Death's Exception

Chapter Forty-Four

The house has taken on a solemn air. Not a word spoken besides the occasional small talk that proves to be terribly out of character for us all. I do not dare speak of Joshua's visit, simply because of the haunting facts given. I am not sure which I should be more weary of, the emotion behind his visit, or his memory that must have faded in ways that all memories do. His mind could have romanticized any bit of my past, and his emotion could be putting up a facade on what I was actually like. I have not made up my mind on what I do or do not believe. I continue to run the visit through my mind, everytime a new anger manifesting itself in my mind. Perhaps the fact that my father no longer took care of me after Millie left. Perhaps the fact that Dr. Finley knew and chose me before I died, and withheld information about my past from me. Perhaps the fact that I am much more ignorant about my past than I should be.

I cannot tell which is the most frustrating.

Titus hasn't helped. He apparently was jealous that I kissed Joshua, and he has been keeping his distance, only exchanging a few necessary words with me throughout the day. I have resulted to reading and drinking excessive amounts of black coffee. I am reading Pride and Prejudice, of which the Rulleys own a beautiful blue hardback cover edition. The spine of the book has its title in gold lettering, with beautiful little embellishments. I sigh as I sniff in the smell that the decrepit pages permeate, mixed in with the scent of the mug of coffee that sits at my elbow. I sit in a red plush chair, my bare feet propped up on a window pane, over looking the grove of pink dogwood trees, learning more about the schenanigans of Elizabeth Bennet. I can see why I loved the book as pre-death Rory. I flip through the pages diligently, trying and failing to drown out the anger and confusion of the President's story. I bite my lip, and slam the book shut, almost spilling my coffee. I wrap my thin fingers around the warm mug, and lean my head on the back of the frankly majestic chair, staring at the ceilings above me. I sigh deeply, a tear tracing the edge of my face. I almost don't notice as Carter comes and sits beside me, taking the book out of my hands.

"Shall I read aloud to you?" I turn my head to look him in the eye. He looks weary, as well as weak, and I feel bad for him. He has been very brave concerning the death of his mother, and I can't help but put my hand on his shoulder.

"How are you doing?" He bites his lip, and tilts his head toward the ceiling. His brow furrows as if he himself doesn't know the answer to this question. I notice that he is trying very hard not to cry. He shakes is head, and opens the book in the middle. He starts reading outloud. I either lose myself in the steadyness of his accented voice, or the stern glare he gives the book as he reads. His voice is full of character and depth as he reads. He morphs into the characters given. Even the women's personalities seem to mingle with his perfectly.

Titus walks in, snapping me out of my daze.

"What are you guys doing?" His voice is hoarse, his eyes glaring more than wondering.

"We were just reading, mate. Care to join? Nothing like a good book to make life a little better." I smile a bit to make him feel welcome, but his eyes don't lighten as they usually do. Aggravated at his stupidity, I stand, grabbing my mug of now cold coffee. Carter audibly sighs, and closes the book. "You children need to hash it out AT LEAST. I am getting tired of all of this idiocy under my roof. We will not have any immature adults in this household." He slams the door behind him.

"Titus, if you are acting like this because you were jealous of Joshua, then-" Titus gives me an unbelieving stare.

"You think I am jealous? Who do you think I am?" I throw my hands down in frustration.

"Then what on Earth is wrong with you, Titus Crilley?" He turns from me, and picks up a picture frame, staring at the picture that I can't make out.

"You didn't think I would find out? Why didn't you tell me?" I put my hand on the small of his back, and he turns around.

"Titus?"

"Please don't pretend to be ignorant on the subject, dear. I have had my fill of dishonesty." I blink. "How could you not tell me that Dr. Finley chose you specifically?" My face relaxes. I guess I should be angry that he assumes I knew and kept that information from him. But I simply feel grateful that it is not because of some stupid jealousy.

"Oh, Titus, baby. I didn't know that." He raises an eyebrow, reluctant to believe me.

"Do you know what that means, then? That he chose you?" I shake my head.

"It means that he did that to your mother with the premonition of keeping her locked up. It wasn't simply because she remembered and you didn't. It means that he probably has more people hand picked. It means that as soon as you die, he will have someone else lined up for the job." My mouth falls open, and tears rush to my eyes. I have been so wrapped up in the misery of my own life that I didn't even realize how it may affect those coming after my death. Titus studies my face, but I can do nothing but stare at my hands. I feel an overwhelming sense of responsibility dropped on my shoulders. I do not dare look at Titus, knowing what reaction he would have after I utter the words that I must say. The words that I am obligated to say, no longer for my benefit only.

I have to be the monster so that no one else will have to be.

"I am going to kill him, Titus."