The Runaway

Chapter 33

We have been trying to figure out what the numbers mean. They're in sections, with dashes between them. There is a group of three, a dash, three more, another dash and the last four.

"This is fun," he mumbles.

"How?"

"Uncovering secrets. It's fun."

I flop on the bed. Sitting became too exhausting. What was the human trying to tell us? Does he need help with something? I'm too confused and stressed to figure this out.

I'm still covered in dirt, mud. I feel disgusting and I have no clothes to change- oh, I do, my dress. That helped some.

"Do you think the human needs help?"

He shrugs.

"Would I be a bad person if I didn't try to help?"

"Not if you can't."

"Can I?"

"Probably not."

I look at his pretty, wet hair. It's shiny and silver now. The shorter hair blending in with the longer hair. He folds the paper into a super tiny square, gets up and throws it in the garbage bin. He looks at me for a few seconds, shaking his head after turning back around.

"You're a mess."

"You too."

He takes off his jacket and holds his hand to me, closing and opening it. I hold out my hand. He pulls the sleeve. Oh. I take off my jacket and hand it to him.

"I want to figure out how the television works."

He opens the other door connected to the room, on edge before walking in. I see the weird waterfall contraption. He walks out, empty handed and sits on the bed, the normal way. His legs lay over mine with his ankles crossed. I should stop laying horizontally on the bottom of beds.

"Why?"

"Because humans love them and they're everywhere; I want to see why there is the obsession."

He hums before getting the book from the bag and reading it. He must love that book. Next time I run away to explore, I'll take more things with me. I could just bring him with me. He must have experience with this.

"You know, the man was trying to wed his hand and mine."

"Is that so?"

He flips the page on the book. The sound echoes in the quiet room. The outside of the room is loud, but not in here.

"Yep. I was shocked."

"Doesn't he know that you need your hand?"

"That's what I was thinking. Humans are confusing."

He nods. I pull my legs from under him and walk over to the television. It is on top of a table that is right above my hip. I don't want to hurt his ears again.

"Do you think the humans would tell us how to work it?"

"Possibly."

"Come with me."

"Why?"

"I don't want to get kidnapped again."

He pulls a knife from under his sleeve and holds it out to me. I walk over and take it. He looks up at me.

"Good luck."

He goes back to reading. I stand here for a moment, trying to see if he's messing with me. To no avail, he doesn't get up. I whisk out of the room with my bare feet, dense anxiety, longing for home and this knife.