The Promise

Chapter 1

*Phil's POV*

It was midnight, an hour most sane people would be fast asleep at; and yet sleeping was the furthest from my thoughts.  My mind raced with malevolent, scattered patterns of thought, and any shred of control over those thoughts was strewn to the other side of God knows where.. In life, thoughts passed me by like clouds on a summer day, with no recollection of their position, nor how they looked. For the short and pathetic life I had had up until this point, I couldn't help but consistently ponder the unloving and harsh nature of my parents, and why they found it so effortless to hurt me in ways I didn't think were possible, and why everyone at my school either despised me or judged me based on my looks. Everyone in my life who had at one point been important, had disowned me. It damaged my self-confidence and caused me to have trust issues, and they all knew it, every single one of them - nothing could make them care, to them - I might as well of offed myself long ago.

Occasionally, I liked to play out how I imagined my life would be if everyone didn't hate me, if I'd never let those two words slip out from my fragile, quivering lips that I wasn't like everyone else, and then things would of been so much easier.

People wouldn't throw things at me as I walked down the street, and people at my school wouldn't make everyday a living hell. Maybe even, my parents would love me a little bit more. Why in God's name did I have to be this way? The only thoughts that riddled my brain now the most were how worthless I was, and how much just being me was enough for everyone to hate me with a burning, raging passion.

In a matter of seconds, my thoughts swiftly diverted across the path of thinking about him again. The mysteriously brown eyed, beautifully black haired boy present in dreams and nightmares alike, and after so long - still being the one person on this earth I'd wanted to be with since the second I laid eyes on him. Daniel Howell.

I felt like I was kidding myself, convincing myself I'd ever be able to live a benevolent and decent enough life. Not only that, but it felt a long way away from being able to say that I didn't care about anyone else's words either. Here I was 2 years after meeting him, and in my second to last year, unable to be able to look in mirror, because what stared back at me was still in my own opinion; the insecure, and pathetic person I was, and always had been.

I had been incredibly isolated all my life, and the boy I had a crush on and never talked to, made me feel two things I'd never felt before - comfort and reassurance.

It was the single best mix of feelings I'd ever had the chance to feel. Usually a crush would make the best of us nervous and uncomfortable, as we try to impress the one we love or admire, grasping onto any chance we have, as we hope that our actions are enough to make them feel something. But something with him was just... Different, for lack of a better word.

In a split second decision, I picked up my headphones and my phone. Turning my playlist to shuffle and put my head down onto my pillow, his image burnt into my mind, and a small, dim smile on my face.

Most of the time, these thoughts were the only thing at night that could put my mind somewhat at ease, in most cases so that I could drift off to sleep at the least. Some nights, they were just enough to silence to voices in my head so I could have a peaceful night.

As my eyes became increasingly heavy, and my whole body relaxed, I began to drift off to sleep just as I'd hoped, with the music very softly playing.

Tomorrow was going to be tough, I thought.