"Name something that you've done with a boy." Harry demanded with an evident smirk on his face, sending chills down my spine.
For the pastors son, he's nothing like I expected.
"N-nothing. It's a sin." I argued, frowning my eyebrows and fiddling wi...
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Chapter Thirty Three _________________
Harry
My phone has been glued to my hand for the past week in a half, impatiently waiting for Danielle's name to pop up on the screen. After our last call, I didn't hear from her. It's like she went missing or something because I haven't even seen her at the church either.
I don't attend service that often because I struggle to sit through it without the thought of my mother and the horrid things that took place behind closed doors, but I had to join last Sunday in hopes that I'd find her and get some answers on why I haven't heard from her.
This situation wasn't the easiest for me. I looked forward to talking to Danielle or seeing her almost every single day. My eyes would gaze across the room until they landed on the empty spot where the Schneider's normally sat.
My mind imagined Danielle sitting there with a shy smile on her face, trying her best to conceal her giggles when I mouthed prohibited things to her.
Danielle has changed in various of ways in the month in a half span that I've known her. I always reflect back on the day when I first seen her in the hallway, walking slowly while dragging her fingertips across the white walls.
She was so pure, so oblivious and so innocent.
Don't get me wrong, she's still the same Danielle. But she's not the same clueless Danielle that had to learn things from either me, Janet or the internet.
I actually sit and wonder what all does she really know. Does her life only revolve around what's taught in the church and by her parents? Or should I say... her mother.
When my mother was alive, she didn't get along with Emma that well. Of course, my mother would be respectful to her when she seen her but when we'd go home she'd have a lot to say about that woman.
I didn't understand why for the longest until I actually began to pay attention. My mother wasn't the problem— it was Emma. Emma had this strange obsession with my mother, and not in a good way. My mum was looked at as the most amazing and uplifting person you could ever meet in your entire life.
She was beautiful, filled with light and was almost never upset. Regardless of what disagreements she might've had with my father, she never brought the negativity with her. My mother managed to conceal her feelings with a smile or just by reminding herself that marriages can be stressful from time to time.
I learned most of this information from Gemma. I would wonder why my parents argued because in my eyes, their relationship was perfect. But as I got older... it made sense.
When my mother was on her last breath, she spent her oxygen on me— telling me the insides and out of being with my father, which led to me not caring for him as much anymore. I seen odd signs from my father, but it never affected me until I knew the entire story and put the missing pieces of the puzzle together.
