you think?"
"The pasta sounds good but what about instead of grilling steaks you grilled chicken and we could add that in."
Turning towards me cocking your head to the side not saying a word.
"What?" Licking of my thumb as I set the tub on the counter.
"You're just showing me again and again why I love you." Coming towards me, lifting my feet off the floor as you twirled us around. Laughing uncontrollably as I held onto your shoulders.
Everytime you lifted me I felt weightless, like I was flying and nothing could hurt me and I loved that.
"Let's go get the grill started."
Beginning to walk, not even putting me down first.
"Hey!" I squealed.
"Hi beautiful."
"No, I meant hey you can put me down now." Still chuckling as I talked looking you in the eye as you carried me further.
"Nah." Wrapping your hands around my waist, lifting me up, tossing me over your shoulder as if I was a piece of wood. "I like this view."
"Of course you do." Shaking my head even though I knew you couldn't see. Though I also had a nice view of your ass. Smacking it as soon as you walked out the back door.
"Hey!"
"Heeyyy what?" I said mockingly.
When we got to the grill you put me down, leaning over to inspect the coals still left in from roasting the marshmallows so long ago.
"These still look good to use. Just need some matches, once the fires started and this  heats up I can stick the chicken on. It will need to simmer but that will just give the pasta more time to flavor as well."
Following behind as you scooted the grill closer to the back door, then as you went to the gate almost running into you when you stopped abruptly.
You turned looking at me with almost a sad smile, your eyes cast down.
"You can't come this way."
"Right."
Of course I couldn't, how could I forget. Can't be seen. Stepping back to the right so the panel gate would block my body from sight as you disappeared through stopping to give me a warm smile before letting the latch slip back into place.
Still trapped. Even though my cage grew larger. How could I forget that?
Waiting for you to come back around though barely walked a few steps before you came back the box of matches in your hand.
What all exactly did you have in the garage?
Tools of course otherwise how would you build anything, now I knew that there were matches, probably a bag of coal.
Grinding the match head against the side creating a spark as the fire puffed out, tossing it into the grill making sure that it went through the bars to the bottom.
"Well let that heat up for a second, you want to come help me inside?"
"Sure."
Back inside the house I went like a good little pet. Crossing my arms over my chest rubbing my hands over my skin trying to comfort myself.
Instead of following you into the kitchen I made a detour to the bathroom shutting and locking the door leaning on the counter hands at either side of the sink. My chest was tight, my eyes burning from the tears that I held in.
Why haven't I left yet? What was I still doing here, I shouldn't be here.
Staring at the empty wall where there should have been a mirror.
If I asked you for one would you put one up?
No!
If I wanted a mirror then I had one in my bathroom at home, better yet I had plenty in my own bedroom.
Gripping the handle, turning the water on, letting the sound of flowing water fill my ears. Closing my eyes forcing a tear out, sliding down to my chin. Forcing myself to take a deep breath as I cupped my hands under the faucet.
Cold water running over my wrists, down my palms, liquid overflowing. Mesmerized by the ripples that circled and ran past my folded hands.
Leaning my head down as I splashed the handful at my face, liquid pouring down my next soaking the collar of my shirt.
The cool water felt good against my hot skin, cupping some more water holding my hands to my forehead letting the amount drain slowly.
I had to leave, the next time you were gone I would go.
Yeah, that's what I had to do. That was right. Go home, be with my parents, sleep in my own bed.
Fingers wrapping around the edge of the counter, arms shaking from how hard I grasped on, my eyes shut tight, teeth clenched.
Why did going home feel so wrong?
Arms wrapping around my stomach pulling me backwards into your chest as you laid your head on top of my skull.
Hadn't I locked the door when I came in?
The thumping of your heart beating on my left shoulder blade, pounding hard though your breathing was soft, your chest rising and deppleating slowly. My back, melting into your chest.
We stood there like that for a long time, you just holding me as I held onto the counter. Water was still running, hearing it bubble as it flowed down the drain.
"Can we get a mirror?"
"Of course we can." Not even missing a beat on your answer.
Letting my grip go as I turned towards you, your arms now around my lower back. Hugging you, pulling you close as I rested my head on your chest, your hand moving though my hair.
"I'll get you whatever you want. I just want you to be happy."
Lifting my head up looking at you, the corners of your lips slightly upturned as you looked back. Those dark brown eyes with specs of green around the pupils. Eyes that have seen so much. Ridges going along my arms from the scars on your back. What should be smooth skin that had been torn to shreds. Visible trauma though it probably didn't even get close to showing just how much abuse you've kept inside to yourself.
You wanted connection, I wanted freedom.
That was something that I couldn't have if I stayed here.
I've seen tears fall from those eyes, seen you when you were so lost in your own head.
What would you do when I leave?
Holding you tighter as I imagined the agony and anger and sadness that you would feel. Imagining you punching through walls with your strength then falling to the ground in fits of tears.
I didn't want to do that to you, make you feel all those things. I didn't want to hurt you.
Yet that would happen eventually, I couldn't stay in this house for the rest of my life.
Like the words you had told me for days after I woke up in your basement. 'It just takes time.'
"We better go make sure the food isn't burning." Leaning around to twist the knob shutting off the water leaving us in silence.
Grabbing a hold of your hand to lead you out of the bathroom but you didn't budge. Looking back at you, seeing that look on your face like you wanted to tell me something but you were fighting to find the right words.
Rubbing my thumb over your palm as I waited there, not wanting to rush you like you always did for me.
Your sight caught on my touch watching my thumb move over your skin, back and forth. Pupils moving side to side as you followed my movement, giving your hand a light squeeze as I smiled over at you.
Shaking your head, such a small movement that I wouldn't have seen unless I was watching. Then your whole body seemed to loosen and that sideways grin was on your face, giving my hand a squeeze as you nodded past me.
Walking out of the bathroom down the hall dropping your hand as you went into the kitchen, moving from counter to fridge to stove, stirring in spices, making sure everything was cooking properly.
What were you thinking about? What were you going to say?
This was the first time I knew you not to say something, usually you were so forward always knowing what to do like you did right now with cooking.
Were you thinking about the future?
About how I almost followed you out the gate. Were you sad that I couldn't come or were you more worried that I would be found.
Peeking over your shoulder to look at me as I leaned against the wall, arms hanging down by my sides, fingers brushing against my leg hair, twirling the strands around.
"I was thinking, next week, why don't we go on a trip. Outside in the woods, go for a hike and a picnic. Get out of the house for a while. What do you think?"
"That sounds amazing."
"Of course we would have to find a way to sneak you out of the house and you would have to stay hidden the whole way there."
"I figured that."
Drying your hands on a towel tossing it onto your shoulder as you walked up to me. Reaching out, placing your hand under my chin raising my head up. Eyes so intense with emotion I almost had to look away. Knowing what you were going to say before the words even left your mouth.
"I love you."
Moving my head looking down at my feet.
"I know."
"It won't be like this forever."
No it won't.
Because I was leaving.
Nodded my head to myself, agreeing that it was the right thing to do. Of course you thought I was nodding to what you had said, planting a kiss on the top of my head as you walked back to the stove.
"Well have fun on our hike, we could even go fishing if that's something you want to do. Or we could just walk around and explore whatever you want to do Sarah."
Hoping that my smile was genuine as I looked back over at you knowing that the trip was never going to happen.
Knowing that soon I would be gone, away from you and your words and smile and touch.
Though I don't think it would ever be possible for me to forget your face.
Fluffy dark brown hair that frames your face, falling over your eyebrows and now falling over your eyes. Eyes that had so many colors in them when you looked close enough but so deep and strong when you saw them from far away. Those lips that I have kissed so many times, that were soft and plump and could make my stomach flutter every time you smiled.
No I don't think I could ever forget your face, or your touch that held fire. That made me melt into you and made me feel safe. Or your strength everytime you carried me or picked my body up as if I weighed nothing. How you held me so gently, cradling my curled up body to you when I was upset, fitting perfectly into your chest.
Eyes lighting up every time you told me a story or sitting quietly everytime I talked leaning forward to listen, so interested.
How when you laughed your entire body shook and you didn't look older or strong, you just looked carefree.
Or how you would lose yourself in a drawing as it took your complete and utter focus.
Suddenly remembering the drawing that you had done of me, still down in the basement laying on the floor.
Weird how I haven't thought about that in so long.
Knowing that I couldn't take that with me when I leave even though I wanted to.
At least you would have a picture of me, my smiling portrait that was in your sketchbook, how happy I was in that drawing.
Would you stare at that image after I was gone? Longing at it for hours wishing that I was still here? Or would you refuse to look at it knowing that I was just another person that left you?
Picking up my hand laying it over my necklace that rested in between my collar bones.
The excitement in your voice when you told me how you came across it as you placed it on me.
Knowing that you could have carved it from wood and I still would have loved it.
Looking up at you, as you opened the top cabinet grabbing out some plates. 
My heart stopped.
Gulping, as I took a step back. Shaking my head.
This couldn't be.
And yet it was.
I loved you.







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