Death's Exception

Chapter Thirty-Nine

A clear plastic cup sits beside me, almost overflowing with what I am sure is sink water. My wrist is raw from scratching it so much.

"Melody, would you tell me about your past?" I say slowly, in fear that it would be apparent how unfair I find it. How unfair that she should be the one imprisoned and mistreated, when I was more of a broken experiment with her. I can't imagine the torment and inadequacy she must have felt. I close my eyes, and breathe deeply.

"I was a poet. A good one, too. I found the beauty in things that most people would overlook, or perhaps even find repelling. I wrote often, mostly in the solitude of my little house in Arkansas. Arkansas, for me, was surrounded by prospective poems. I found them in the forrests, in the people, and the quaintness. I got married at the age of twenty and had a child at twenty-five. My husband did not approve of my poems, and he loathed Arkansas. Things that, turns out, I could not learn to live with. So we split up when I was thirty-six. Our child was ten. He won the parental rights, and it killed me." Her eyes stopped focusing on my face, and instead drift right past me, where I lose her to the haunting images of her past. "I got remarried to someone I still love to this day. He was wonderful, and loyal. Even when I wasn't. He dealt with the overwhelming guilt I had about so many bad choices I had made, and he ultimately made me a better person. I don't know where he is... Dr. Finley would never let me get in touch with him. I died ten years into our marriage. A drunk driver rammed into the side of my car. I was dead for four years, and he imprisoned me for two. And now we are here." The waiter waddles up to our table once again, and snatches our menus up. Melody snaps out of her past, and looks up at the waiter. "Cabbage stew, please." Through the spectacles on his nose, he looks at me expectantly.

"I will have the 'Classic With a Twist' burger." I mutter. He nods, and gives me a toothy smile.

"Excellent choice."

"I would like the 'Shrimpy Delight', thank you." Titus says, in a hushed tone. Surely trying to figure out why Melody has her memory and I don't. I am not interested in the science part of the conversation, though. I am just lost in the only question that comes to mind "why not her?". Once the waiter leaves, Titus pipes up.

"Are you aware what killed you in the crash? Any brain damage?" Melody winces.

"I think it was ruptured lungs." He sits back, and nods slowly. I glare at him. His eyes grow wide with ignorance. Oh how ignorant brilliant people can be.

"Tell me about your childhood." I blurt out, hungry for details. Hoping that I can live through her past.

"I was dumb. Terrible grades, horrible at most everything. My parents basically hated me. They would never admit it, because they were mormons, but they did. They felt like I was no good for anything, I guess. I thought so too, of course. Didn't know what I would turn out to be. I had two friends throughout childhood, two boys that never seemed remotely interested in me. Which I was okay with. Their names were Fred and Henry. I felt comfortable around them. I could tell them anything, and they really cared about me. Fred died when I was thirteen. It was probably one of the hardest things I have ever gone through. Sometimes I am selfish enough to wish this fate upon him just so I could see his face again. Henry and I dated through highschool, and we were basically convinced that we were going to get married. But, one summer, his family moved to France, and he never really put up the effort to keep in touch with me. It hurt. But that is the summer I started writing poetry. Delightful how much light can be born from darkness, huh? I went to University, and that is where I met my first husband. He was brilliant, and rich. I thought that I had actually scored a good man, I guess. I just thought it would make my parents proud to at least marry into accomplishment. But they never were, so I eventually cut them out of my life. No one should love someone who hates them in return. It gets very tiring."

The waiter comes to our table, and sits our food in front of us. I stare down at my burger, and am pleasantly surprised by how lovely it looks. I pick of the burger, struggling to fit a bite into my mouth. Melody stops talking to eat. Titus rests his hand on my knee, and moves his thumb back and forth on it as he eats. I look up at him, and he weakly smiles, his mind obviously heavy. It isn't the same smile as the dream I once had in which we were both dancing together in that magnificent room. I would give anything for that. To feel beautiful, and loved. It is all I want. Freedom seems to be a dwindling desire.

"How is it?" He motions towards my burger. I nod, covering my mouth in fear that something may fall out. I am sure my already puffy cheeks look unusually so. He smiles.

"The shrimp is pretty good, too. Cannot say that I was not surprised." He sticks a shrimp in my face, "Try it."

"No."

"You must!"

"I shall not, Titus." He puffs out his lip, and widens his eyes. I look away, but he just scoots closer to me. "Fine." I take the shrimp from his hand, and plop it into my mouth. Much like the time he had me try a beer, I try to hide the fact that I hate it.

"Where are we going?" I ask, after swallowing the vile thing.

"To Carter's house."

"Isn't his mom ill?" Titus nods, sadly.

"I want to see her before she-" He doesn't have to finish the sentence for it to make perfect sense. He clears his throat, "that, and we need to take Melody somewhere we can keep her comfortable." I inhale sharply. I had almost forgotten of our shared fate. Death. There are times that death feels like a nightmare, something that we could never experience.

And then other times, you feel like you can't escape death.