Death's Exception

Chapter Twenty-Four

They throw me up against a concrete wall, and I slide down as they shut the door behind me. The room is small, and bare. I pull my knees up to my chest, and listen to the booming voices coming from behind the door. They are yelling words I cannot process. The only thing I can process is the harshness of the cold around me. I shiver. My head aches with guilt, and confusion. I feel sanity slipping away from me in the midst of my fear. I feel Death laughing as he hovers over me, whispering ever so gently "Soon. I  will be there soon, my love." I swallow hard, my throat dry with thirst. 

The world around me is a puzzle, that I do not have the courage to assemble.

I stand, and pace the walls. I start to think about Hazel. How lovely she was. How much I would have loved to meet her. I imagine she has a husband, and three beautiful children. A happy marriage, and a happy life, despite the crappy past she came from. I imagine a world around her that I want for myself. A quaint little house, and a humble job that she was thankful to have. A husband that loves her, and looks remarkably like Titus. A healthy attitude about life, never seeing the worst in people. Never doubting, only believing. Only living to the fullest, for the sake of those around her. For her children, for her husband, for her friends, and for herself. I imagine a healthy relationship with her father, because her forgiveness was greater than her anger. She was everything I could never be, and I love her for that. I love her for that, and I wish I wasn't imagining her life. I wish I could have known these things to be a fact. But I let my imagination find pleasure in her unwritten past.

I rest my head against the wall, the coldness around me working to numb my limbs. I want Titus, I want him to comfort me and for him to wrap his arms around me. Whenever he touches me, all of the terror melts away, and it all seems worth it. Because one may tolerate all of the thorns for the sake of a rose. I trace the cut on the back of my hand that had seemed to just appear there. I know it must have happened when they threw me in the room. But I hadn't noticed it. I twist my hair around my finger over and over. I twirl around as I hear the door open. Standing there is a kind looking old man. He ushers me to come to him, and I walk up to him cautiously.

He is wearing a brown fedora, and a nice coat. He has a pure white goatee, and his eyebrows sprout from his face in long tufts of white hair. His face is laden with wrinkles that only add to his wise, kind look. He grabs my arm, and beckons for me to sit beside him on a wooden bench. I do, and he smiles weakly.

"I am Dr. Thorn. I have heard quite a bit about you, darling." My face hardens, and I clench my fists.

"Oh, yes. Terrifying, ugly, dangerous monster I am." Dr. Thorn laughs. His voice is shaky and ancient. It is deep, and rough with age.

"That is what I heard, yes. But never what I believed to be true." My heart breaks under the mercy of this man's voice. "I am a good friend of Molly Trout's. I trust her judgment. A friend of her's, is always a friend of mine." I stare down at my palms in fear of crying. Dr. Thorn grabs my hand, and inspects the cut on the back of it. "We should have this wrapped up." I pull my hand away from him.

"Why are you here?"

"I am just a kind old man here for your comfort." I raise my eyebrow, my face written with guilt that Dr. Thorn could read perfectly.

"They just let you in?" Dr. Thorn shakes his head, smiling.

"I am the Mayor," I let the information sink in, and I let my shoulders relax a bit more.

"Are you going to let me go?" His face falls, and his rough hand strokes his white goatee.

"You must put yourself in my shoes, dear girl. You did take this man's daughter, and you are a national-wide criminal. I do not believe you to be the monster you are painted out to be, but regardless of that, you do a very good job of helping the picture to develop." I look down, tears begininning to form in spite of me, "It is my duty to report you, and it is my wish to help you." I pull my knees up to my chest.

"I took her because Mr. Trout was abusing her, Dr. Thorn." He nods, sadly.

"Yes, I am aware of this. Unfortunately, the proof of this is not found yet. But, I assure you, Miss Aurora, that it is being handled."

"Please, call me Rory." Dr. Thorn tilts his head slightly.

"What an interesting nickname. I like Aurora much better. In Latin it means 'Dawn', and I think that is just the lovliest description of you." He cups my cheek in his hand, and smiles.

"Why?"

"Because I have faith that you will raise out of these trials shining brightly before the whole world," The door opens behind me, and I look over my shoulder to see Mr. Trout. His face is harsh, and confused.

"Did you question The Thing, Mr. Mayor?" Mr. Trout looks impatiently at me.

"Dr. Thorn, thank you." He stands, barely reaching Mr. Trout's shoulders in height. "Yes. You are to get her some food, and some water. And when Molly arrives, you are to let her go. Understood?" Mr. Trout looks at me, infuriated.

"You can't just let 'er go! She's a criminal, she is!" I squeeze my eyes shut, and try to shut out all of the harsh nicknames Mr. Trout has for me.

"She is less of a criminal than you, sir!" Mr. Trout turns from me, and looks at Dr. Thorn harshly.

"I am no criminal." Mr. Trout's voice raises with every syllable. Dr. Thorn remains calm, keeping eye contact with Mr. Trout the whole time.

"Understood?" Mr. Trout raises his arm to hit Dr. Thorn, but holds back. He cusses, and brings his arm to his side.

"Understood." I stare in awe of Dr. Thorn. He looks at me, and gives me one last kind smile before closing the door behind him.