Unrealistic Reality

Chapter 10

**Dan's POV**
I called him again. And again. And again. No response. It was about an hour later and I've called him every 5 minutes. I decided to go myself to check on him. I really didn't care if it put me in danger, I wanted to see him.

I got up and pulled on his sweater, and started to head down stairs. As I started to head out, I instantly felt dizzy and ran to the bathroom, emptying my stomach. Or I thought.

I tried to leave again but that only caused me to run back to the bathroom and continue to throw up. I haven't been this sick in awhile.

I tried about 6 more times and I gave up. I sat on my bathroom floor and sobbed into my arms. It took awhile for me to calm down, and when I did, I headed back to my room.

As soon as I sat on my bed, I saw the alpaca. I immediately started to cry again. More like loud sobbing into my pillow. I eventually calmed down enough till I was simply emotionally drained, and fell asleep.

~
*2 days laterr*
I texted Phil if he wanted a ride as i did every morning, and there was no response. So I headed to school, thinking he was already there. Everytime I had a break, I would make sure the first thing I did was call Phil. He didn't answer, or show up to school for that matter.

I repeated the routine for not only a few days, but a week until I couldn't handle myself. When school had ended, I drove myself to Phil's house. There were no cars in the driveway so I assumed no one was home.

I copied what Phil did and climbed up his tree to his window. It was thankfully unlocked. I pushed it open and slid inside his window, shutting it behind me.

I glanced around Phil's room, but he wasn't to be seen. I noticed his phone was on his dresser. I clicked his home button and saw that all the times I called him, and texted him. He hadn't been on his phone.

I quietly opened the door to his room and listened to make sure no one was here. Once I was sure there wasn't, I searched the house. I couldn't seem to find him anywhere. I walked to the last place in the house; the bathroom.

I twisted the handle and it was locked from the inside, revealing there was someone inside.

"Phil?" I knocked on the door. No response. I continued to pull at the handle and push my weight against the door. It wouldn't move.

At this point I didn't give a shit, and I was throwing my whole body at the door. After about 20 minutes of that. Once I finally got in, the sight was dreadful.

Phil was laying on the bathroom floor, covered in bruises and blood. He looked awfully skinny and he was pale, and looked lifeless. Tears filled my eyes.

"Phil!" I sobbed trying to shake him awake. I heard something small drop to the floor from Phil's hand, and I noticed it was a small blade. His arms were covered in deep cuts. He wasn't wearing a shirt either, which revealed his very thin and frail body.

His ribs were very visible, and there were cuts all down his stomach. When I looked closer, I noticed he had carved the word 'faggot' into his stomach. I broke out in tears.

I grabbed Phil's wrist and checked for his pulse. He must've just done it, cause the blood wasn't dry yet and I could feel a very faint heartbeat.

"Phil please stay with me," I almost screamed tears streaking down my face, and dripping onto his. He quietly moaned.

I didn't hesitate. He's still alive.

I picked him up and ran straight through the front door, not even closing it behind me. I ran as fast as I'd ever gone, toward the hospital. It was quite far, but I didn't give a shit. My ass ran.

I continued to cry as I ran but didn't slow my pace.

"Someone help please!" I cried. Everyone simply gave us weird looks.

To my fucking miracles, an uber pulled over and motioned us to get in.

"Hospital, please," I sobbed staring down at Phil's precious face. The uber began to move. I checked for Phil's pulse again. It was barely there.

The uber sped to the hospital.

"On the house," she said worried as we pulled up.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," I said through gasps of air.

I ran into the hospital and yelled for help. 3 doctors came to my aid and put Phil on a stretcher. I started to follow them but the nurse told me to stay in the waiting room. I didn't respond, as I watched them rush Phil down a long hallway and into another room.

5 hours. It's been 5 hours since I found Phil. I didn't leave the waiting room. I stayed the whole time. My mom texted me and asked where I was at, and I explained to her what happened.

The nurse came out looking sad.

"Dan," she started. I instantly jumped to my feet, and saw her worried expression.

"We don't think Phil's gunna make it."

The words rang in my ears. They didn't leave. I couldn't move. I fell to the floor and could do nothing but cry.