Death's Exception

Chapter Sixteen

My back is now suffering the pain in full. I lay in the back of a jeep on my stomach, wincing and trying not to move. With every rise and fall of my chest comes a sharp jab in my spine. The car bounces and shakes because of the rocky terrain it attacks. I stare out the window and watch the trees pass; snow weighing their branches down. I sigh, my throat dry with tears and shock. I see Titus look back at me through the review mirror, his eyes red. I don't know if it is with sleep deprivation, or too long held back tears. He looks apologetic. Guilty. Maybe for what he has put me through. Maybe for the months he labored away at CSI. Maybe because he couldn't save his sister. Or maybe it is because he is now taking me far away from my only chance at being safe.

"Titus, I trust you." I affirm. I affirm it for myself. I affirm it because I know it will comfort Titus. I affirm it mainly to will myself to continue to do so. He looks back at me, his green eyes big with thankfulness. He probably knows I am convincing myself more than I am him, but he doesn't care. Because it needed saying. Both of us needed to hear that sentence linger in the air.

"My parents will take us in. We can figure out what we will do from there." I nod slightly, and close my eyes. We have been driving for about fourty-five minutes. Fourty-five minutes of sitting silently, contemplating and comprehending what just happened. I am mostly afraid of how the Demon will achieve it. How he will turn the world against me. How can he so quickly turn his creation that he has made out to be lovely into something that is a monster and deserves to live the rest of its days out on the run? I wonder if he is doing it now. Warning the world of my existence.

"Titus, what if they don't?"

"If my parents don't take us in?!" He acts as if the thought is absurd. "I want to tell you a story. It is my story. Lilly's-" He closes his eyes and gulps. "Imagine two little kids. Raised in a small town, a quaint community, with the biggest brains and imaginations you have ever heard of. Two little kids raking through the dirt in their backyard to see what the earth consisted of. What holds it together? What makes this planet different than the ones suspended above us? What makes it special enough to be the one teeming with life, while all of the others are abandoned? Alone? We were in an orphanage, Rory. The only people we had were each other. We focused on the world around us to bring our mind away from the terrible life that surrounded us. Instead of playing with other kids, we calculated. By the age of twelve, I could tell you the entire periodic table and the significance in each one. At the age of nine, Lilly could look at a person and tell you their job, and how they were feeling that day. She was always emotional. Her emotions were determined by the people around her because she didn't know how to feel herself. She was sympathetic. Could tell me when our Foster parents wanted, or didn't want us there. She always got along with the people around her because she knew how to form to their personality. I was different. Always caught up in the science and logic of things. I didn't care how they felt. Instead I wanted to know why they felt. We weren't adopted until I was fourteen. She was twelve. Our parents were astonished by us. Lilly had gigantic mood swings. I would go days without eating. After many months of going to different therapists and doctors, our parents sat us down on the couch and asked us one question. One question that still makes me shudder. 'What can we do to help you?'. That question changed everything. Lilly said that she didn't know how to deal with her emotions, and that it would help her if she could have someone to talk to. I told them that I wanted to succeed. I wanted to prove myself. I gravitated towards my mom, Lilly to her dad. My mom got me into a school just for aspiring scientists. It brought me happiness. Dad would sit hours with Lilly and just talk. He would take her to go do things; like dye her hair purple, or pierce her nose, or put her hair up into those terrible dreads. Things that helped her express herself. There was always a drastic difference between Lilly and me. For Lilly it was her sympathy that brought her to the CSI. For me; it was my lack of." Titus slams on the breaks, parks the car, and gets out of the car. I sit up, ignoring the pain that makes me want to throw up, and watch him crouch in the snow beside the car. He cries. He sobs. I let him. I sit in the car watching him. There is nothing in the world I could say or do to comfort him right now.

After five minutes, Titus wipes his eyes and stands. His face hardens as he enters the car. "We are almost there." His voice is raw, and dense. His usually deep and smooth voice now cracks. We drive down a road, and we enter a small town. The buildings are small, and the roads are thin. I look at the heavily coated people walk down the streets with dark expressions. Two children sit in a swingset, letting their legs dangle out of their huge coats. They faces are red with the cold, and their hair stiff. Titus looks concerned.

"What is wrong with everyone?" I ask. He shakes his head.

"Something is wrong. Everyone is usually so happy." Finally, we drive into a drive way of a quaint looking house. It is lined with dark brown wood, and it has a bright red door. Flowers blossom from the window sills, despite the snow surrounding them. Smoke billows from the chimney, and the path leading to the door is lined with red bricks. It is lovely. Small, but absolutely beautiful. Titus opens the door timidly, and knocks the snow off of his boots before entering.

"Dad? It is okay, it is me Titus!" We enter, and see a little old man, huddled by the fire. He is covered in a small blanket, and sits in a rocking chair. He stares blankly in Titus' direction, his eyes brimming with tears of happiness.

"Oh, my child! Come to me, my son. Come!" Titus rushes to his side, and sits at his feet.

"I am here, daddy. I am home." Titus' hand touches the side of his father's cheek. I purse my lips when I realize that he is blind. The man is crying, and kissing Titus' hand.

"And has Lilly come?" He says, looking in my direction. Horrified, I realize that he has heard me and thinks me his daughter. Titus looks up at me, and back at his father.

"No, papa. Lilly has died. She was shot by a misfire at the base." I watch silently as they both mourn for Lilly, and then the old man perks up his head.

"Then who is here?" Titus wipes a tear from his cheek, and motions me to join him by his father's chair.

"Papa, this is Rory. She is my friend, and also a friend of Lilly's." The old man holds out his hands in my direction, and folds me in to an embrace. He then pulls my face close to his, and starts to trace it with his hands.

"What a lovely girl." He frowns and looks down at the fire. I sit by Titus, and he grabs my hand. I look up at him. His eyes stare into mine. "Tell me, girl. How old are you?" I struggle with the question.

"I am fifteen, sir." He nods slowly, and smiles a bit.

"What color is your lovely hair?"

"Black-" Titus butts in.

"Black like the raven's wings. It glints almost blue in the daylight." I stare at Titus.

"And her eyes, son?"

"Green. Like the forrest in the spring." Suddenly I hear a rattling scream rip through the house.

"TITUS! YOU MUST GET OUT HER OUT OF HERE!"