Split

Good Person

I was locked back in my room when it was time for Patricia to leave, and I heard her getting changed outside. I wondered who was going to be here next and looked through the crack in the door. I saw Dennis leave quickly, glancing briefly in my direction, and I sighed. He wasn't going to talk to me, I could see that from his wary expression. Hedwig would have to be the one to talk to next.

I waited around all day for someone to return, there was nothing to do in the small room and I couldn't sleep, so I sat around twiddling my thumbs and hoped that Hedwig would be the next person to walk through my door.

After what seemed like days, the outside door clicked open and I trotted over to see who was there. Dennis was back, carrying a bag, and his eyes once again fixed on my door. He looked around, making sure no one was there, before stepping towards me. He looked at the keys in his hand before glancing round the room again, and then unlocked the door. I ran back to my bed and sat with my legs crossed, not wanting him to think that I had been watching him.
He looked into the room and glowered at me, "I'm just here to drop these off," he remembered himself and pressed his lips shut before walking over to me and placing the bag on my bed. It had new clothes in it.

"Dennis?" I saw my opportunity to finish what I'd started the day before.

"I'm not supposed to talk to you," he said flatly.

"I know, but... I want to talk to you. I'm sorry about what I said, I wasn't thinking. It was insensitive of me."

"It was," he agreed, "I don't wanna think about stuff like that."

"Can't you stay with me for a while? I'm bored."

His face darkened, "I'm not allowed to talk to you."

"You're already talking to me. And who decided that Patricia was in charge now? I thought you were?"

"I... she thinks it's best that she takes a lot of the responsibilities from me. I agree with her, I'm weak" he looked dejected and I felt a little sorry for him.

"You're not weak. Showing you care about something isn't weak, that makes you more of a person than her."

"I don't think so."

"It does, well I think so anyway."

He eyed me carefully, "what do you care? You just want to get away anyway."

"Where would I go? Back to my uncle?" I was speaking the truth, I didn't want to go back. At least here I might be safer.

"That can't happen, I won't allow it."

"See? You care about me. You're a stronger person because you care, deep down you know what's right and wrong, and that's why you acted the way you did yesterday," he immediately looked angry and I backtracked before he decided to leave, "that's a good quality to have, and that's why I like talking to you. Patricia doesn't care if I live or die... you do."

"You like talking to me?"

I nodded, not entirely lying. He had shown me that there was a person in that hard shell somewhere, and the more he talked, the more it made me think that there may be some good in him too.

"I'm... not supposed to be in here."

"Then why are you still here?"

He looked at the door, debating leaving, then faced me again, "okay, but you can't tell Patricia. She doesn't like me seeing you."

"I won't."
He came and sat next to me, neatening the bed sheet before he sat down, "why do you do that?"

"I, uh... have OCD."