Hunger Point | Phan

Hunger Point || Phanfiction

A/n: um, I wrote this because there needs to be more Phan plus one of my fanfictions is ending and the more the merrier. Oke bhye.

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"The spaces in between two minds and all the places they have been. I try to put my finger on it" - bloodstream

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Chapter One: So this is my life.

{ Dan }

I coughed; my head reeling, eyes watering, and stuck my finger down my throat to once again coax up the small amount of food my mom could get me to consume. I wished she'd quit trying, its not like she ever has before. But she's been getting calls from the school accusing her of negligence because everyone can see my ribs when we change clothes for gym class. And really, my mom's not neglecting me, she just finds alcohol and her string of men way more interesting than watching over me. And that's okay.

But getting calls from the school won't do, and she doesn't have enough of her brain to punish me, only to throw down a burger or something on the table and see that its gone by the time she returns home at three a.m. But she had a fight with Ryan, the latest, and so she stayed home to have a "nice family dinner" as she called it. So I forced myself to chew and swallow before retreating to the safe confines of my bedroom, where I turned up music to drown out my gags and coughs. She never suspected a thing, she always writes off my behavior as "typical teenage stuff". Whatever.

As soon as my stomach was empty, I dug around under my sink until my fingers grasped my toothbrush. I hurriedly brushed my teeth and then went into my room to fetch my razor. Pulling up my sleeve, I counted the lines on my wrist, each deeper than the next. This arm was the one that I kept count of how many days I hadn't eaten in a row. There were a total of sixteen lines. I added a seventeenth, the pain not even fazing me. It wasn't as deep nor as long as the ones on my left arm. "Dan?" My mom called as soon as I rejoined this blade with the others- I used them as bookmarks. "Yeah?" I questioned as she stuck her head in my room. "I'm going out." I just nodded to that. I wasn't surprised. "Oh, and honey?" She said, causing me to look up at her. "You got some ketchup from dinner on your sleeve." She commented before shutting my door.

If only she knew, it wasn't ketchup, but blood staining the sleeve from my fresh cut. But what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her, and she definitely wouldn't care, so no harm done.

Okay, so, this is my life. And, yes, thank you for noticing, it sucks. I don't even remember if this is how it always was. See, My dad left my mum years ago, abandoning her with a son she didn't want and no knowledge of how to thrive and survive on her own, never mind take care of another life source. So she did the only thing she knew how: whore her way through midlife, making just enough money to buy alcohol and keep herself fed. And keep me fed, I guess, though I try my best not to consume an ounce of anything. I can't believe I've made it seventeen days without suffering from malnutrition. But I've also had a lot of practice. Every time I faint from low blood pressure or dehydration, I'm always at home and my mom's always out so when I wake up, I force myself to eat a meal and keep it down before then going back to my usual ways the next day. It's a lonely life, with no friends or family to care about you, but it's mine and I've learned how to cope. I just don't know how much longer my coping skills will let me continue to function before I face the inevitable end and die. Hopefully they decide I'm done for soon because I'm honestly getting fed up with being a person. But the grass is always greener on the other side.

[ Phil ]

"I don't want to hear it anymore! I'm so fucking tired of fighting with you over this!" My father shouted, and I swear he's rattling the ceiling. "What are we even fighting over anymore?! Its useless! We're useless! Maybe I should just leave!" My mother shot back, making my head snap up from the dinner I had to finish. My dad said he wouldn't let me leave the table until I ate the food. He said he was tired of me being wasteful and hardly eating anything. Its not like me wasting food means anything to him, he has all the money in the world, he'll just purchase more. Plus, I'd never eat it. I never have, except when I have to so I don't suffer malnutrition and have to be sent to the hospital. Anything to keep my parents unaware. Anything.

"Mom, don't say that," I whimpered from my perch at the kitchen table, a few feet from my bickering parents. They fight all the time, its really nothing new, but my mom's never threatened to leave before. I didn't think she ever would, after all, she told me we're in this together. My dad's abusive to us both but when we get a chance to talk alone without him overhearing, she tries to act strong, like she can handle it and keep him away from me. She tries so hard. I can't lose her and be stuck with my materialistic father who only cares about his money. Not after all this time. "Shut up, Philip, no one asked for your feedback. This is between your mother and I, if you don't mind." My father said, shooting me a glare. At least I was off the hook with the food thing.

Scurrying away from the kitchen table, I rushed past my parents and through the living room and library before reaching the spiral staircase. I hate having such a large house. It sets this image about you and your family. An image I don't live up to. Only my two friends understand. Even if they don't know everything...they don't know the worst part of it all...

They know about my abusive dad and my abused mom and abused me. They know about my eating disorder, how could they not? They're practically always around me. But I've managed to keep one secret to myself, the biggest one of all. The jagged and deep scars littering my body; some old, some fresh, some scabbed, but all self-inflicted. Nobody knows about that. I don't want anyone to know. Plus, its not like anyone would care. So no harm done.

Okay, so, this is my life. And, yes, I am aware, it sucks. I don't even remember if this is how it always was. See, My dad got laid off a few years ago and decided to pursue a career of anesthesiology. He went back to school and ended up becoming a successful anaesthetist. Now he makes gobs of money and that and his job is all that matters, so whenever my mom and I get in the way, its either a blow to the face or a blow to the self-esteem. It's a lonely life, with a father who despises you and a mom who is just as fucked up as you are and friends who only know half of who you are, but it's mine and I've learned how to cope. I just don't know how much longer my coping skills will let me continue to function before I face the inevitable end and die. Hopefully they decide I'm done for soon because I'm honestly getting fed up with being a person. But the grass is always greener on the other side.

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Another A/n: So, yeah, I know it's depressing/triggering. But I did warn you. Oh and Dan and Phil acknowledge each other's existence in the next chapter but they don't meet yet. Just foreshadowing here. Okay bye.