Death's Exception

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I have memorized the walls around me almost as much as I have the walls of my room in the lab memorized. I am worried about Titus, and how he is treating himself. No doubt he blames himself for my getting caught. I am sure Carter is taking care of him, but he needs me in a way that Carter cannot provide. I sit back, frustrated at myself for thinking about this.

The door opens, and I want to hide as soon as I see Mr. Trout step in. He looks terrible. His face is sagging, and his eye lids look almost too heavy for him to be able to open. I stand, and he leans up against the wall. He is drunk.

"L-listen 'ere, you li'le-" He burps loudly, "I contacted the-" He looks at the ground and gets lost in his thoughts searching for the word he is looking for, "People who wan' you back, I did! Now give me my Molly!" I raise my eyebrow, as he barely holds himself up.

"You should go home and get some rest, Mr. Trout." He scoffs at me.

"Don't you dare tell me wha' to do, thing!" I roll my eyes, and sit down on my bench.

"Stay as long as you want. Entertainment would be appreciated." Mr. Trout's nostrils flare in anger. He slaps me, but I don't dare give him the pleasure of seeing how much it hurt. I clench my jaw, and stare him straight in the eye. Enough of this cowering girl. If this man actually thinks me a monster, then I shall be one. I stand, never breaking eye contact.

"You hit me again, sir, and you will suffer." I let my voice raise with every syllable, and the echo carries it further than I ever could. His eyes flash with a little fear, but it disappears quickly. He steps closer to me, and it takes all of my courage not to shrink away. But I stand strong with a false sense of confidence. I let a monsterous look take over my face. I feel myself to be the monster he thinks I am. I take all of his insults and for a second, I believe them and I nurture them. I agree with them. My eyes flicker between fury and confidence. I stand there, and breathe heavily. Letting the fear I saw in so many people's eyes reflect into mine.

He backs off, and stumbles out of the room.

I sit down. Not knowing how to process what just happened. Am I that person? Or was that just an act? I can't tell between the two anymore. I need TItus to tell me that I am not a monster, because the longer I am here, the more I am sure of it. The more it feels right to stand up to someone like that, and to make them fear me. I scratch the back of my hand, over and over until I feel blood under my finger nails. I put my shaky hands over my eyes and weep. I just want to know who I am.

I remember the ball in my pleasant dream. I remember dancing next to Titus, and feeling the warmth of his body against mine. I remember the smoothness of our conversation, and the light leaking in through the huge windows. I remember how beautiful I looked, and how confident I felt. More than anything, I want to be her. I want to be her, but I rejected the Demon. Some days I regret the decision I made to go with Titus rather than the Demon. But as much as I regret this, I know I would have regretted staying with that monster.

"Just a few questions, it will only be a minute!" The door slams shut behind a young man with a recording device. I shake my head.

"No, no. Go away." The man comes toward me, fearlessly. I start to scratch my hand again, furious at him intruding my walls.

"Only a few questions, miss. How does it feel being outcasted by everyone out there?"

"Stop."

"Do you regret running away?"

"Leave me alone."

"What about this girl you tore from her home? Where is she?" My head is burning, and aching. I bite my lip, and scratch my hand harder and harder.

"Please, just go."

"What are your thoughts on the death of Lilly Crilley?" I break. I lash out, and scratch his face.

"GO AWAY!" He stumbles backward, a new fear in his eyes. His face is bleeding, and his eye swollen where I scratched it. He trips out of the room. I bury my head in my arms, and start to weep. I hate myself for not being the girl in that dream. I hate myself for who I have become. And I hate myself for letting the Demon win. Because he is breaking me. Piece by piece, I feel Rory Destiel drifting away. I scream, not caring who hears me. Not caring that my throat begs me to stop. I let the anger rush out of me. I let my face burn with tears, and fear. The back of my hand is now severely bleeding, but it is completely numb.

"Aurora." I hear Dr. Thorn's voice, but I don't look up. I am too dirty to be loved. There is nothing about me that this man can fix. I am a monster, and it hurts. The more he reaches out to me, the more my fear grows. "Aurora!" I stop screaming. I breathe heavily, waiting for him to say something about how the good in me is there, and how I just can't see it myself. I wait for him to comfort me, and for it to fail. The words coming from him are just whispers into this great world of harsh truths.

"What?!" I yell. My voice breaks. I realize how harsh the words are that are coming from my mouth. I realize it, and I do not know how to take them back. This is the man that loves me, and wants me to be good so badly. And I want to prove him right so badly.

"Please." The plead scares me. It terrifies me. I feel my heart break under it, and I want to rebuild it, and I want to be brave, but I do not know how. I stop scratching my hand, and rocking. I stand, my eyes fixed on the ground. And I let him embrace me.

Because sometimes hugs are the only things that hold us together in this world of mad people.