Three Eleven Thirteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

It all made so much sense. Ellie, in fact, was protecting me from people. He knows he can leave the house but won't, because it was a rule I made.

Obey Ripley.

Follow Ripley.

Obey me. Follow me.

Ellie easily throws his chance at freedom out the window, because he'd rather follow me around all day. He'd rather do what I say, whenever I say it.

I began to think about him painting, and wondered if he only did that to please me as well.

Still, if I weren't around, would Ellie still try and attack others? I've told him before not to hurt anyone, but he still acts crazy around them.

Would he ever have attacked them in the first place?

For the rest of the night, Ellie and I didn't talk. Once the hurricane stopped, and the electricity powered back on, we went upstairs.

There was glass shattered all over the living room floor. One of the front windows were busted open. In my bedroom, there was another shattered window, and a lamp broken on the floor from the wind.

I couldn't help but feel nervous over the fact that I would eventually have to fix these windows, which means someone would have to come over and help me.

I don't know a damn thing about fixing up a house.

Ellie stepped over to the glassless window, and stuck his head out. He glanced around outside, and got distracted by a bird that was perched on a tree branch that was only a few feet away from the window.

I stood beside him, "You know." I said to him, hoping he was actually paying attention, "I am going to have to get these windows fixed."

Silence.

"That means I'm going to have to leave the house for a bit."

He suddenly turned to me, his interest leaving the bird, and suddenly I had his full attention, "You have to leave."

"Yes."

"Away."

"Yes."

He blinked at me, and I took it as an opportunity to leave the room. I walked back downstairs and moments later Ellie came following behind. I began picking up pieces of glass off the floor, and he copied my movements.

I watched him, and began to think about what he had said previously in the basement. The day Ellie and I had met, I remembered my father was so excited to show him to me. Not because he managed to create a living creature but because he wanted to prove to me that he wasn't the 'dreamer' all his ex-coworkers said he was. People thought he was insane for not giving up on the Three Eleven Thirteen project, and I was the only person who stood beside him.

When Ellie first opened his eyes, my father called me down, we both were ecstatic. Not knowing if Ellie would actually be able to communicate, or learn, my father still began listing all the things he wanted me to help Ellie with. Teach him, talk to him, read to him, basically treat him like a normal human being.

Not even weeks later, Ellie began to walk, and gain muscle, and I would spend a lot of my time down in the lab with him. I'd talk to him, though I was never sure if he understood what I was saying. I'd read to him, which is probably why he likes reading so much now.

It wasn't until the black in his veins began to show more and more visible each day that my father began limiting my interaction with Ellie.

And then, the day Ellie attacked me, my father refused me to even glance at the lab door, let alone go down there with him.

After that, my father was down in the lab more than he usually ever was. He and Ellie spent hours together, and I never once thought about what it was that they were doing until Ellie opened up about it.

My father was teaching him, not about normal life things like reading and writing, but about science, and lab work.

He created Ellie to be a partner, someone to take over the experiments if something were to ever happen to him. I always knew my father didn't want me to be a scientist, because he didn't want me to feel like I had to prove everyone wrong. My father got more bad comments than he did good.

Basically, everyone who knew my father thought he was a failure. He never wanted that life for me, and so Ellie was supposed to be the one to do it. To complete his life work when my father passed on.

For some reason, I want to help Ellie succeed in doing that, even if that means helping learn about science and stuff that even I don't understand.

I reached down for a piece of glass, but when I touched it, I pulled my hand back quickly with shock. Blood tricked down my palm from a large cut that the piece formed. I winced at all the blood, and stood up dropping all the pieces of glass from my other hand.

Ellie looked up at me, and noticed the cut on my hand, "You're hurt." He said and walked up to me, taking my hand into his.

"It's nothing." I said, and meant it. 

Not saying a word, he guided me to the kitchen, still holding my hand, practically dragging me along with him, he turned on the faucet and put my hand under the water.

I was amazed as I watched him grab bandages and a towel, as if he's done this a million times before. He dried my hand with the towel, and began wrapping the wound with a bandage. "How the hell do you know how to do this?" I asked him, and he simply shrugged.

No answer. Of course. Somehow I don't think even he understands how he knows all that he does.

After a moment of silence, I spoke up again. "Ellie?"

"Yes."

I bit my lip, "Did my father mention anything else to you, you know, about me?"

His eyes were fixed on the project in front of him, that he didn't bother to look me in the eye, "What do you mean?"

I sighed, "I don't know. Did he say anything about me, maybe a secret I don't know about?"

"I don't know of secrets."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Did he say anything about you, plans for your future? Something he wanted you to achieve."

"He said I wasn't ready." He said automatically, as if it were such a casual thing.

"What was it?"

He simply shrugged, "He died before he told me."

My heart sunk, and suddenly I understood my father had more plans that I had thought. Goals, visions for the future that he never shared with me.

"If you had to guess, what do you think he would have told you?" I know I was practically betting on a reply, but I didn't care at this point. I looked desperate for an answer, simply because I was.

I half expected Ellie to shrug like he normally does, and consume the atmosphere with silence, but instead he spoke up. "He would teach me things, many things about his work. He never told me why, but I assume he wanted me to help him."

"With what?"

"With you."