Chapter Forty-Three

I wake up to find Ellie not laying beside me. The bed is empty and cold, and the room is dark from it being only two in the morning. "Ellie?" I call out, and he answers me softly, as though he is afraid to wake me, even though I am clearly awake.

"I am here." He responds, and when I slowly move to get out of the bed, I pull on the string attached to the light, and the room lights up. Ellie is sitting on a chair, his arm dripping black. At first, I'm horrified as I assume he's cut himself again, but taking another look, I realize it's his old wound, the stitches must have reopened.

"I'll go get a towel for you." I say, not bothering to hear his reply as I move quickly down the stairs and grab some towels and bandages that Riley had left out for emergencies just like this. When I return to the attic, he refuses to allow me to go near him. He staggers dizzily off the chair, and against the window. I do not know what to do but throw the towel at him hoping he'd be able to catch it. He did.

"Put pressure on it." I tell him as if he does not already know.

"Do you want me to wake up Riley?" I ask when he doesn't say anything.

"No." Was his simple answer.

"Don't you think you should have him see the wound? It could get infected."

"I could infect him." He is staring at me now, a deeply intent gaze that makes me nervous but allured all at once. His words have an underlying meaning. I know he is comfortable around Riley, but I don't think it is he that he is scared of infected.

I sigh and sit on the bed. I don't know what to say, so he and I both stay silently, as he also sits back down on the chair when he concludes that I won't be rash enough to go near him. He presses the towel against his arm, and the white cotton immediately soaks up the liquid black.

When the silence is overwhelming, and I desperately try to not think about the fact that I have potentially lost my only friend, I say, "I'm going to go to college." The words slip from my tongue so effortlessly, and I'm happy that they are out. It is my confirmation, that yes, I am going to begin my life once more.

I feel his gaze on me, but I can't look at him. My eyes are glued to the floor as I continue, "I think it is time I make something of myself."

"You will leave me?"

My heart clenches, "I don't have to leave you." I glance up, "I can get a job, perhaps even an apartment. We can live together."

He notices the catch in my tone, he knows it is not that simple. I wish it was. "You do not want to, though."

"Of course I do." I argue, "But I think it is the opposite." I force myself to say it, "I think it is you who does not want to be near me."

"You know I cannot."

"Yes." I say, "I know." A pause, "Or perhaps it has nothing to do with that." I look at him now, "You're scared what happened to Marley will happen to me."

"Yes." He responds, "And you will be infected with black." He lifts his arm up and by removing the towel, drips of his blood trail down his arm.

"We kissed several times before. I never got infected."

"I do not know why."

"So maybe the blood isn't so toxic."

"Your father is dead."

"Because you bit him!" I realize I'm raising my voice, and quickly lower my tone, "But how is that any different than a kiss? I should be infected already, several times by now, but I never have been. Maybe it's like the girl in Riley's story."

He narrows, "I do not understand."

"The girl, Rosie? Riley said that she, although intertwined with the extra-terrestrial, she never became possessed with the power of the blood because he refused to give her more than he knew she could handle. What if it's similar with me and you?"

"I can not handle it either, Ripley."

"But you are, and you have been."

"I am not an alien."

"You aren't an alien, but you have the blood and you haven't gone mad, is that not worth contemplating?"

Apparently not, as he didn't respond. I watched him try to stitch back up his arm. Many times I asked him if I could help, or if I could go and wake Riley, but he refused both offers.

We didn't go back to sleep. I was wide awake for the rest of the night, and so was he. When Riley awoke, he warned us that Joy would be coming home today, and that Ellie needed to control himself despite him already doing so.

I was nervous to meet Joy again. How do you ask a woman if you can live in her attic for the foreseeable future?

Riley didn't look too confident either. And when Joy arrived home in the middle of the evening, we were all at a loss for words.

Riley attempted to defuse his wife by sitting her on the couch and explaining why he felt Ellie was his responsibility, even though, in reality Ellie was mine. At first she didn't take it well. Riley had left out the parts where Ellie had killed previously, and still, she was not convinced.

"They're good kids, Joy." Riley was at his wits end. "You know they are."

"It's a machine!" She pointed to Ellie, "You know how people feel about things like him now days, with that whole movement-"

"He's not a machine." Riley and I say in unison. And she just shakes her head.

"Whatever he is, he can't stay here."

I move closer to her, "Please, we have nowhere else to go."

"Joy, we can't just throw them on the streets." Riley insists.

She watches us, her gaze unwavering. I am sure she won't give in, but as Riley reaches out and takes her hand, she sighs, her stiff shoulders slump in a position of defeat, "You're all the worst." Is all she says, and I fight back a relieved smile.

Ellie stands, and slowly makes his way to the kitchen, where we can hear the back door open and gently close. I know that he is going to the shed, and I ponder whether I should follow him or not.

Joy wordlessly takes her suitcase upstairs, clearly still upset about everything. Riley runs after her, and I let them work it out. I stay on the couch, and I can hear them argue in their bedroom even when the door is shut.

Bored I stand and wander aimlessly around the house. There is nothing for me to do, as normally I'd accompany Ellie, but it seems he doesn't want me around, and I don't dare to go to Riley right now, so I decide I'll walk around the neighborhood, since it seems we'll be staying here for a little while.

I pull on my shoes and exit the house, not bothering to tell anyone that I have gone.