One Life (Phan)

7 (Dan)

Everything about her seems filthy, except her eyes. Though, her eyes seems out of place. For someone of her complexion, their eyes should be brown or hazel. But hers are a bright, crisp green.

I begin to wonder if she watched the videos. Right now, with my hood pulled up, she probably wouldn't recogniz me. But if we engaged in small talk? What if she goes to tell her friends? What if Tumblr and Twitter is suddenly full of people trying to figure out why Dan is sleeping at a bus stop? What if Phil finds me, and I have no way to run off again?

Her thin lips purse suddenly.

I cough, realizing I'd been staring far too long. "Erm, Hucknall." I say finally, averting my eyes. Her dark eyebrows flicked upward in surprise.

"Far from London," she says, before looking straight ahead again. I suddenly realize she has a northern accent.

"And you?" I tried to sound audacious, daring. But she probably saw right through that.

"Same place," she said. "Why aren't you taking the Tube or something?"

Because I hadn't had a destination until now, I think. Instead, I shrug. "I don't like the Tube. The people there are weird."

The girl lets out a laugh. The sound is pleasant, like shining, bold, bright red gems of wonder tumbling from her mouth. "I'm Naki," she says, looking at me again.

"Dan," I'm surprised I'd even said my name, but it came out automatically before I could pull it back in. A rush of panic floods my system.

The girl smiles, the name unfamiliar to her. I almost relax, but I still distrust her.

I mean, I think I distrust her.

But she's so friendly.

The bus comes, and Naki boards it. The silver bullet makes thunderous sounds as I climb into it. The grumpy, fat man asks gruffly for my card. I hand him my Oyster card and he scans it, lifts his eyebrows in surprise, probably seeing the amount on it, and then hands it back to me. I smile awkwardly and sit before anyone can see me.

Naki is three rows behind me and across the rows. She pulled a book out of her old bag and shrunk against the window, out of sight.

Are you really going to do this? Leave Phil? Remember when his friend died in college? Won't that be the same thing? He'll just be losing another person. And he'll die, all because of you! You killed Phil. You left him. Even if he didn't commit suicide, do you really think he'll be the same? You've screwed him over, and yourself too. Phil is--

I accidentally tap my right hand against the window, and I nearly cry out. The pain throbs to the surface, sharp, exquisite.

But I notice something. In that moment that I had physical pain, Phil rushed out of my head. In one snap. In a blink. But now, as the pain is ebbing away, the awful thoughts are creeping back in.

What are you thinking Dan? Do you really want to cut? What would that accomplish?

It would make the pain go away.

No! No, it will just add to the mess.

It will make the pain go away.

Daniel James Howell--

I turned to look out the dirty, plastic window. The bus shifted and rumbled, the sound deafening. I tuned it out and watched countless objects become a blur with the movement; trees, cars, poles, people, grass, buildings, all a grey blur. I look away.

---

"Hey."

I struggle out of my sleep.

"It's the last stop, Dan."

I open my eyes and shoot up, mildly embarrassed. Naki's eyes poured over me.

"Yeah, yeah," I pull myself from the leather seating. I feel the bus drivers glare on the back of my neck as I walk off the bus, the metal steps making a clinking sound against my boots.

Naki is close behind me, probably feeling the driver's frustration as well. She nearly gets shut into the doors as the bus driver closed behind her. I think I hear the scuffing sound of her boot hitting the doors.

The bus speeds off.

I stare at Naki in the dark. She looks back, and sighs deeply. Her breath crystallizes in the air and spirals into the air. I shove my dry hands into my pockets, the cold of night chilling me through my bones. I touch the map with the tips of my fingers, and my heart jumps. IT? Remember IT? Remember Danny-boy? Oops, I used Danny-boy, didn't I? You don't like that! You made that very clear to Phil! Danny-boy! Remember IT?

"Do you... have a place to... er... stay?" Naki asks carefully.

I sigh, carefully considering my answer. Just say yes. Say yes... leave her. You don't need her. You don't--

"N... n-no," I answer hesitantly, and bite my tongue so hard I taste blood. Her face seems to light up.

"I know a place," She says, smiling. I try to return the gesture, but a certain sorrow has grabbed my lungs, and I find it hard to breathe.

"O-okay..." I think that will be my last word of the night. A headache was starting to creep into the back of my brain, my right temple pounding. Probably from lack of food, or sleep. Maybe both.

Naki turns sharply and stalks down the streets. I rush after her, the wind sliding it's icy blade against my cheeks. I pull my hood up and locate her dark figure with strained eyes. She slows, barely, enough for me to see her. I start to wonder where we are in the first place.

"Naki?"

She turns, but doesn't stop.

"Where are we?"

She shrugs. "I don't remember the name," she says, he northern accent twisting her r's. "But I know how to get to a soup kitchen from here--"

I stop, mid-step. "A soup kitchen?"

Naki stops too. Even though it's dark, I can imagine her green eyes pleading. "No, it's not like that, I swear. I know the man there, and he's let me sleep in his attic a couple of times. It's nicer than downstairs--"

I want to shout at her, but I'm all out of energy. As soon as I feel the match of anger ignite itself, I dowse it down with exhaustion. I need a place to stay, even if it is as desperate as a soup kitchen.

---

The home

(soup kitchen)

is loud.