This is one of my submissions for Babies at the Border

Title: Open Door

Author: Alyscia

Beta: Monica03

Banner: Belizabetty

Rating: M

Summary: Her door has never been open. Will the green-eyed neighbors changer her ways.

Everything has its place and everything is in its place. My overly sterile, bland home is all I have.

I haven't left my home since I moved in seven years ago; at twenty-five years of age, I haven't any experience in life. I have finally gotten away from my father; he had me imprisoned. He never allowed me out of my bedroom. Food fed to me through a hole in the door and a tiny window to see the sun.

I'm unsure what led to CPS coming to our house and finding me, but I was and still am grateful. I was eighteen, there wasn't much they could do, but I would never have gotten out of that room if it wasn't for them.

They had hoped I would go take the bull by the horns and live life after being stuffed in a hole, learning through a computer monitor that my father controlled. But the fear he instilled in me all my life won't leave my brain.

I know math and I can read and write. It took almost two years to adjust myself to my new reality in my new home.

I had things delivered that I ordered. It all goes into a sealed compartment that pulls in and out of my apartment.

I make a good living writing my books, my most recent is a number one on the New York Times Best Sellers. I do videos online and autographs by mail. It's all I can do, considering I can't even open my door without a panic attack which will leave me on the floor for days.

I'm humming along to my music as I type away, trying to get a feel for my characters when I hear giggling.

Why is there giggling? I never hear giggling.

My body is shaking as I centimeter by centimeter turn towards the sound. Inside my compartment box is a little boy with bright green eyes and copper hair.

I scream.

His eyes widen, while I try to calm myself, but there is a little boy in my place. My sealed off and perfectly clean place.

His little chin shakes. "I'm sorry," he whimpers as his eyes water.

I amble, not allowing to have my back to him, but I can't move closer to him. Words are not coming out as I stare at the child that has invaded my sanctuary.

He climbs out looking around, his hands clasped together. "I'm Tony, my Daddy and I just moved across the hall. I saw this, and I thought it would be cool to get in and then it pulled me in here."

I nod, looking towards the door I can't open. Then I hear shouting.

"Tony?"

The boy moves towards the door, but I already know he cannot open it. His frightened eyes meet mine as I stay frozen to my spot by the couch.

The frantic man is at my door still yelling for the invaded.

"TONY!"

"Daddy, I am stuck in here!" The little guyyells back through my door.

"Dammit it, Tony, is anyone home? How the hell did you manage this?"

The little boy is now crying. "There is a lady home, but she hasn't moved."

Something inside me clicks and move quickly to the door, opening it up the first time in seven years.

The man on the other side is… is...

I need to shut this door. The boy quickly goes to his father before either of them say anything, I slam the door and reengage my locks.

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. My hand on my heart, trying to calm down from a pending panic attack.

I feel myself slide down the door as tears slide down my cheeks. How many germs got into my apartment? Oh God, my door was open. I need to call Jane.

Scrambling off the floor, I grab my phone and quickly call the one person who can help me.

"Bella, I didn't think we had anything scheduled today?" Jane's voice brings the calm that I desperately needed.

"There was a kid in my apartment; I had to open my door to let him out." I choke out between my wheezing and tears.

I hear her curse briefly then she calmly talks me through my breathing. "Deep breath in, and then out." After a few moments of deep breaths, she asks me, "How did it feel having the door open?"

I open my mouth and close it a couple of times as I think about her question. What did I feel? My heart slows down and my breathing evens out.

"I just needed to help the little boy. I didn't think about anything else." I confess to her.

She stays quiet for just a moment before asking me, "What about now? How does it feel now, knowing you had the door open?"

I take a deep breath; the door was open. "Like I need to clean," I answer her honestly as I stare at the invisible dust and germs that have taken place since I opened my door.

Her hum comes through the speaker, making me shift my feet trying not to clean. "I think it will be ok if you clean once. Just one time, Bella." Her last words come out firm.

I swallow hard, until two years ago, I obsessively cleaned everything three times. I knew what my father pounded in my brain was a lie, but it's ingrained in my brain. "I can do that."

"Call me if you need me for anything else, overwise I will talk to you tomorrow morning." She ends the call and I quickly grab my cleaning items and begin my ritual.

The next day starts off normally, I take my shower and start my washer, then do the dishes and wipe down all the surfaces. Next, I take my laptop out and check my email, see if there are any book orders or fan mail, then I finally get started on another chapter of my next book. All is perfect in my bubble, yesterday's fiasco all but forgotten.

But the truth is, not everything is back to normal. I have a neighbor now. I wonder what they are doing.

Shaking my head, I try to get my focus back on my current task.

Then I hear steps, and soon some low voices, piquing my curiosity. I pick up my laptop and venture over by my door sitting on the floor listening to the mumbling voices of the man and his child. Unable to help myself, I pull up the camera footage from outside my door.

Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth as I watch the handsome father and his son entering their apartment with smiles and the little boy is jumping up and down excitedly. What has the adorable boy so excited?

Days after, a new routine occurred in my home. I shower and start my washer, then do the dishes and wipe down all the surfaces. I then take my laptop out, going to my front door, sitting down to check my email, see if there are any book orders or fan mail, then I finally get started on another chapter of my next book, all the while at the top of my screen, I have the video feed from the hallway and my front door pulled up to watch Tony and his father come and go.

What I have learned about the little boy and his father is that the man adores his son and is always with him. Tony loves to color and draw. He has so much energy. He is always in the hallway with his scooter or playing with a jump rope. That is when they are home. They leave every day at seven am and arrive home at five-thirty.

I didn't tell Jane about the new routine; I know she wouldn't approve. I am sure that this falls under stalking. I think... I haven't really researched. But I continue, as the days turn into weeks, watching my neighbor in utter fascination.

I itch to interact with them so much but as I lean against my bolted door; I find no courage to do so. No matter how drawn I am to the little copper head boy and his father.

I know today when Jane calls, I need to talk to her about this new obsession of mine. I am positive there is going to an uncomfortable conversation.

I watch their morning ritual. Tony has his bag, and his father has his arms full of stuff and I watch something fall but they keep walking. Without thinking, I jump up to my speaker and quickly call out.

"Excuse me, sir."

I hear my voice echo in the hallway and from my video feed at my feet I can see him looking around trying to figure out where the voice was coming from.

"You dropped something."

He turns and looks down to see what I am talking about, sporting a confused look, as he picks up the papers.

I can see him saying something, but my cameras don't pick up sound. "I can't hear you unless you hit the speaker button by my door." I wince; I just invited him to speak into the speaker. I just all but admitted I could see him.

I watch the screen as he walks to my door and I hear the static and a warm velvety voice bounces off the walls.

"Thank you."

And that was the end of our interaction. My heart was pounding in my ears and my hands were shaking, but on my face, I'm wearing a big smile. I talked to him. I, Bella Swan, talked to the neighbor!

Several minutes pass and I am still standing at the door, giddy, when the sudden urge hits to see them in person. I want to talk to the velvet-voiced dad, face to face.

The thought throws me for a loop as my computer rings, signaling my FaceTime with Jane for our session today.

Her dark eyes are scanning my face as I chew on my cheek, looking at the door again for the third time, as she was talking to me.

"Bella, what has you so interested that you are ignoring me?" Jane asks.

I feel my eyes widening as I turn back to my computer. "I, um, talked to my neighbor today."

Her brows disappear into her hairline. "I will need a little more than that."

I began from the beginning of my theoretical stalking to this morning's contact. I even confess to her how I wanted to open the door and talk to the father.

Her face gives away the shock from my story. "Um," she clears her throat. "How do you feel about the idea of opening the door?"

"I…" I look to the door again. "I hate the feeling I am getting. I hate that I think about the germs that will swirl in my home if I open the door. But… I want to see them so much. I want to hear their laugh. I want to know what they are laughing about."

I can hear my longing for everything I was talking about.

Jane gives me a small smile. "Let's talk about how we can get you there."

I shake my head, feeling the burn in my eyes. "It won't work we have been trying for seven years, Jane."

"Maybe you just didn't have the right motivation."

We make a plan that includes steps and a new routine to include those steps.

Step one: Talk to him every day, either saying 'good morning,' 'have a nice day,' or when they get home wishing them a 'good evening.'

I wait by my door watching the screen like a hawk, waiting for them to step out so I can begin step one. I hope to start step one, what if he doesn't want to talk to me… oh God, what if he thinks I am some kind of freak?

The excitement of my first step is slowly making its way into a panic attack. How can I do this?

My answer comes in the form of Tony opening their door and his bright smile has me yearning. I quickly push the intercom button as his dad exits the door.

"Good morning." I squeak into the speaker.

Keeping my eyes on the screen, the man smiles walking over and pushes the button "Good morning."

"I'm Bella, and if it's ok, I want to wish you a good morning and to have a good day to you and Tony daily."

He looks to Tony who is bouncing up and down it looks like he is asking his son something before I hear him speak.

"We would love that, and my name is Edward."

Edward, his name fits him so well. And that is step one.

For two weeks my routine is different. I shower, start laundry and dishes, but I wait to clean till I have had my morning with the boys.

Some days Tony beats me to the greeting, others Edward takes the lead. And every day they leave me wanting more. I want more than a morning greeting; I want to have a conversation. What does Edward do? How is Tony doing in school? Does he take part in sports? What are their favorite foods? How was their day?

As week three begins, Jane has told me to start step two.

Step two: Have the conversation I want so desperately.

I want to question how this will help me get the door open. But the need to know Edward and Tony more overrides the need to question her methods.

I decide that I should wait till they get home to pick up a conversation; I know they are in a time crunch in the mornings.

Today when they get home I will ask how the day was. I find myself switching from looking at contracts and proposals to working on my final chapter. I keep hoping to keep my mind occupied with anything other than the time and my camera feed.

After about an hour, I answer fan mail and requests that usually make time move faster.

Reading through all my fan stuff makes my day, my assistant only sends the good stuff over. Or I assume since I never seem to receive anything hateful.

And just as I thought, from the corner of my eye, I see movement in the feed. They're home.

My brain doesn't think as I get to my feet with my tablet in hand and run to the door, my finger almost slipping as I hit the button. "Hey, guys!"

Tony's smile is blinding on my screen as he runs over to the intercom and answers me.

"Hi, Bella."

My face hurts from the smile that takes over. "How was your day today?"

I listen to Tony babble about his day, playing with his friends, and the pictures he got to draw during art. And my heart is just beating with happiness.

"That is so cool! You will have to show me those pictures sometimes. How about you, Edward, did you have a good day?" I couldn't help but ask him. I watch a smirk appear on his face as he waits for Tony to move.

"I had a good day, how was yours, Bella."

The way my name rolls off his tongue gives me tingles in places I didn't know was possible. "It wasn't as productive as I wanted to be, but it was good and even better now. Thank you for asking, Edward."

"You're welcome, Bella."

Biting my lip, I prepare for the nerve-wracking part of the conversation that Jane and I rehearsed over and over. "Um, Edward, would you be ok with possibility exchanging numbers so we could talk more often? Possibly getting to know each other?"

I know he heard the terror in my voice as I finished the question. My vision darkens as I try to rein in the panic attack that is slowly happening as I wait for him to answer me. Oh God, he's going to run away, call the cops, think I am some kind of freak. And I am. I mean I have been trapped in my home for seven years and before that… my entire life. My entire life I have been trapped in places. My God, how pathetic am I?

"Bella, can you hear me? I said that would be great. Are you ok? Bella?" His voice slowly raises towards the end.

I quickly push the button. "Yes, sorry. Um, I will write my number down and slide it under the door; give me a second."

With shaking hands, I manage to write my number and slide it under the door to him. My phone quickly dings, I grab it seeing his text.

It's Edward ;)

I let out a shaky breath as I type back, Thank you.

*OD*

In the span of a couple of months, I have again started a new routine. I shower, send a text to Edward saying good morning to him and Tony, then I start laundry and dishes. I wait by the door watching them leave, occasionally we will exchange pleasantries over the intercom but with the exchange of phone numbers we mainly text and call.

I enjoy the calls after Tony goes to bed. We talk about his family. He has two siblings, a brother and sister, both are married. His brother has one kid, a little girl just shy of being two years old.

His father is a surgeon, the head surgeon, Edward tells me. His mom is an interior decorator. When I don't have him talking about his family, I learn more about him.

He recently moved back to Seattle after living in New York for the last eight years. He went there for his degree and worked as an architect. When he moved back, he went to work with his older brother at his construction company.

We don't talk about Tony's mom; we don't talk about my childhood or family. I am sure he wants to, but I sidestep those questions.

My phone dings; I quickly grab it reading the text.

How about we video chat tonight?

Video chat? Oh man. I chew the inside of my lip thinking of all the different scenarios that could go wrong. But the pure desire to talk to him face to face, even if it's through a tablet, is overwhelming. I wonder if his eyes are just as green as I remember.

OK, 830?

Yes, see you then ;P

I giggle and hurry to the bathroom to freshen myself up. I brush my hair and I look towards my very little makeup collection wondering if I should apply some. No, it's just a simple FaceTime conversation. I mean, it's not like he would find me attractive.

Looking at my features I see my almond-shaped eyes with my brown irises that have specks of gold. My chocolate-looking hair, in small waves, framing my oval face. I would suppose with my clear complexion that I am worth looking at, but would the man I have been obsessed over find me worth looking at?

Do I want him to find me worth looking at? I can feel my heart stutter at the silly idea of something more happening between Edward and me. How would it even work? I am ninety-nine percent certain I will never leave this apartment, I can't even think about the day my door will open. How in the world would we have anything more than a friendly neighbor relationship?

What am I thinking? I shake my head and make my way back to the living room just in time to hear my tablet ring.

Here goes nothing.

I click the green button and the first thing I see is his forest green eyes.

My eyes finally move from his eyes to the rest of his face. I realize now how little my camera has truly captured this man. He has scruff along his sharp jaw and there is a small smirk playing on his full lips that are meant to be kissed for hours at a time.

Shoot, he is almost the way I picture the lead male character in my most recent book.

"Hey." His velvety voice breaks me out of my trance.

"Hi." I can feel the heat in my cheeks as my voice squeaks.

He chuckles. "How has your evening been?"

I fidget around. "It's been ok, I am at the third arch in my latest book. Which I am sure will make my editor happy."

"I didn't realize you were an author. Are you behind on your deadline?"

I shake my head. "No, she reads each chapter as I go, and I left her on a cliffhanger. She is dying to know what will happen."

"Is that standard for most editors, I thought they would want all of it once?"

"Most probably do, but I like the feedback as I go, making sure that I am doing ok."

"So an author, anything I may have read?"

I bite my lip, shrugging try to hide my embarrassment. I have no idea why I am feeling this. I should be proud, that is what Jane says, considering I have had three books as number one bestsellers, the rest have been in the top ten. I have a few producers trying to buy rights to one of my book series to turn into a movie series. I am, as they say, very successful.

"I don't know, that depends on what you enjoy reading." I shrug, trying not a big deal of it.

"Something tells me you are a bigger deal than you letting on."

If I didn't know any better, I would say his eyes got greener, slightly darker.

"I really wouldn't know. I just know what they tell me." I murmur, thinking this wasn't such a good idea.

"Can I have the title of one of your books?"

I shake my head. "I am sure you have something better to do than look up one of my books."

"I guess I will have to find them on my own."

I smirk at him. "I use a pen name because I didn't want my father to know anything about me." I feel a tightening in my chest. I can't believe that I let that slip.

Shoot.

I think there must have been a glitch with the camera his face seem to distort for a second; I almost missed it.

"Is he the reason, you… you know?"

Unable to stop myself, I tell him; I tell him the truth. "My mom died when I was young. So young that I don't remember her. All I remember is my room and that my door was always locked because my dad said that it was the only place safe for me. If I was to go anywhere else, the germs would kill me. If I left my room, I would get sick and die as my mother had."

I swallow hard trying to keep the anger and tears at bay. "My door never opened. He had slots where he would put my food and cleaning supplies in for me. When I got older, he added a place for me to learn on a computer, but it was very limited access. I only saw what he wanted me to see. I cleaned five times a day, had to take two showers a day and every night before bed he would tell me how many people died because of germs."

"You don't have to tell me any more, Bella." His warm voice washed over me and I knew, I knew I could trust him with this.

"It's ok unless you don't want to hear anymore." I bite my bottom lip unsure of how he is taking my story. I mean, we don't know each other well. We have had some conversations but all through texts and through a door. God, I bet he is trying to figure out how to hang up and distance himself.

"I want to know if you want to tell me."

His voice is sincere and a hint of something else I am not familiar with.

"I was eighteen when a social worker and some cops investigated his house and found me locked in my room. They asked if I wanted to leave. I said yes. But it didn't last long. I never left the hotel room and then they got me this apartment seven years ago and I have been here since."

My brain goes over the brief memories of the doctors checking me over and the blackout panic attacks that hit me as I tried to survive outside. My father's voice going over and over in my head about how I was going to die.

"Bella." His voice is just above a whisper, bringing me back to my apartment and to his green eyes.

My hand wipes the tears streaking my face. "I'm sorry. I still hear him sometimes."

I have never being hugged or had any form of affection and at this moment all I want is his arms around me telling me I will be ok.

In my mind's eye, I watch myself stomp to the door, unlock the bolts, and open the door with a force that it hits the wall. I march over to the green-eyed man that I have become infatuated with.

But the reality is I am sitting on my couch with tears on my cheeks looking into his eyes through the tablet screen.

"I watched my son go through withdrawals for days. I wasn't sure if he would survive. He was born too soon as it was. And for the next four years, I fought tooth and nail to get full custody."

He shakes his head. "Ok, enough with the heavy. You know Tony is writing his own book with pictures and all for you."

An involuntary smile graces my face as I listened to Edward tell me about Tony's new project named Tony and Bella's Adventures.

He has us going to the zoo, aquarium, and swimming in the ocean. Everything I want to do and more.

"I really would love to see it when he's done."

"Don't worry you'll be the first, Bella, all he does is talk about you."

I smile, loving that his little boy is just as captivated as I am.

"Tony and you are all I can think about anymore." I murmur, hoping he really didn't catch my confession.

"You're not the only one."

Our routine changed, we began using FaceTime several times a day. I got to be part of their morning routine, he would FaceTime during his lunch and let me see what he is working on. And then I would be part of dinner time and reading to Tony at night for bed. And then we would talk alone at night, just Edward and I.

Edward has begun talking with Jane, hoping he could understand more about my condition and learn how he can help me with the steps to get me where I want to be and that is going on the adventures Tony writes us doing.

Today is full of anxiety, I am unlocking my door for one minute. I am waiting for them to get home from work. Jane and he will both be on FaceTime with me as I make this next step.

My pocket starts dinging, signaling Edward's call. I quickly answer the phone.

"Are you ready?" He quickly greets me with his warm green eyes. In the background, I can see a bouncing Tony trying to get into the frame.

My body relaxes as I take them in. "As soon as Jane calls, then yeah I am ready."

Jane calls me through my tablet just as I say her name and the time is now. I am unlocking my door.

"You got this, baby." His voice is buzzing in my ears as I focus in on the locks of my door.

I can do this; Edward is on the other side making sure no one opens the door. I can't believe in such a short time he has become so much to me. Jane is saying something, but I can't focus as my hand twists the locks one at a time in quick succession.

I did it.

If I wanted to, I could turn the handle and finally see Edward and Tony. I could touch Edward's face and hug Tony.

"Bella, talk to us, how are you feeling?" Jane's concerned voice finally breaks through all the buzzing in my ears.

How do I feel? "I don't know?"

"Bella?" Edward's voice seems emotional.

He's just on the other side of my unlocked door.

As I picture what it would be like to open my door, it swings open; Edward is trying to grab at Tony but he has bounded in with a huge smile.

"Bella, look at my story I wrote about us?"

My breath is knocked out of me as I take in not only excited Tony but worry-stricken Edward, who is in limbo at the door.

But as I stand here seeing the door open, it doesn't scare me; it excites me. Edward and Tony are here with me. And it's the best feeling in the world.

Ten Years Later

"We got to get moving, sweetheart, if we want to get there on time." Edward hollers from the door.

I smile as I waddle down the steps watching Edward put on Oliver's shoes as Tony helps Christina put her jacket on.

I never thought I would be here in our country home with three kids and another on the way. Not that it was an easy road, it wasn't. The day Tony opened my door was a major breakthrough for me.

I could open the door and have dinner with them and I could give hugs to Tony before he went to school. But it was another year before I stepped out of the apartment.

And the first place I went to was across the hall to their place. It was two years after the door opened that Edward and Tony moved in with me and four years after the door opened, we got married. And during that time we did everything in Tony's book.

But after each adventure, it would take me two to three weeks for me to leave the apartment again. Jane said it was because I wasn't used to all the exposure of the world and my mind needed to reset.

Edward has been patient every step of the way, from each break down that followed every breakthrough. He was very endearing when we began an intimate relationship, keeping himself in check as I experimented and learned with him.

Our wedding night is when Oliver was conceived and two years later we had Christina. I went through bouts of anxiety when Oliver was little, my father's words were very present and made me want to go crazy with cleaning and trying to keep the germs at bay.

But with Jane and Edward, I managed. Not to say there aren't Clorox wipes and Purell bottles on every surface in the house to help keep me sane.

"You ready?" Edward grabs my hand helping me down the last steps.

"Yes, you think we'll keep a low profile this time?" I wonder out loud.

My fantasy adventure series is a blockbuster series and my name and books are everywhere. Everyone wants a picture with me.

He smiles. "Yes, Mom rented out the hall, so it's just family."

I nod. "Good."

My life is no longer sterile walls of a bland apartment, its colorful and a little messy. And I have never been happier about it.