Insanity

Okay, so.

Teleporting stalkers and anger, right.

So you'd think something that defied my concept of reality would have had me telling every single person I could about it. Or maybe not, they'd probably think I was crazy, no??

Buuut, the thing is, I don't think I would blame them. It's possible I was very much crazy and it's possible I still am. Crazy comes in many flavors~, as far as I can tell.

Anyhow! As I said, it started with the anger. Now normally, I'm terribly meek around my parents. I wasn't meek in general, no, but around my parents... definitely! Refusing a request was a no-no and talking back was an even bigger no-no.

The first event to set it off was when I was asked by my father to help him shovel snow. A part of me wanted to scream at him for simply asking, but I restrained myself to a simple "I'd rather not." When asked why not, I said I didn't care. When told I had no choice in the matter, I turned on my father, look up into his eyes, and said two words I'd never said to him in my life: "Fuck you."

At first I think he was so surprised to hear me say it, that he sort of just... looked at me for a moment. Buuut then he started yelling! How dare I speak to my father like that!!!! and such and such. I yelled back, of course. Then mom joined in. Nothing was ever the same.

I suppose it is fitting, that this is how it all started. I always had this sort of anger for my parents that I bottled away. Perhaps that is one of the weapons my stalker had in his arsenal, bringing out the anger in me. Or, maybe my subconscious was waiting for the first excuse to bring it out... I don't know, that sounds kind of confusing!

You see, I never forgave my parents for what they did to Danny. I'd been carrying that around for a good six years, by then. Well, uh...

I had been only eleven at the time. Danny, my parents, and I were all just watching tv. We did this quite often, usually while eating dinner. That day was my father's birthday though, so we had already eaten at this fancy restaurant that I can't remember the name of. I remember it was nice, and our whole family had a good time. I can bet that because the afternoon went so well, Danny probably felt it was time to drop his announcement.

I remember him grabbing the remote to pause the tv and jumping up off couch to face the three of us. He gave me a quick smile before turning to mom and dad.

"Mom, dad, I have something really important to tell you."

Danny continued, telling them how much he loved them and stuff like that. I could tell that a part of it was him stalling, and he started getting pretty emotional. I've never seen Danny cry, but he was definitely on the verge of doing so then. He was able to keep it in check and eventually get around to what he had to say.

"I'm gay."

Pretty sure my parents saw that like they saw my "Fuck you", except worse.

Now, I was eleven, I didn't really have a huge understanding of what Danny had just said. I must admit, even at eleven, a few kids my age threw around the word in a derogatory manner. The internet had provided me with a basic idea of what being gay meant, but there was no way I could truly understand, not in the way Danny needed me too.

After he said this, my parents had these strange looks on their faces. My dad in particular looked like he had started to lift something really heavy. I almost giggled at him, at the time. I can only imagine what Danny thought they were about to say.

The first thing they asked, of course, was if he was sure about this. Danny said yes. They asked why he chose to be such a thing. Danny said he had no choice in the matter. This continued, the two parties getting increasingly upset. Eventually my father roared about how it was a sin and an offense to God and the usual things you hear. No offense to Carol or any other Christians, but while I went to a Catholic school, I don't think our family had ever been to church in our life.

The shouting match continued until Danny swore at them and retreated to his room. I sat in the living room, dumbfounded. Like, I had no idea what had even happened! My dad had stormed off, and my mom started fussing over me, telling me everything was going to be okay. Everything would be fine. But I just knew, and I think she did too, that it wasn't going to be fine.

It was like living in a war zone for the next week. Dad would occasionally yell through Danny's bedroom door, "Are you done with this nonsense yet?" Mom would refuse to make dinner and would instead just order takeout. Dad refused to give Danny any of it, especially if he refused to come out of his room. I occasionally sneaked my share up to him. I wanted him to know that I still loved him, at least.

Near the end of this horrid week, Danny pulled me into his room and hugged me. He whispered into my ear, "I'm so sorry for all of this."

I shook my head, though. I whispered back, "I don't care what you are, you're still Danny." And it was true. I may not have understood yet what was happening, but that was all I really needed to say.

He pulled away, a huge smile on his face. He thanked me and told me he was going to stay with his friend Shannon for a bit. He hoped mom and dad would come to their senses by the time he came back. They didn't, of course. They stopped him at the door, or well my mom did, and told him he was not welcome anymore. After some shouting, Danny was allowed to grab his things. He told them how disappointed he was in them before leaving, but my dad just had to say, "Well, we're disappointed in you as well."

I should have said something. I didn't want this to happen. I was so angry that it was happening, but I stayed silent. I never told my parents that I disapproved of what they did. Not for six years, at least. I never found out why my parents did what they did, and all I could assume is that they had some unfortunate encounters with gay people in the past.

Danny was over only one time after that, to grab the rest of his stuff. He told me goodbye, and said he would meet me after school to hang out.

We continued that every so often for a few weeks. Danny would buy me ice cream, ask how's school going, drive me (and sometimes walk me!) almost all the way home. He never went near the house, and never asked about mom and dad.

One time, he invited me over to Shannon's. I was unsure at first, because I knew my parents would be upset about it if they found out. They had already told me to stop meeting Danny after school, but I had ignored that. I eventually agreed and they let me stay for dinner after I phoned mom to tell her I was staying at Lydia's. Shannon and her parents were really nice, and it made me feel so much better to know Danny was staying with nice people.

Unfortunately, my family soon moved after that. I don't think it was because of Danny entirely, because they had expressed desire to get out of the city before all this happened, but it was hard not to look at it that way. We moved up north into Southern Ontario, and had been there ever since. Danny and I (thankfully!) were able to still talk through the internet and stuff, but you must admit, it just was not the same.

... Okay, soooo, that was really exhausting to write. I had this post titled "Insanity", but I've gotten way off topic from what I meant to talk about. I suppose Insanity still fits, right? I've written more than enough for today and I have watching duties to get to anyway. BB!

(Also, Danny, I'm sorry if you didn't want me talking about this, but it's just something I really needed to get off my chest. I haven't even told this to any of the people I'm with now, so... Sorry.)