Can i trust you? A phan fiction #wattys2016

Happy?

Dans p.o.v-

I didnt want to be a bully. I had no other choice, really. Its just like every other situation in nature; you're either the predator or the prey. And honestly, I didn't want to be either. I wish I was in a world where bullying did not exist. But sadly, I knew that could never happen seeing as though the human race is a despicable group of organisms that only care for themselves. And anyway, they make me be a bully. They force me into beating on poor Phil. Also, why is it always Phil getting picked on? We pick on no one else but Phil. We call him names. One of their favorites is ‘faggot’ which in my opinion, is a cringe worthy word. I absolutely hated that word. I mean, who are you to judge people on their sexuality? Not only do they call him faggot, they also tell him things like for him to go kill himself. And what's truly sad is that they truly mean it. From the bottom of their hearts, they feel as though Phil should die. For what reason, you may ask. I have absolutely NO idea whatsoever. I mean, I guess you could say that I mean it also seeing as though Im one of the people causing Phil this misery. But honestly, I don't want him to die. I believe that no one should kill themselves, no matter what the cause may be. Its just not right.

 

I dont know why I tormented Phil daily. Maybe I just wanted to be accepted, but that really isn't an excuse, huh? I cant say that I care about Phil, but I also cant say that I don't care about him either. If I didn't care, I wouldn't have said sorry. And if I actually were sorry, I wouldve helped him instead of running off like I was scared of being in his presence. All of these thoughts were so confusing. One minute, I was this big superhero who wanted to help Phil escape from the terror that we granted him. But then the next, I was too scared for my own life to even take the risk of standing up for him. Its like, Im not selfish, but I am selfish. Confusing, right? Welcome to my world… I know I shouldn't be so petty towards my life, it was great really. But there are some things happening that aren't really, mentally healthy for me. But compared to Phils school life, mine was like heaven. Maybe one day Ill be able to work up the guts to help him out of a situation in which he is in peril. All of these thoughts are distressing me greatly. I need to think for a bit.

Phils P.O.V-Blackness, thats all I could see. Scratch that, I couldn't even see that well. After minutes after minutes of allowing my head to adjust, I was finally able to become mobile. Not mobile enough to walk, but crawling was a close second. By now, I was crawling in the direction I assumed was the right way to my house. After the beating, I lost all sense of direction so, in all reality, I could be heading in the complete opposite direction of my house. Not to mention that I'm terrified of the dark. Oh the darkness, how I loathed it. I always considered the dark to be where all idle words hide. In my case, I've heard about every word you can think of thrown at me, so it terrified me to even consider the option that there are worse words that haven't been tossed at me. ‘Hopefully I'm close to home’ I thought solemnly. The thought of the sweet escape to my razor sent shivers down my spine. I couldnt wait.

By now, I've been crawling/limping for what seemed like 30 minutes. I was constantly on edge throughout the whole journey due to the fact that I was extremely fearing that I would get jumped. I couldn't deal with any more stress at all. If I did, i'm pretty sure I would implode on myself. But now that I think of it, that wouldn't be such a bad thing. That would be like killing two birds with one stone. First of all, the people who hated me most would get what they wanted: my death. Second, I would get what I want: to give up completely. I just wanted everything to be over. And when I say everything, I mean everything. I limped farther into the dark, descending street until I saw a familiar landmark- my street sign. I laughed giddily at myself.’ Killing two birds with one stone.’

 

I walked closer to my destination, getting more and more excited with each step I took. About a yard and then I'd arrive at my house! So, I started limping faster. About 57 seconds later, I was at my paint chipped door. I sighed heavily. God, I pray my parents arent home…. I open up the front door, questioning why it wasn't unlocked. But I wasn't concerned with that right now. I was home! “How cliche” I thought sarcastically. How beautifully ironic was it that this night, out of all nights, my parents would choose to leave the house. And you know what? I couldn't be more thankful. Thats one less beating to drive me over the edge.

 

I truged towards the bathroom. The bathroom was the home of my ‘special’ cabinet. I unlocked the cabinet with my special key that I always kept with me, no chance of anyone having the chance of unlocking it. I pulled out my newest, shiniest razor. They cut deeper. I was so zen that I would be relieved of pain soon. I smiled at the simple thought of me not being able to feel pain anymore. The thought of me not being able to feel anything anymore.

 

I pulled up my sleeve slowly, to savor the moment. When I pulled up my sleeve, I saw my usual sight: old cuts, newer, older; deeper, lighter; memorable, insignificant. But all of the cuts I saw on my arms, were my family. I loved them all because of how theyd replinish me and id still be able to make more later. Looking at my old cuts, I realized how much I wanted to make new ones. I delicatley put the razor over my skin and scraped it. That little scape was not nearly enough. My brain seemed to shriek, ‘Oh god, I need more!’ Well actually, if Im being completely honest, it wasnt just my brain screaming it. My whole body began to ache with the need to be scratched with this metal contraption that I held in my hand. I gave into my whole bodys request and let my emotions take over my actions. I didnt have any control of my actions. My body was being controlled by something else, it was almost frightning. But then again, this was the process that I went through almost every day when I proceeded with my daily regime.

 

One cut, two cuts, three cuts more. I kept going with this excruciating pain untill my whole arm was covered in my own blood, not letting any of my pale, almost white skin, show. What was once my flawless skin was now covered in cuts and blood. And damn, was it beautiful. I felt content with what had just happened. Felling content was a rare emotion in my life, and it was amazi.ng experience. I started cleaning up the sickenly bloody mess, putting the razor back in its special spot. While doing this, I got extremely lightheaded, I staggered a bit from the sudden change of pressure in my head. Was this it? Yes! Was I finally going to die!?! I finally felt happy for once in my life. My vision started to get out of focus. “Bye bitches!!” I thought victoriously. Then it happened. I passed out