Chapter 23

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Fully summersing my hard boiled egg into the blue dye, letting it soak in there for a second before pulling out a light blue egg. Using a napkin to dry off the excess color making sure that I liked the blue before dipping the bottom larger half barley into the green. Looking over at my other eggs that I've already done.
Most of them, dark with spots left open from the clear waxy crayon that I used for the designs.
Constellations, the night sky. Most of them were sloppy and you could only tell what they were if you knew what you were looking at but they were fun to make.
Lifting the egg out of the dye, using a green crayon to make the blades of grass. Adding a sun in the top part though when it came to adding a house or people I was stuck.
Right now my egg pictured a sunny day with an open field. Endless possibilities.
Imagining myself there laying in the grass under the sun's rays. Alone. With nothing to worry about. Totally free.
How I missed filling the warmth on my skin.
Sitting in your kitchen on the tile floor, fluorescent light bulbs above, so quiet that I could hear the refrigerator running to cool down the insides.
So focused on your egg, I couldn't tell what it was but the one you had finished already was a dragon's eye filled with so much detail and color it put my eggs to shame. Making it known even more now that I hadn't been gifted any of my mom's art genes.
Both of my parents had their passions, knew exactly what they wanted to do with their lives and made it happen. Me on the other hand, I've never even been close to deciding what it was that I wanted to do.
Art and drawing were not something that I would make any money off of and I knew that I didn't want to be stuck in an office all day like my dad.
Though I did know that I wanted to do something, unlike those people who could spend their entire lives in their rooms. I liked to explore, look up at the stars. Amara had said once that I should become an astronaut, see the stars up close but I knew that was not the right thing.
Being trapped in a spaceship was not what I wanted besides I liked admiring the balls of gas from afar.
Though she might have had a point, maybe there was a job where I could just study the stars all day. Become a science museum tour guide and tell all the little kids the stories of the past.
That could be fun, though it probably didn't make very much and having to deal with all the little kids who didn't even want to listen in the first place would become old very very quickly.
I wonder when I get out of here will I have to redo my sophomore year? Take the classes over again or would all my extra credits make up for that lost time. Would they just let me be a junior, give me that pass after all this?
How would you react in a jail cell?
Would you fight back if someone attacked you or would you just keep to yourself? Would the love you said you had for me turn to hate for being the reason you were there? Though it would have been your fault, not mine considering that you were the one who brought me here in the first place.
What if you ran before they came back for you?
Would I always be looking over my shoulder waiting for you to grab me again?
Though there was still the option that you would let me go.
Doubtful.
Though what if you did. Would you just open the front door and let me through? Would you drive me to my street and drop me off like nothing even happened?
Imagining myself racing to my front door knocking like crazy until someone answered, sweeping them up in a bear hug and not letting go.
What would my answer be when they asked what happened?
Would I tell them that you took me, tell them your name and describe the house I was in?
I would, wouldn't I?
That would be the right thing to do.
Get you locked up so that you couldn't reach me anymore. Couldn't hold me or talk to me.
That would be the only answer.
My only way to freedom.
Looking down at the egg in my hand not realizing that the entire time I had been thinking that I had been scribbling with the black crayon. The beautiful clean open grass field was now covered in dark angry lines going everywhere. A cloud of mess destroying the picture and accurately depicting my life right now.
One side untouched and open until you turned it around to find the destruction.
Placing it along with the others in the carton. My last one and probably my favorite.
Sitting there in silence, hand grazing along the diamonds of the Ursa Major.
Alkaid, Mizar, Alioth, Megrez, Phecda, Merak, and Dubhe.
"You can do some more if you want to." Pointing to the ones in your stack.
Shaking my head, getting up to pour myself a glass of apple juice.
"You want some?"
"Sure I'd love some."
Reaching back up into the cabinet for another cup tipping the gallon sized bottle over filling it about half way before passing it to you.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Taking a drink as my thoughts wandered back to the bottom drawer.
Completely content, focusing on the marks you were making. Would you notice if I walked out?
Deciding that I didn't care as I left you on the floor walking through the living room pulling away the curtains to look outside.
Sun shining through the window pane. Scooting the blinds away to give myself full view.
The fence was tall, a light tan color now that I had the light to see. Guessing that you most likely built the entire thing by yourself. 
No one could see in and I couldn't see out.
Turning around, you hadn't followed, maybe I could slip away.
Letting the blinds go as I wrapped my fingers around the metal knob, twisting it as I unlocked the deadbolt, looking over my shoulder, nothing.
Hmmm.
Pressing my hand on the door frame, making sure to open the back door as quietly as possible. Only enough for me to slide my body through.
Outside. During the day.
I had to focus, work fast before you decided to come out as well.
Last time I had looked over to the left so this time I went the other way and sure enough there was the gate.
Right in the open, on the side of the cream colored brick.
Black hinges and mechanisms above the curved decorative handle.
Simple lift and pull.
Was it unlocked?
Hand shaking as I put my hand out, easily raising the cover that held the bar in place.
Waiting to be pulled away. Taken back inside. Checking the door seeing that it was still closed, I was still alone. Pulling the wooden fence to me, stomach in my throat as the gate actually opened.
This was it.
I was going home.
Peeking between the opening, seeing houses across the street, cars driving down the road.
All I had to do was wave one down and get help.
Yank the fence open and run.
Be back with my family with Amara.
Get my life back.
Go back to school. Hang out at the malls, be able to talk to different people.
Answer all the questions that were surely to come.
Tell people what happened here as it broadcasted over the news.
'Sarah Wilson, found after months of being gone. Story coming later to answer upon the events that she encountered and how she will deal with the Stockholm syndrome that she had developed to survive.'
Hinge shutting as the bar slid back into place.
Did I really want everyone to know? One thing I've always hated was being in the spotlight and when I came back that's all that was going to happen.
Endless questions, random people taking my picture, stories upon stories hitting the internet. I would be famous.
So would you.
Everyone would know your face.
Assume your story about what caused you to do this.
Though they wouldn't know the truth.
They wouldn't even care too.
All they would see is a monster.
But you weren't a monster, not to me, not anymore.
Backing away from my exit, taking a few deep breaths. My heart beat slowed down as I moved further away. For some reason this felt right. As confusing as that sounded.
Blades of grass sweeping across my feet as I took each step, soft, tickling the sides of my ankles.
Warm air breezed by, someone was barbecuing.
Could smell the meat cooking, looking up, noticing the smoke rising a little ways away.
Normal people making dinner. Living their lives in this normal neighborhood.
How would they be affected when this got out? Police tape around this house as the cops looked for evidence of me being here. Would they still think of this as a safe neighborhood, what if they had kids? Would they uproot their entire lives just to get away?
The story of my kidnapping being the talk of everyone that lived here, let alone what people would say when someone else moved into the vacant house.
The question always in the back of their minds. How could they live next to someone and not know what was happening. Blaming themselves for not being more vigilant, for not stopping it sooner.
Far enough away from the house that I could see it clearly. The window that was part of the living room, the back door a white cream color that looked as if it had been aged by the sun and dirt. Then the window that led to my room.
My room.
Saying that again still not believing those words. Head falling down looking at the grass and dandelions that grew seeing the basement that laid under part of the living room. There was more space, maybe there was a garage in the front that would make sense. Was that were you kept all your tools?
This normal looking house, with a normal backyard placed in the middle of more normal houses.
Just by looking you would never be able to guess what was inside.
That for weeks I had been trapped in the basement bound by my neck, nor would they know that right now we were decorating eggs.
Shaking my head, I had to be crazy for not leaving, for not taking my chance.
Though people also wouldn't know just how close you and I have been either, which I was glad for. It wasn't anyone else's business what we did behind closed doors.
What I let you do, or that I liked it, wanted it even.
Closing my eyes listening to the birds chirp, wind blowing through the leaves of a tree, feeling the sun on my skin seeping through.
The peace from all of it.
Peace that would be lost the second I made myself known.
Was I really ready for that?
To get back to my life where all I really did was work my but off and for what? To get into a good college so I could work even harder to get a job and work some more?
Amaras words ringing through my head 'girl you need to give yourself a break, go live your life. There's more out there than just making sure to get good grades.' All the times I stayed up late finishing assignments, drinking extra coffees just to stay awake during class. Every time I had to cancel on hanging out because I was too focused on making sure that a project was the best it could be.
Through it all Amara stayed by me.
Realizing now that she was right.
I did need to stop.
I guess in a way you had realized that too. Maybe it was fate that brought you to me, why I am here now.
The world forcing me to take a step away, to look at my life from a different point of view.
I was definitely crazy.
Only a lunatic or someone with brain damage would go back inside the house of their kidnapper and yet that's where I was going. Back through the door shutting it behind me slowly, listening for you, hearing papers rustling around in the kitchen.
Had you not known I was gone?
"How was it outside?" Your question answering mine. Of course you knew where I was.
"It was." Pausing looking for the right word. "Refreshing."
Seeing you lean up against the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room drying your colored stained hands off with a washcloth.
Smile planted on your lips as you looked at me, eyes sparkling with joy. Was that because I had come back in when you knew the gate was unlocked? Did you mean to leave the gate open? What am I saying of course you did. Everything you did was planned.
So what was going through your head right now? Knowing that I hadn't run. Did I even want to know?
"Are you hungry?"
"No."
"Is there anything that you want to do?"
Thinking it over. There really wasn't much to do besides watch tv or play cards and I don't feel like doing either. Shrugging my shoulders not.
You left then, going out the back door.
What were you up to?
Knowing that look of determination in your eyes. Was that a good thing or bad thing?
Moments past before you peeked your head back through the door.
"Come outside."
What did you have this time?
Curious, I came over as you opened the door for me. Looking out past you seeing two wooden square like bench things on the grass with a pile of shiny metal sitting next to each one.
Looking behind me at the gate, you must have gone around and gotten these from the garage because there was nowhere else they could have been stashed out here.
Getting closer I saw that the bench-like thing had hole in the middle of the flat surface with a border going around the two sides and back. Leaning down to pick up one of the doughnut looking round pieces surprised by the weight.
"Washers." You said answering the question I had been thinking.
"Ok so what is this?"
"It's a game kind of similar to cornhole. Have you ever played that before?"
"You mean the game that people sometimes play at weddings."
"Sure, I guess so." Laughing as you leaned down to grab a washer yourself.
"Basically you stand behind your board and try to toss this on to my board over there. Your main focus is to get it into the hole because that's three points, if you make it onto the flat surface you get one point. However if you somehow manage to balance it on one of the edge parts and it stays there until the end of your turn you get five points."
"Sounds easy enough."
"Alright." Handing me the washer you had been holding. "Do you want some practice throws or do you want to start a game?"
"Why not just start, I'm probably going to suck either way."
"Who knows you could end up kicking my butt, well just have to see."
"So how do we know who wins?"
"The game goes up to twenty one so whoever gets that first wins though if I hit twenty one and let's say you're at eighteen and you still have one turn left then you have a chance at beating me."
I held the washer between my forefinger and thumb tossing it forward watching as it landed inches away from the board to the right. Trying again with the theory one I had in my hand, this time the throw was too short. Bending down picking up my last shot, leaning forward moving my arm up and down making sure I had my aim right.
Clunk. As the metal hit against the side of the wood and rolled on the grass.
Crap.
"Don't worry you'll get the hang of it."
The first one you tossed landed directly onto the board, your next one clinking against the first jumping to the back corner. Looking over, seeing how you laid the washer in the open part of your palm not even holding on as you let it fly from your hand. It's one landing dead center.
"Five points for me."
Alright, I can do this. Gathering the washers quickly holding their weight in my left hand.
Waiting as you scrounged around picking up my horrible tosses, moving one washer to my right hand. Copying you holding my hand up where I wanted my shot to go then steadily bringing my arm down before hurriedly bringing my hand up letting the metal soar across this time landing on the actual board.
Immediately repeating that same action determined to find my rhythm.
This one came up short and I shook that off trying a new tactic by leaning my  right shoulder forward getting me just a tiny bit closer.
Washer flipping mid air already seeing that it was off course smacking myself in the head, as your body convulsed and noise rang through my eardrums.
"Are you laughing at me?"
Shutting your mouth shaking your head shoulders scrunched up.
"You are."
"No I'm not."
Adam's apple bobbing up and down.
"Uh huh." Staring you down with one eye squinted. "It's your turn."
"I, I, captain." 
This time however you ended up missing every shot.
"See that's what you get for laughing at me." Teasing you as I added the third washer onto my index finger. "Now, watch how it's done."
Eyes locked on the hole refusing to lose my focus hovering my hand out in front of me bouncing it a couple times before I let it go.
Swoosh, right in the center. I couldn't believe it. Raising my head to yours as you stared my way shaking your head as you chuckled.
"Alright show off, do that again."
Regaining my composure as I lined up my aim, unfortunately this one didn't quite make it in the hole nut it landed on the board.
We kept on going like that and somehow I had ended up winning the game but I also had a sneaking suspicion that you purposely messed up some of your shots. After that we played a couple more times.
Catching your eye a few times during, realizing then that I no longer had fear of you. In all honesty you were a really good guy, to me at least I still didn't know how you were out in the world. Though if you kept on getting hired on for jobs that seemed to pay you well then you couldn't have been an asshole to your clients.
This was it, just us, in our own little bubble.
A place where nobody could interfere and we could stay away from the rules of the world.
Light bulb exploded as I came to the realization that that was what you had wanted from the start. Now I was thinking just like you.
Was that because I had been spending so much time with you?
Or was it because I came to that logic from everything that I've been through?
Or there was also the possibility that you finally succeeded at brainwashing me so well that I didn't want to leave.
Sleeves of my shirt buttoned at my wrists something I had to do because the rolls would unravel every time I tossed a washer. The tan flannel resting against my skin stopping just past my hips, the top part undone revealing my collar bones, hair blowing in the wind.
Never would I have ever gone outside like this before and now I didn't even give it a second guess.
Laying on the ground arm over your face protecting your eyes from the sunlight wearing a grey shirt and jeans though your feet were bare, toes curled up in the grass.
Just looking at you made me smile and I couldn't explain that.
All I knew was that you made me laugh and smile, you took care of me when I wasn't at my best, nursed me back to health when I had gone silent. Somehow you always found a way to make me happy.
Kneeling down on the ground next to you, surprising you enough to move your arm away as I laid my head on your chest making myself comfortable as you moved your arm around my shoulder resting your hand on my side.
Each of us staring out at the sky as I interlock my fingers with yours.
Thinking about nothing at all.
The sounds of your breathing and heart beat mixing with everything else.
My other hand grazed over your knuckles as neither of us said a word.
Scanning the clouds above, following them as they moved through the sky. Birds flapping by, a plane with its loud engine roaring through the sky leaving behind a line of exhaust showing where it had been.
Never in my life had I been on a plane, trying to imagine what they saw from up there.
Probably just colors from the roofs of the houses and green from the grass and trees. So high up, so far away.
Giving them another view.
Though too far away to know anything for sure.
What did the clouds look like to them? Could they see through them? Were they like cotton balls? Did they get high enough to fly above them?
That would be interesting, to fly so high that all you saw below was white almost as if you were in a dream.

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