Hunger Point | Phan

Chapter Twenty-four: Daisy

     { Dan }

"Vitals! Meds! Come on, boys, the girls are finished! Let's go!" I rolled my eyes, rolling over in bed. My roommates had left and were lined up for breakfast already. They actually did what they were supposed to. I was just too tired to even think about doing it. "Newbie-- Daniel, you've been here before, you know the drill, come on," I heard before a nurse suddenly appeared in my doorway. She was tall, atleast my height, blonde, with an upturned nose that made her appear to be sneering permanently.  She was probably a bitch, especially considering how she called me "newbie" then contradicted herself with "you've been here before".

     "Yeah, I'm quite aware of what I should be doing," I said, propping my self up on my incredibly tiny, incredibly lumpy bed. "Doesn't mean I'm planning on doing it." I quipped, offering her a platonic smile. "Oh, you think you're a bad boy? We see those all the time. If us nurses pretend to be narrow-minded sex machines, they crack and their attitude deflates. Try me." Sneer snapped, smirking now, too. Gross.

"No, I don't think I'm a 'bad boy'. I can barely communicate to a stranger like yourself in a way that's at all comprehendable half the time without acquiring the urge to shoot myself. We're not all the same, all of us in here, you know? You, and everyone else, are stereotypical twats so maybe instead of labeling me and shoving me a box in order to more efficiently deal with me, think of the possibilities." Sneer's smirk melted with every word I said but I was somehow finding that my words made actual sense, so I kept going. "I mean, it's obvious judging by the stitches littering my body that I wasn't planning on staying on this earth another day, does that make me a 'bad boy'? Does staying in bed outside of this prison as well as in it because I don't have the energy to get up when I'm not at all trying to bring trouble upon myself make me  'bad boy'? Does not havinh a family and now not even my pretend one make me a 'bad boy'? Does getting left behind by the only person I love on the entire planet make me a 'bad boy'? Huh? Guess I'm badder than you thought so maybe you should piss off." I spat, venom in my voice, fuming, my heart pounding. Instead of feeling like I thought I would (sad, barren, empty) I just felt so goddamn hateful and hostile and angry. The feeling was yucky but atleast I was feeling anything at all. Even if Sneer put me on "line of sight" because she thought I may be a "danger to myself, other patients, or staff", it's better than the nurses not giving a shit, like the last time I was here.

  But being on line of sight meant I wasn't getting out of here anytime soon. And maybe it was easier that way.

     [ Phil ]

"Why take me? Is there any point to this?" I asked my father the next morning, certain my legs had lost all blood circulation due to being bound so tightly at the ankles not to mention the fact we were essentially frostbitten to the point where my fingertips were numb and blue. My dad had taken me to an abandoned lumber mill in Wales yesterday, revealing his latest hideout to me. It kind of hurt to look at him because my hate for him was so potent and I couldn't do anything about it. Atleast my hate coated me in a layer of energy, I was shaking I was so angry, to where I didn't feel anything else. Only feeling fury was alright with me.

     "I'm using you for ransom to get my charges dropped," He informed me, shooting me a toothy grin, my stomach churning. "And there's nothing you can do about it, my boy." He cackled and I felt my rage build up within my chest to the point I felt warmth. I was seething.  I felt like I could break out of my restraints and kill him with my bare hands. But, sadly, I couldn't and it was only my strong distaste for him that made me believe I could.

-   -   -

     I was going absolutely insane. We'd seriously been staring at eachother for what felt like hours, no exaggeration intended. And it made me sick to my empty stomach because I began to notice myself in him, look-wise. Mind-wise, we were nothing alike. I was that childish teenager who liked video games and to pretend I didn't have major issues and who laughed a lot despite being sad. He was a cruel mid-forties man, abolishing everything he had built for sex and drugs. I'd never be like him. Ever.

And that's when I began to worry. Would I be like him? Oh god, it was obvious I was dominant over Dan, would I hurt him? He seemed nervous yesterday but I wouldn't let him say no, I just went for it. What if I hurt him? What if I ended up using him? Was I capable of that? I swallowed hard, tears pricking my eyes. My dad noticed and smiled, crossing his arms, leaning against the wall opposite me, looking nice and comfy in his winter coat. I licked my lips, attempted to match his smile, then said, "I really kind of hate you a lot." My tone calm, face composed, I told him how much I disliked him despite the itching thoughts telling me only someone like my father could say these things. "I hate you with a passion I struggle to understand, you know? It's like an instinct, too. Like I was programmed to hate you. It's working. Dan probably hates me..." I muttered the last part, hate on my mind, clenching my teeth. He probably thinks I purposely left him yesterday.  I wish my dad didn't have my phone. "Aw, poor little baby. Why would he hate you? Did you rape him, too?"

     "Shut up! Shut up!" I shrieked, writhing in my restraints,  not caring that it cracked him up. "You're an awful person!" I screamed, banging the back of my head against the wall. My dad just chuckled low in his throat, his voice cruel when he said: "Seriously, though? Have you and Dan been there yet? Oh, I'm telling you, he's amazing! He did tell you he played along with me, right? Oh, that kid. I should've taken him instead. Could've had loads of fun."

I glared at him, so angry I was crying. "I hope they lock you up forever. I hope you rot in there." I spat, hating how it simply further amused him. "I hate you." I shouted at the cieling, enjoying the echo throughout the deserted building, beginning to hit my head against the wall in a steady rhythm,  trying to drown out his cruel cackles and snide taunts. I know what I have to do in order to fix things. This may be bad, but it'll be worse if I finally get away and Dan hates me.

     "Please let me go. I'll do anything." I pleaded, hating how desperate I sounded though feeling a miniscule fraction of hope sprout up inside me when he seemed to be contemplating it. "If I let you go...and leave you and your precious Daniel be, forever, you have to make sure he and your mother drops the charges..and you have to break up with him. Your happiness disgusts me."

I blinked, swallowing hard. "Deal."