Life After Death

Chapter 22

There was a lot of things I didn't know about Danny Stilinski. Like:

He lived with his father, who was really old school. Mr Stilinski was a boiler maker and was about fifty years old. He shared the same stature as his son - tall and rather scrawny. But, where Danny was sort of boyishly handsome, Mr Stilinski had this cruel look in his eye.

Danielle Stilinski transferred schools because the bullying had escalated to new heights. And the apartment building was too small for three people - there were only two handkerchief-sized bedrooms. Danielle now attended a boarding school in Lafayette, New Orleans, where her mother's aunt lived.

Danielle never visited her father. Ever.

I found out that Danny was attending Hope High School on a scholarship because his father couldn't afford to put him through school - no one in Hope really needed a boiler maker and Mr Stilinski learnt that the hard way.

It made sense now - why Danny never had his own stationary. Because he couldn't particularly afford it.

You can keep the protractor, Danny, I told him in my mind. Feeling a surge of guilt and heartache.

Danny lived in the "bad part" of town and I learnt that his aunt paid for the funeral; and that Mr Stilinski never attended it because his son was gay, and because he committed suicide - two sins for the price of one. It seemed as though Mr Stilinski disowned Danny for being who he truly was. And suddenly, the hatred I had towards Danny for sucking my boyfriend's cock was gone.

I forgive you for sucking his penis, I told him. I hope you enjoyed it.

The apartment complex the Stilinski's stayed at was rundown and smelt like tobacco and something almost mouldy. I detested it and as soon as I came, I wanted to head in the other direction and run. But I felt as though I should pay my respects. I needed to do something.

The flight of stairs would have been a nightmare if I was alive and wasn't as lithe and light on my feet.

I knew which apartment belonged to the Stilinski's by following Danielle all the way up.

Danielle looked afraid as she reached up to knock on the door. Her round cheeks were flushed, and her closely cropped hair was wild. But there was something about Danielle. Honestly, she wasn't particularly pretty - who am I kidding? She isn't pretty at all - but something about her made her seem pretty. It was just something that she exuded. And suddenly, I felt bad for not getting to know her like I would have liked to.

"C'mon, Dani, you can do this," she encouraged herself. "Do this for Danny." With that she rapped lightly on the door. Something crashed inside the apartment and both Danielle and I flinched.

We stood there for a good ten minutes before the door swung open and the scent of liquor and cigarette smoke assaulted my nose. Knowing that Danny had to live in this place, with this man, made my stomach turn.

Standing in the doorway, wearing a cruel, grim expression was a tall man with peppered hair. Standing up even straighter, he glared down at Danielle. "What are you doing here? Where's your aunt?" he bellowed in a gruff voice.

Danielle wavered but didn't back down. She squared her shoulders. Looking ready to receive any hit this man would give her. "I came to grab some of Danny's things. And Sheryl is at the motel. We're leaving tomorrow." Taking in a deep breath she passed him. I followed shortly behind.

The apartment was small - I was afraid that if I moved too much I'd knock something over; despite the fact that that was impossible in my case. As soon as you entered you were in the kitchen-living room ensemble. Beer bottles littered the interior and clothes were scattered on the floor. It stunk, too. I blinked back imaginary tears.