Life After Death: The Shocking True Story of a Innocent Man on Death Row

started sleeping together two days later. It took my mind off things and gave me something to do on autopilot. It was something to lose myself in, and we established a routine. Every day Jason and I would go hang around the apartments where she lived, or she would come to Lakeshore. Jason and I did a great deal of “hanging around” and must have appeared to be pretty shady characters.
    Perhaps Domini saved my life, just because I needed someone to be near me then. I didn’t want to be alone where I had to think. We had some fun moments together, but when I ask myself if there was ever a burning love for her in my heart I must be honest and say no. Domini is a good person, straightforward and loyal, and she doesn’t play games. She keeps things simple and never makes life complicated the way so many people love to do. Maybe I praise her so it doesn’t seem so harsh when I say I was never in love with her. She was and still is a friend of mine.
    One other thing of interest happened at this time. I heard a piece of information that wasn’t meant for my ears and committed the only act of violence I’ve ever been guilty of. Early one morning I stood talking to a couple that Deanna and I had been close to, Josh and Lisa. Lisa let slip that Deanna had performed sexual favors for another young man while still with me.
    If my wounds had started to develop scabs, they had suddenly been ripped off. This was a “whole ’nother story,” to quote Matt. Lisa immediately knew she had made a mistake, and if I weren’t so white she would have seen the blood drain from my face. I knew just where this young man would be, so I turned to go find him. I could feel fire in my blood and a gleam in my eye that let me know I was alive. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been dying inside until I felt that flame of life. I had no plan and no idea what I was going to do; I just let the current carry me.
    I approached him from behind and saw something I hadn’t planned on—Deanna was standing with him. This was new. She must have realized I knew by the look on my face. I was hurt and mad as hell, and it must have been obvious, because as I walked down the hall many people stopped and turned to watch. I still don’t think my course was unalterable, even at that point. What pushed me over the edge was seeing her glance nervously at him and say, “He’s behind you.” I felt a world of betrayal come crashing down on me. She didn’t say, “Damien’s behind you.” She said, “He’s behind you,” like it was something they had been expecting. I knew the whole story when I heard those words.
    “Hey!” I screamed at his back. The moment he turned around, I was on him. He was bigger than me, and I’d never been in a real fight in my life, but he wasn’t expecting the pure, raw fury that came from being hurt the way I had been. It happened so fast that all he could do was try to ward me off. He backed up, trying to escape what must have seemed like a cyclone, and tripped over his own feet and fell. I went down on top of him and about twenty people jumped in to pull us apart. As they pulled me away I desperately tried to hang on to him, grabbing at him, and left scratch marks across his face.
    Later there was a rumor that I had tried to pull his eye out, but it wasn’t true. I was just trying to hang on to him. This rumor spread and grew with time, darkening my reputation. Or as they say in prison, “casting a shade on my character.” I was suspended from school for three days over this incident.
    I regretted it almost as soon as it was over. It wasn’t the guy’s fault. I’ve wanted to apologize to him ever since, but haven’t seen him in many years. I truly am sorry, though, and I wish I could take it back.
    Ah, but talking about such things tends to depress me, and a man in my shoes can’t afford to become depressed. And we are talking, you and I. Just like old friends. Who else would I be telling my life story to? Let us now skip ahead to when things became more cheerful, however briefly.
    I had one of the greatest teachers to ever lend his skill to the realm of academic learning. His name was Steve Baca, and he taught physical science. What made him so interesting and effective was that he didn’t stick to a script or enforce rote memorization. He made you think. Sometimes he would hand us a video camera, assign a certain scientific principle to us, and then we had to invent and conduct our own experiment, while