Death's Exception

Chapter Thirty-Five

It is calm.

It should not be calm.

The silence between Titus and me has grown throughout the whole building. Where is everybody? Titus shifts his weight, his head filling with the same doubts and discomforts as me. He is holding tightly to my hand, but I do not squeeze back. I see the door. At the end of this long hallway is a glass door that is secured with a keyboard where a doorknob should be. The glass is fogged, so we can only make out a few blobs of colors leaking in from the other side. My vision tunnels, and all I seem to focus on is the keyboard in front of me. The hallway narrows so that Titus has to bow his head the slightest bit, and the roof caves in around the top of the door.

We step up to the door, and I analyze the keyboard that sits in the place of a door knob. I brush my hand across it, dust springing into the air. I feel Titus staring at me, and the back of my throat starts to burn. Dr. Finley wants me to be here. He wants me to see whatever is behind this door, and it frustrates me that I may not even be clever enough to pick up on his trap. Titus rests his hand on my shoulder, maybe to let me know that he believes in me. But probably to let me know that it is okay if I don't. I step away from his hand, and bring my palms to my eyes. I close my eyes tightly and focus on the conversation Dr. Finley and I had before coming here. Somewhere. At some point. He must have given me something.

"Anything?" I sigh heavily. I find myself extremely annoyed at Titus right now. I shake my head, and bite my lip. He is still staring at me.

"Titus, I need you to leave me alone for two seconds." He swallows hard, and turns away from me. My head instantly feels clearer. I study the keyboard, and it looks exactly like one you would find on a laptop. With all of the symbols, letters, and different keys. I brush my hand over it again, letting my fingers dance over the keys. I notice that some of the keys look more worn down that others, especially the 'D' key. I press it, and search my head for anything that Dr. Finley may have said that was littered with 'D's. I remember the very last thing he said to me. How could I forget, honestly? It haunts me.

dragging you down with me

I notice that the 'G' is also worn down, and I let that be my solidification. I type in 'dragging you down'. The door makes a loud clicking sound, and it starts to slide open slowly. Titus looks at me flashing his wide, goofy, and perfect toothed grin. I smile a bit back, but it is cut short once I see what the door opened to.

What looks like an 11-year-old boy is huddled in a corner, his skin almost completely grey. His hair is curly and dark black. His eyes are pink, and his dark brown pupils are dialated. His naked body is covered in big ugly scars, and his mouth keeps opening and closing as if he is trying to speak, but he cannot. His skin is as thin as paper, so that you could count every bone in his body. His eyes are huge and wild with fear, and anger. 

Beside him is a woman around fifty years old. She is sitting calmly on a metal examining table. She has curly brown hair, and brown eyes with streaks of green. Her skin is pale, ashen. She is naked too, her arms drawn tightly around her chest. Her hair seems to be falling out, and she is scarily thin. She has a scar around the top of her head, where she must have had brain surgery. She is shivering uncontrollably.

This is where I would have ended up. It is a bare white room, with only an examining table and a chair. The four walls are only about six feet tall, so Titus is bent down to enter the room. The little boy starts to shake his head and point at us. The woman stares blankly at us, prepared to do whatever we may make her do. I step closer to the boy, and he throws himself at the wall in attempt to get further away from me. Titus grabs my arm, his hand bigger than my forearm. I look back at him with pleading eyes. Neither of us know what to do. They look in terrible condition.

"We are here to help you." I make my voice sound as sweet and smooth as possible. I have come to the conclusion that the boy is mute, because he keeps opening his mouth in vain response. I feel the back of my eyes start to burn with warning of tears. I take off my jacket and hold it out to the little boy. He looks terrified, his eyes flash over to the woman, and he pleads with her to save him. She does nothing but stare at me. He cowers, and buries his face in his knees. I step closer.

"Rory." I ignore him, and place my hand on the boy's bare shoulder. I feel his body tensing under my touch. His head snaps up and he looks at me, his eyes wildly darting around until his eyes meet mine. He lashes out at me, and scratches me across the face. I stumble backwards, and Titus catches me. The woman seems not surprised, and she averts her eyes from me for the first time. "Rory, let me try. He is deaf, and mute. So we cannot practice communication with him." I watch as Titus approaches the boy, but the boy springs up and attacks Titus. Titus is stunned, and trips. He ends up on the ground, the boy tearing at his face, and hair. The boy looks terrified, like he doesn't realize what is happening. Titus tries to gently pick the boy up off of him, but I know that Titus can't get away from him without hurting him.

All at once, I hear soldiers tearing through the hallway towards us, and the woman is shaking her head frantically as if she is starting to realize what is happening. I see a soldier hold up a gun, aiming at Titus' head. In a frantic attempt to get to the soldier, I leap towards him, and repposition his aim. The boy is not moving.