My Dead Roses (M.I.P. 2)

Erased **Unfinished

Chapter Fifteen: Erased

"Please forgive me," Carter murmured, his eyes burning with love and regret.

I sighed, staring at him across the table. I had my arms folded on it and was resting my head on them. I couldn't help but be relaxed--the atmosphere of Millie's house was so welcoming and calm. "I'd rather know what you did first before I forgive you."

I'd never seen Carter cry, so it came as a great shock when he started flat-out bawling. I sprang from my chair and ran to wrap my arms around him. "I wish I could take everything back," he said.

"It couldn't have been that bad! I'm alive!"

"But you could have easily died!" he exclaimed.

"Hey," I whispered. "I'm alive, right here. You have me right here. I love you, 'kay? I love you, no matter what you did to me. Can you just tell me, please?"

Carter's eyes widened. "You love me?"

I made a face. "Of course I do! You know that!"

Shaking his head, he said, "No. Every time I tell you I love you, you change the subject, with this sarcastic, clever look smeared across your face."

I was stunned. Had I just natrually avoided the words after Jasper? "Carter...I'm so sorry."

He pulled me into his lap and shook his head. "Don't be. I'm the one who needs to be sorry." With a kiss on my forehead, he added, "I love you too."

"So, I love you, and you love me...doesn't that require a teeny-weeny bit of trust?" I pinched my fingers together and squinted my eyes to represent the small ammount of trust.

"I suppose," he sighed dramatically, then smiled. "What's your most clear memory of being a little kid?"

I considered it for a moment, then smiled. "Peter told me he loved me. It was dramatic at the time, because he was that jackass older brother that was forced to babysit me. I was thrilled."

"How old were you then?"

"Seven or eight."

"Do you remember being any younger?"

I shrugged, catching his eye. "Sure. My first memory is probably of pre-school. I had a friend named--" I cut myself off.

"What was the friend's name?" Carter promted.

"Collin," I whispered. "And no one else would play with me because I was weird..but Collin did."

"Who was Collin really?"

"Jasper," I murmured faintly. 

I knew I was right. How could I not have known? Looking back, he had the same voice, of course he looked different, but he was the same. It was just another body that Jasper had stolen. He was preparing for appearing to me eleven years later.

Carter quickly changed subjects, throwing me off course.

"Do you believe that reality can be altered?"

"Depends on whose reality." This answer required no hesitation or thought process. I'd considered it before. That morning so long ago when no one believed me about Zoe...I'd briefly wondered if God had changed the course of my reality to prove some sort of point--what point it would be, I'd never discover.

Swerving back to our previous topic, Carter wondered, "From those pre-school years, do you remember anyone of any significance other than Jasper? Peter, perhaps? Your mother, or your father?"

Come to think of it..."No."

"That's because you don't have a brother. Not biologically. You are an only child. The parents that disowned you in Alabama aren't your real parents."

I didn't understand, and felt free to tell him so. He wasn't surprised upon hearing this.

"Your real parents are Patricia and Ernest Henry. You grew up in Albany, with me and Millie. Anything you remember from age four to age ten isn't true."'

"What do you mean?" I badgered. 

His tears had subsided, but now they had returned. His face was filled with pain--I'd never seen him so anxious.