Uncaged

1 A.M.

When Millie opened the door, she noticed grandpa sitting in a chair in the front room, wringing his hands. As soon as Millie stepped into the room, though, grandpa bolted up from his seat and dashed up to her, wide awake now.

"Millie!" He ran up to his granddaughter, opening his arms for a hug but then stopping himself. If he was trying to hide the concern on his face, he was doing a poor job. The guilt pounded in Millie's chest when she saw how tired and worried her grandfather looked.
"Grandpa..." she muttered, wrapping her arms around him.

Grandpa held her tight in return, sighing. "Millie, dear, are you alright? I was worried sick about you. What happened? Are you hurt?" His eyes searched her for any sign of harm.

She never normally liked hugs. Before, she felt they were unnecessary. But now, as she stood there with her grandfather as they held each other close and right, she realized that hugs did feel kind of good. It definitely helped lift a bit of that weight off of her chest.

"I'm fine. Thanks. I'm not hurt or anything." She stepped back, putting her hands in her hoodie pocket.

"You really gave me a scare, Millie. You've been gone for..." grandpa checked his watch, "Seven hours! I tried texting you, but you left your phone and your coat," he shook his head, a look of disappointment taking over his expression for a moment. "Where were you?"

"I, um, went to your workshop...I meant to come back, but I, uh..." lie, think of a lie.... "I...fell asleep."

Grandpa sighed and put his hands on his hips, frowning. "Of course, the workshop...why didn't I check there?" He shook his head. "Well, next time you storm out on us, don't forget your phone, girlie. I don't want anything to happen to you."

He was...looking for me?

Millie felt weird, realizing just how much her family cared for her. She never thought about how her family would react if she simply disappeared one day. She always wished she could, but that was before she realized the effect that might have had on herself, and on others.
Millie peered at the clock on the wall—as to distract herself from her guilt—which read 1 A.M.

He stayed up till midnight looking and waiting for me?

He would've waited for much longer if...

She shook the thoughts out of her head. "I'm sorry. I really am." A lump formed in her throat. She bit her lip in an attempt to hold back her tears, but her voice was quivering now.

"It's...it's okay, Millie. I'm just glad you're alright." He sighed, pursing his lips. "Next time you want to storm out and prove a point like that, bring your phone with you. And your coat, too. Or better, just talk to me if you're feeling down."

"Alright, grandpa. I...I won't do that again." Millie stared down at her feet in shame.

There was a pause between the two for a few moments.

"Are you hungry? I got this fake vegetarian turkey thingy for you, if you want to eat."

Millie looked back at her grandfather, who looked somewhat relieved, but still concerned. She paused for a moment. She didn't realize how hungry she was until her nerves died down a little.

"Yeah...that sounds fine, grandpa."

"I'll heat it up for you with some green bean casserole and potatoes."

"Thanks, grandpa," a small smile spread on her face. "I appreciate it." A wave of fatigue seemed to hit her out of nowhere. "I think I'm going to go shower, now. I'll be out in a bit."

"Alright, Millie. Your food will be done in a bit, so don't take too long." He ran a hand through his short grey hair. "Oh, and your aunt and uncle and cousins are asleep in the guest room. Try not to wake them up."

"Alright." Millie turned away from her grandfather and started towards her room. She needed some time to herself. She needed some time to process everything that had happened in the last few hours.

When she got to her room and started getting her pajamas from a drawer, she realized tears were running down her face. When did that happen? Sometimes, she felt like her emotions had a mind of her own. I need to learn to control my emotions.

She stood up and quietly made her way down the hall towards the bathroom. She flipped the light switch, illuminating the small room in pale yellow light. She turned to her reflection in the little mirror above the old sink, studying the girl in front of her.

Her eyes and cheeks were shiny, light reflecting off of the tears that poured down her face, which somehow looked slightly paler and more stressed than usual. The area around her eyes was slightly red and puffy from all of the crying she'd done the past few hours. The stress and fear she felt made itself apparent with her tears, her tears that stained her sleeve when she wiped them away.

"I don't want to die," she whispered to the shaken girl in the mirror. "Don't let me die...please..."