1

18.4K 746 1.2K
                                    


2021 now, i logged into this account to experience the nostalgia. i want to apologize. when i was younger, i didn't understand trigger warnings, and i often called them stupid. as an adult, i now understand their significance, and how important they truly are. i doubt anyone reads this story these days, or anyone who i offended with my views on trigger warnings would. but i am deeply sorry for not hearing your voice, and being ignorant.

Faggot. A name I am quite used to hearing on a daily basis. I'm not the one being called it, but I'm always around when that name is being thrown at the young sophomore with jet black hair.

"Dan lets go to the mall and pick out a dress for the faggot to wear to homecoming!" My best friend, Shane, elbows me out of my dazed state.

"No, I don't want to waste my time on him, I'm going home." I see the boy wrap his arms around his legs and put his head down in his lap, this is how he takes most of the beatings, some days he'll attempt to cover his head, but most days it seems like he has just lost all hope. My eyes linger on his broken body, I can see the huge bruise that Cody gave him yesterday poking out as his tight jeans ride up at the ankles. For a moment my heart stings, but I quickly recover. "You guys should just give it a rest, don't you have better things to be doing other than tormenting this kid?" I roll my eyes and start walking away. I know they will still beat him, but I'm tired of not saying anything, and just standing back, doing nothing.

"You're such buzz kill Howell. Have fun making cupcakes with your mommy." Shane snickers, and I feel the urge to throw my Calculus text book at his face. I refrain from even looking back, but I do flip him the bird as I walk out the doors.

The fall breeze hits me like a ton of bricks and I can already feel the goosebumps over my body. I zip up my jacket and keep my head down, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone, for fear of having to carry out an actual conversation. I make it to my car, swiftly unlocking the door and sliding into the driver seat. As soon as I buckle up, I see Shane and the crew walking out of the school, laughing and pushing each other. I guess they didn't go too long with the boy today. Oddly I sighed in relief, knowing that the kid got off easy today. I started my car and backed out, only to pull right back into the parking space. "FUCK!" I yelled to no one in particular. I had forgotten my Forensics binder in my locker. Being the absolute nerd that I am, I locked my car and basically ran back to the building, praying that it was still unlocked. 30 seconds later I'm breathless and ripping the double doors open. I thanked my lucky stars that the janitor was running late today, and I jogged the rest of the way to my locker.

My locker finally opens after several attempts at the combination, and I grab my binder, slamming the door closed. I let out an audible sigh as I begin walking back out the doors, but I stop short when I see blood on the floor. More like, when I almost trip and die after slipping on the blood. My stomach twists because I know who's blood this is. I follow the blood droplets to the nearest bathroom. I can hear quiet sobs before I even open the bathroom door. I take a deep breath to prepare myself for what I'm about to do, and I walk into the bathroom. Upon hearing me enter, the boy stops crying, and I could hear him standing up. He must have been sitting on the floor I guess.

"Which stall are you in?" I ask, already knowing the answer, he's in the big stall. My voice sounds like a shout, and I cringe, I don't want him thinking that I'm here to hurt him.

"Go away." His voice is just above a whisper, and my heart breaks. I had never heard him talk before today. He sniffles and I hear him messing with the toilet paper.

"I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. I just want to talk." I try to sound as convincing as possible, and I smile to myself when I hear a click of the stall door. He doesn't come out, so I assume that means I have to go inside the stall. "Thank you." I say as I tentatively walk inside. he has a wad of toilet paper held up to his nose and I can see that his lip is busted. I guess he didn't really get off easily today. "How bad is it?" I try to look in his eyes, but he is avoiding me at all costs.

"I've been through worse." He whispers, sliding his body down the wall, and yet again bringing his knees to his chest.

"Here let me see." I kneel in front of him and take his hand away from his nose. My eyes widen at the sight of his swollen nose, definitely broken. "wow." I sigh out. Looking down at his bloodied shirt. "I'm sorry I never do anything.." This time it's me avoiding his eyes. I'm happy when he doesn't reply, and I stand up, offering him my hand. He takes it surprisingly, and I help him to his feet, catching him when he sways forward, unable to stand by himself. "Shit, are you okay?!" My voice is laced with worry, at least three octaves  higher than usual.

He shakes his head, and falls into me, nearly passed out. At this point I'm full on freaking out. What am I going to do? Do I call an ambulance or should I just take him to my house? My mom is a doctor.

To avoid the massive ambulance bill, I scoop the smaller boy into my arms and carry him as quickly as I can to my car. Thankfully the guys have left, so they don't question me.  I set him down gently into my passenger seat, and I struggle a bit with the seatbelt. I huff at the familiar popping sound as it locks in, and I more or less sprint to my side of the car. I don't bother with my own belt this time as I hurriedly pull out and head out of the school parking lot. I look over to the unconscious boy, and I notice that his nose is still bleeding, pretty heavily. At this moment I'm very happy that my father is a lawyer and bought me a fancy ass car with leather seats. The blood will be easy to clean off of leather, than if I had cloth seats.

The entire drive home I try to avoid bumps and potholes and everything  inbeween, not wanting to injure the boy anymore than he already is. I honk my horn multiple times when I pull into my driveway, and my mom and dad both come out, looking mad as hell.

I slam my door shut and run to the passenger side, carefully picking him up again, and carrying him up the steps.

"What the hell happened Daniel?!" My mom yells as I walk past her "Did you run him over? What's going on? "

"Mom, some guys had their way with him, and I don't know what wrong, other than his nose is broken and he's passed out." My mom nods and motions for me to bring him to the living room.

"Set him on the sofa, make sure his head  is down so the blood doesn't go back into his head."

"Do you know who did this son?" my dad questions as I step back and watch my mom frantically check his vitals.

"He didn't say. I found him when I went back in to get my binder."  I sigh  as my mom decides to call an ambulance anyways, insisting that he needed to go to the hospital. While she is on the phone, I go to sit next to the 'sleeping?' boy. I've known him for a year now, but I still don't know his name. I frown at his lifeless looking body, upset with myself that I let it get this far.

"I'm so sorry kid." I whisper as I brush his hair off of his face. "I really am."

Hey! this is my first attempt at a Phan story, please comment and vote it would mean a lot! (:

(i had to make phil younger, just go with it)

Black and BlueWhere stories live. Discover now