Vibrant • Phan

•Phil•

•despondency•
de-spond-en-cy
a state of low spirits
cause by loss of hope
or courage

Warning- this chapter may be considered triggering to some readers.

Philip Lester sat against the white wall in the hospital of Manchester. Only two years ago his brother had been diagnosed with cancer at the young age of twelve. At the time Phil was ten but he had a great memory and could tell you the whole story of that day as if it happened yesterday.
Only if Phil was to tell the story it would be in monotone.

It was a crisp winters evening and the hospital was silent. Many patients had been discharged since Phil's brother had been checked in two years prior. Nurses smiled happily at one another, Christmas cheer in the air. Only Phil wasn't so cheery.

Phil's family had crowded up the small hospital room. Today would either be Martyn, Phil's brothers, last day alive or there would be many more to come.

Nobody knew for certain, not even the doctors and nurses. Martyn's body could react to the treatment well or it could completely shut down. It was a new treatment, used only on adults until now.

Many family members said their
"good lucks"
and
"I love you's" 
to Martyn knowing it could be his last time hearing it. Phil begrudgingly said his
"I love you's"
as well. Only he wasn't very willing to.

Phil was scared for his brother. He was scared of having no one to talk to about secret things. He was also scared he'd die.
Phil loved his brother and didn't want it to be his last day on Earth.

A short and plump doctor came in and talked to Phils mother and father about the cost. They agreed and it was time to start. His family was sent out to the waiting room.

A few hours had passed and no new information was sent to the Lester family. The short doctor came out the treatment room doors and with a sad face led Phil's family to Martyn's room.
As soon as Phil entered the room a thick cloud of despondency spread throughout the room. There was no hope that his brother could alive.

Martyn hadn't made it. His worst fears came true.

From that day forward his mother and father compared him to his deceased brother.

"I'm sure if Martyn was still alive he would've made an A on all of his tests," his mother would say.

"I'm sure if Martyn was alive he'd love baseball and wouldn't want to sit inside all day like you," his father would say.

By the time Phil reached the age of sixteen he couldn't handle it anymore. The constant things his parents said under their breath, the loneliness in his home. So he did the only thing he could.

Maybe, if he died just like Martyn, his mother and father would realise that he did his best. Maybe he'd get to see his brother again. Or maybe he would live and things would slowly crumble into a pit of despair.

He planned it for days. The time, where his parents would be, he had everything timed down to the second. It all started once he got home from school.

He stood in his white pristine tub, blades and pills in his right hand. First he swallowed fifteen pain pills. He waited until his whole body felt as if it was numb.

He span the sharp object in his fingers. Feeling how light it was but knowing how much damage it could do. He had done this many times. Sometimes cutting through his flesh, and other times he set the blade down. Nervous or unwilling to cause any damage.

Phil looked at both of his thighs, covered in angry lines he had made himself. Starting with his left thigh he cut horizontally twelve times. The age Martyn had died. A dark crimson colour found its way to the surface and dribbled down his thigh and to the bottom of the tub, staining it a deep red.

He turned to his right thigh cutting five deep gashes. The amount of years since his brother died.

He went back to his left thigh cutting five times and then going back to his right and cutting ten times. Five plus ten was fifth teen, the age Phil would hopefully die at.

He felt as if he was being drowned by the amount of blood around him. He felt little to no pain due to the pills he had taken before hand.

He closed his eyes gently hoping to never see the sun again.

Phil's mother walked through the door and clumsily threw down her bag along with her shoes. It felt as if something about her home was off.

"Philly!" She yelled through the house. She knew he hated that nick name and would always reply to it sarcastically.

"Phil, you okay?" She called once again. No answer, something was wrong.

She ran up the stairs quickly almost falling multiple times. She ran to his room flinging the door open. No one was in the room. She ran to the connected bathroom and tried the door. No use, it was locked.

She stood on her tips toes and grabbed the key at the top of the door.

She slipped the key in and flung open the door.

Slowly Phil's mother fell to the floor, her body shaking  with uneven cries and pleas.

Only a year had passed and many things had changed. Phil had lost many friends. Apparently attempting death immediately labeled you crazy or unfit to deserve many friends.

Luckily his close friends stayed with him. Never leaving his side until he was completely healed. He was happier now, only a quick year later.

His parents realized that mistake and began to become parents again. They forgot that not they lost their son those few years ago, but that Phil had lost his brother.
But sadness still remained.
He could never be as good as his brother was made out to be. Phil still hated himself, even a bit more now with the angry scars left behind. What had made it even worse, was the constant reminder he was the one that did it to himself.

Until a boy moved into an apartment in his neighbourhood. This boy was named Dan Howell.

He liked this boy. He liked his dark brown hair, that was naturally curled. He liked his dark eyes that seemed empty but lit up when seeing Phil but he could tell his smile was fake. It was obvious with the silence that lingered around him and the hesitation when people asked him questions about his life.

He decided to befriend the boy. Growing close with this younger boy named Dan. Slowly, even though Phil didn't realize it, he was falling in love with Dan.

Maybe, loving someone was all he needed to love himself.

•HELLO!
So two updates I two days.
That's pretty good considering it would Normally takes a week for me to write and edit. Also it's be very appreciated if you can show me any plot wholes or grammar mistakes. If you have any questions about the Book go ahead and ask! I'll try to answer as soon as possible.
xx
Kaleigh
p.s make sure to vote! It can help people to find my story. I mean, you don't have to but I'd appreciate it. <3