Death Is Strange

ELEVEN

The previously gore-splattered steps had been cleaned, and other than the cluster of candles, signs, and other knickknacks people were leaving beside the stairs in honor of Denis, it was as if it had never happened.

Gerard was silent on the walk back to the dorms, and when Frank asked if he wanted to hang out, he shook his head. "I need to be alone. Think."

"Yeah. Okay." Frank didn't take it personally, but did feel a twinge of worry. Things didn't go well when Gerard was left to himself.

James grabbed Gerard by the shoulder and pulled him into a hug. "You've got this, Gee."

Gerard nodded. "Thanks, James." And with that, he walked off without looking back.

"Hey," James said suddenly. "Look who's here." He pointed across the lawn, to a kid leaning against the trunk of a tree, smoking. He wore all black – black sweat pants, black sweater, fingerless gloves, a beanie – and Frank could see he had a scruffy face and a lip ring.

"Bob!" Ray said.

Bob waved at them, but didn't move.

"Come on, you have to meet Bob, he's great," James said to Frank.

Frank joined Ray and James. Bob raised an eyebrow when Frank approached.

"Hey, I'm Frank. I've heard about you." Frank crossed his arms.

"Cool." Bob's gaze was fixated on his cigarette, and his cigarette alone.

"Bob is a man of few words, but much wisdom," Ray said. "He's also an amazing drummer."

Bob smiled thinly at the compliment, but still said nothing.

"How's life outside of school?" James asked. "I don't think I've seen you since you got kicked out, honestly. Which, kudos to you for doing that. I don't think I could pull that off without also getting arrested or some shit."

Bob looked like he was going to laugh, but he didn't. "Life sucks then you die. That's life."

James nodded. "True that. Someone committed suicide here earlier."

"Yeah. I was watching." Bob nodded.

Silence fell, and after a long moment, Ray cleared his throat. "Well, Bob, it was great to see you again, buddy." He patted Bob on the shoulder. "You have a good one."

Bob finally looked up at them. "You too," he said.

Gerard sat on the floor of his room, drawings scattered around him. None of them looked right. None of them were turning out the way he saw them in his head. And he was almost afraid of the image in his head – Denis's corpse, with a zombie tearing into his stomach and a vampire at his throat.

Why am I so fucking dark? What made me like this?

He closed his eyes for a moment, then struggled to his feet. His head was pounding, but he needed to wash his hands – they were smudged with ink and pencil shading.

He headed out into the hall, hoping desperately that Danny wasn't around. It was shit to live in fear the way he did, but knowing from Frank that Danny had a gun... Jesus. Nothing was right about any of this.

On the way back to his room, he could hear laughter from Frank and Ray's room. Hesitantly, he went and knocked on the door.

James opened the door. "Yo! It's Geesus. Come on in, my friend. We're just discussing our project for Photography."

Gerard nodded and came in, throwing himself down on Frank's bed. "What did you come up with?" he asked.

Frank shifted to put an arm around Gerard. "I want to use you as my model. And it needs to be soon."

"Why?" Gerard was flattered, but the idea of possibly ending up on the wall of an art gallery made him queasy.

"Because... well, the whole project is about portraying grief. And so... I want to get a really touching picture of you, where it kind of hints at the struggles that you go through, that I go through, too, you know?"

Gerard shrugged. "Sure."

Mikey let himself into the room and sat crosslegged on the floor by James.

James turned to him. "I heard about whatever the fuck happened to you. You good now?"

Mikey nodded. "Yeah. Just still freaked out about Denis."

James sighed. "Aren't we all? Jeez. It's fucking awful."

Mikey hesitated for a moment, then spoke. "It's just... we went through the same thing. And I'm okay, but he's... dead. I know that it's not the event itself that killed him, but it... influenced him and he ended up killing himself. It could have been me."

"That's what I said." Gerard laced his fingers with Frank's. "Not that I was drugged and had crazy shit done to me, but... just... yeah." His voice trailed off, his eyes distant.

"What bothers me the most is how many people I've heard talking about Denis like they knew him, like he was their dear friend. And like, ninety percent of these losers never even looked him in the eye. Like, what the fuck?" Mikey exhaled slowly. "Denis struggled a lot with depression, and anxiety, and the fact that he got ignored a lot. Ben was pretty much his only friend, and Danny made his life a living hell. I think that what happened on Saturday was the last straw, and the thing that finally pushed him over the edge."

The room fell silent, but in Gerard's head, one voice shouted over and over: IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU.