POISON://phan

Chapter 1

(Dan's P.O.V)

Home, isn't that where the heart is. Home sweet home. Right?
The definition of home is "the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family".
I wish I knew what that meant.

Family, i don't have family. My life isn't a 50's family comedy.
It's dark and depressing. No one cares about me or how i feel. It's always about him. He destroyed my childhood. He is the reason i'm here.

I stopped eating because of him, i stopped talking because of him, i stopped being a normal child because of him.

I wish he didn't exist. I wish mother never married him.
Wishing, it's all i do. I can wish all i want but nothing will happen. I can't change the past.

You see My step-father was an alcoholic. He's toxic and not worthy of having my mother. He would abuse me in front of her. If she moved she would get hit. He would throw punches and kick me until I bled. Sometimes if I'm lucky he would hit me with different objects in the room. No matter how many cuts and scars he puts on me, it's nothing compared to what he does in the basement.

He would throw me down there when my mother would leave for work. The first time he laid a finger on me, I was ten. He strapped me up on the "pool table" and would proceed to do the worst. He loved whips and would make sure he left a mark. I got used to it after 7 years. I used to scream and cry. I've used to wear a gage so no one could hear me cry out for help. The last time he strapped me up, he was with a female.

She was more than trailer park trash. She had a fake wig on and orange skin. At one point I'm sure she was white. She brought something even better than a wipe. She brought toys. It was the worst day of my life. That's when it happened.

"Daniel" Snapped Mrs.Jackson, My therapist.

I jumped out of my thoughts.

(Silence)

"you did it again" she said with disappointment.

I blinked.

"i asked you a question and you just stared at me" she replied, "are you one hundred percent sure you are ok."

I stared at her like I always do. I don't talk much just a few words here and there. I hate it but I can never think of words. Who would want to listen to me anyway? I'm pathetic. I dragged myself into this mess. It's my fault. How did I get here? Where did I go wrong to end up in a mental prison?

"I'm fine" I quietly replied.

"That enough for today, but I think sticking to group therapy will help" she said with a soft smile. Mrs. Jackson was sweet.
I like her. She was a Africa American who moved to Manchester when she was younger. She is probably the only person here that I like.

I left the room. I stumbled my way to my hideout. It was a small corner in the "library". It was a small place with very few books. I've read all of them. It's only books about being positive and being "happy". I couldn't stand them but I'm bored. We aren't allowed to have phones or anything like that. I can't wear bracelets or anything sharp. I can't do anything here. They are so worried that I will do something to my self.

I sat down and opened up a book. It's called "how can you master life" by an unknown author. I didn't know the author because the book cover was damage. I hate this book but it makes me feel like killing myself less.

I read until night fall. I felt my eyes get droopy and I could barely think. I tried to stand up but fell and hit the ground really hard.
I let out a yelp.
I tried again and actually made it to the door.
That's when everything became blurry. I started to feel my eyes give in to the darkness. I don't remember hitting the floor. I could see the nurses crowd around me but just tiny bit. I fell asleep or so I thought.

^_^

sorry this is short but it was also quick because the idea just came into my head. its 3:24 am so.. i hope you like it. this is going to be a short story but i'm going to put as much detail as i can. Also I will be putting little gif to lighten the mood because this is a douse.

peace out my beautiful colours
-lavender