A Phanfiction - Hear The Silence

Chapter One - Music Is His Voice

Phil made his way downstairs, dressed and ready for another day at school. A little note was laid on the bench next to an apple. ‘Early shift today Phil, your dad should be home when you get home from the hell hole also known as school, love you Mum x’. The black haired boy couldn’t help but smile, his mum, his rock, his everything. It wasn’t as if Phil didn’t like his dad, it was just that Phil’s dad didn’t… understand him. Rob, Phil’s dad, didn’t really agree with Phil’s life decisions, but it’s done now. No going back and no regrets right? Checking the time quickly, Phil bit into his apple and walked into the living room, turning on his TV before he had to leave. He only got to watch 5 minutes of whatever was on TV before he quickly had to leave. Phil slipped on his shoes and was out of the house within an instance. School… Well damn. Phil didn’t hate school. Well maybe he did. It was full of bullys, loud obnoxious girls who had their skirts way too high and teachers who didn’t give a fuck about what was going on, they get their pay slip and their happy. Breathing deeply, Phil pushed open the doors and all eyes were on him as usual. Why was Phil the target? He was gay. That’s why. The faggot who apparently stares at the boys while getting changed. Never in a million years would Phil stoop that low. All the boys in that school are ugly, sweaty bulls. No joke. Phil wasn’t even ten steps into the school building when an insult was thrown his way. “You gonna say something today faggot?” Oh and another thing, Phil was mute.

A selective mute.

So yes, he could talk, he thinks, but he hadn’t talked since he was 10, since he came out. So he hadn’t talked once in 6 years, he hasn’t even made a sound. Not a laugh, not even a cough. Nobody in his family cared that he was gay, Phil probably cared the most, he’d tried all that gay curing stuff but honestly? It was a load of bull. You can’t treat gayness. No matter how hard you try, you’re stuck with it; you’re stuck with the homosexuality. And it sucks.

“Maybe we should force him to talk?” Another one of Phil’s tormenters shouted. With his eyes, Phil pleaded. Please no. Please not again. Phil scurried off while he could and quickly shoved everything into his locker, all but running to his next class. He opened the door to an empty class room, it was no surprise, he was always early. Running from bullies. Phil didn’t technically like running from them, he’d stand up to them if he could but how does a homosexual person who doesn’t even speak stand up to people as bad as some? Answer was, he doesn’t, he lets them use them as a human punching bag, he lets them call him every other name in the book. He can’t tell anybody, can’t cry for help, can’t even shout stop. Instead, he sits and lets that crap happen to him. Just as the bell rings for first period, Phil plugged in his headphones, fixed his hair so that the headphones weren’t visible and blocked out the world.

*

A waste of six hours. That’s what school was. Six hours of nothingness, bullies and moody teachers. Phil pushed open his front door and walked into the living room to see his father up to the eyes in papers. “Hey Phil,” Phil quickly rushed over to his dad and pulled him into a bone crushing hug. That was what he needed sometimes. Just a good hug. “Phil? You okay son?” Phil tugged away as if he had just been burned, nodded and ran up the stairs into his room, bag still slung over his shoulder. Phil sat crossed legged on his bed and pulled out a couple of different pieces of homework. Science, Maths and History. Not even caring what he was writing, Phil scribbled down what he thought were the right answers and shoved the books and papers off his bed as soon as his mum called him down. Stepping down the stairs, Phil’s mum was waiting for him. The boy smiled brightly. His mum was amazing. “Phil sweetie, I’ve invited my friend Liz over from work, you know her right?” A quick nod. “She asked if she could bring along her two sons, I said yes, is that okay? One’s only 14 and the other’s 17, a year older than you, the 14 year old is Adrian and he’s very, um, curious about you being mute. He might ask you a few questions but any you are uncomfortable with, squeeze my knee, I’ll tell him that you don’t want to answer okay? So you’ll need your whiteboard okay? And Daniel, he prefers just Dan, is obviously the 17 year old, he probably won’t ask questions, he’s not a very curious boy. But is that okay son?” Phil nodded and hugged his mother. “They’ll be here in five minutes, go get out of your school uniform,” Phil gave his mum one last tight squeeze before he rushed upstairs. Having already took off his tie, Phil unbuttoned his black shirt and tugged it over his head replacing it with a Muse t-shirt. He slipped into his skin-tight black jeans before going back downstairs only this time, the living room was full. Dan, Adrian, Liz, his mum and his dad were dotted about on the sofas. Phil held up one finger as if to say ‘hold on a sec’ then made his way back upstairs to retrieve his whiteboard and black whiteboard pen. Instantly, his eyes fell on a spot beside his mother and he sat down next to her as close as he could. “Okay so this is Phil, my sixteen year old son,” Phil scrawled something across the board.