shat·tered
adjective
broken into many pieces.
trigger warning: nearing the end there's a pretty big trigger, stay safe loves.
There are two types of broken people. One is the cracked kind of broken, who are torn down bit by bit, cracked over time until their remains are only that: bits.
Then, there are people that are shattered, who, like a window, are destroyed all at once down to shards and pieces you can't even see.
The difference between the two? One is easily fixed, and the other isn't.
Dan Howell is very close to shattering.
Its been a week since the day he showed Louise his powers. They haven't spoke once in that time.
He's tried multiple times to get to her, to apologize for scaring her and possibly beg to be forgiven, but she always runs when he heads anywhere near in her direction.
People have noticed, too. How one day they were inseparable best friends, then the next sworn enemies of the sorts. Dan's asked about it on a daily basis.
"Where's Louise?"
"Is she okay?"
"Are you two still friends?"
"Why aren't you two talking anymore?"
He always brushed them away, mumbling something like "I'm fine." or "we're fine."
They pretend to believe him.
He wasn't exactly sure if Louise had told anybody about what happened, about his powers. Nobody has swept him away to some kind of lab yet, so that's a good sign. Maybe she didn't tell anybody, or maybe she did, and they just didn't believe her. He wasn't sure he wanted to know, either.
"Time to pack up, kids. Have a wonderful day, see you all tomorrow!" The teacher chirped, and Dan grabbed his Sonic The Hedgehog bookbag. He'd gotten it last year after a kid teased him about his Pooh bear one, calling it childish.
He quickly made way out of the room, eyes open for any sign of Louise's blonde curls, but he couldn't see overhead all the taller kids trudging down the hall. Dan wished he was taller.
After about a minute of jumping around to look and getting rude comments from some fifth graders he'd bumped into, he decided to give up.
Dan was a little late going outside to wait to be picked up, but it was okay, because his mum wasn't there yet. He took his usual place on a bench, wondering if Dad was home or off trying to find a job. He'd been doing that a lot the past few days. Its been kinda nice with him not being there, but every time he came home, still jobless, he was always in a fouler mood. He couldn't hurt Dan since mum was constantly around now, but Dan knew that when the next chance opened up, it would be taken, and that it would surely be the worst yet.
After around ten minutes passing of Dan sitting and watching other kids hop into their own cars, he started to get worried. Mum was never this late, and the group of remaining kids waiting was getting thinner and thinner. Soon, he was the only one left, and he had a really bad feeling starting to settle in his stomach.
He was so busy thinking of all the awful things that could have happened, he didn't notice the monitor walking up to him and talking until she was snapping her fingers in his face impatiently.
"What?" Dan blinked, shamefully realizing she asked him a question. She sighed, annoyance visible. He shrunk into the bench guiltily.
"I said, do you know if you're mum or dad is supposed to be coming to get you or not?"
"My mum always comes and gets me."
He replied, worry returning and overtaking the shame immediately.
Dan shook his head to a few more of her questions, ones like "is she ever this late?" and "do you know a phone number to call?" and "do you remember her telling you to get on a bus today?"
After what felt like an extended game of fifty questions with the lady, she finally told him to follow her to the office to check some phone records.
Dan walked behind her, listening to her high heels clicking and his sneakers scuffing in the abandoned hall. Dan had never seen a school so empty, nor had he heard one this quiet. It gave off an eerie vibe, and he was once more reminded how wrong something was right now with him still being here and not on the way home.
They entered the main office, which held a handful of rushing teachers shuffling around and grabbing papers or typing on computer keyboards. The monitor gestured him to sit down in a waiting chair. He did.
Dan watched her disappear down a hall, returning a few minutes later with a very serious looking man. That must be the principal. Dan thought nervously, knowing how he ran the school and how only bad kids had to go see him.
He was wearing a tan suit, coloured faintly by a pale red tie. His face had a gentle look as he finished speaking with the lady and was heading over to Dan, though he was aware that soft look could harden if it needed to. His hair was completely gone, leaving a shiny bald head in place.
"Daniel?" He said quietly, smiling in a I'm your friend, even though I'm a teacher kind of way while looking down at him.
"Y-yeah?" He squeaked, brown eyes wide as they met with the swampy green colour of the principal's.
He kneeled down to face Dan properly, then spoke in a tone teachers usually used on kids they thought were illiterate or something. "I'm Mr. Jones, the principal. Do you know why your mother isn't here?"
Dan shook his head, worrying again.
"Okay. I'm going to try and call a few numbers I have filed under your name, then I'll get back to you. You can wait here, and there's books on the table over there you can read. Do you understand?"
Dan followed Mr. Jones's now raised pointer finger over to a circular table surrounded by some uncomfortable looking chairs, where books colourful books toppled over in stacks. He looked back to the man and nodded. He would've probably been annoyed at how the man talked at him like he was speaking to a toddler had he not been so scared and worried.
The principal stood up and disappeared back down the hall he came out of, only this time there was nobody going with him. The monitor had left, so had many other teachers that were in here before. The only people remaining in the main room was Dan, a lady at a computer, and a man on the phone.
He glanced over to the book table, wanting to pass time but not feeling able to concentrate on anything else than whatever was happening around him.
The man on the phone let out a hearty laugh, which startled Dan. Weren't teachers in the office supposed to be working? He wondered, turning to look at the man, whose his eyes were wide and was sitting on the edge of his seat as if what the person on the other line was saying was something so important that a single word couldn't be missed.
Dan sighed, wishing his mum would hurry here. He was starting to hate school more and more without having Louise to talk to, and staying in a place you hate for longer than you need to isn't fun at all.
The principal came back after ten minutes, and Dan noticed how the man on the phone put on a duller face and leaned back in his chair when he passed him.
Dan looked up expectantly, but Mr. Jones just shook his head. "I'm sorry, Daniel. All the phone numbers were cut off. I'm going to have to call 999 to come and pick you up." He paused, looking at Dan's wide eyed and terrified expression with sympathy. "You know your address?" Dan nodded weakly, watching as he walked over to a phone on a desk and dialing the three digit number.
999? Dan thought. That's the emergency line.
Mr. Jones said a few quiet sentences into the phone, and although Dan couldn't hear what he was saying, he was still trembling with the thought of being taken home in a police car, riding in the back like a criminal.
Dan squirmed in his seat, stomach churning. It took only five minutes for his ride to come, probably because the station was near the school. Mr. Jones told him to follow him outside. Dan, reluctant, did so.
When they got outside, there was a police car, one just as he had pictured, waiting for him. Mr. Jones opened the door and, shakily, Dan climbed inside. The man up front was in uniform, as expected, and looked old enough to be his great grandpa. Dan wondered about all the horrible things the policeman had seen. All the people he's had to take to jail, or to even kill.
They drove down the parking lot, away from the building and from Mr. Jones, who was watching from the pavement. The man driving asked him where he lived, and Dan told him, voice weak and croaky.
Don't cry, Dan. It'll be okay. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.
He told himself, trying to calm down by staring out the windows. The bars on them didn't help.
The ride there went by extremely slowly, and Dan dreaded the entire time he spent in that car. He just wanted to get home, to run inside and find out his mum was alright, to hug her and listen to her tell him how everything will be okay, like she always does. He wanted that more than anything.
When they pulled up, Dan nearly threw himself out onto the pavement.
"I'll wait here, alright? Go see if anybody is home, then come back out and tell me." The policeman said. Dan nodded, running to the front door and twisting the knob. It was unlocked.
He stepped inside, breathing heavily. "M-Mum? Dad?" He yelled, heart sinking slowly with every second of silence that followed. He edged through the house, trembling. He checked the living room and kitchen first, which were both empty, then his mum's room. Then his dad's. Then his. All empty. The only room left was the bathroom, which was at the end of the hall. He expected it to be empty, too, and to find out nobody was home--which was why he was so shocked when the door didn't budge at first push.
There was no lock on the bathroom, so something must be blocking it. Dan pushed harder, hearing a squeaky sound as it slowly moved. When it was wide open, the first thing his eyes landed on was a chair, which apparently had been what was blocking the door. The second thing his saw was his mum. He let out a panicked gasp as he took in the sight; she was, still wearing all her clothes, in the full bathtub. Her eyes were closed, and the water a orangy-red colour. She had an arm hanging off the side of the tub. Her already scarred wrist had, in contrast to the horizontal ones, three vertical cuts, fresh and bleeding onto the floor.
Dan staggered forward, noticing the other wrist was the same. "M-Mum?" He choked, dropping to his knees in front of the tub, his pants dampening with the blood spilled over the tiles.
"Daniel? Everything alright--?" he heard the policeman's voice from the front door, footsteps clicking as he spoke and cutting off when he made it to the bathroom. Before Dan knew it, he was being dragged away by his arms, pulled out of the bathroom and into the hall. He didn't object, he was too frozen to do anything, not even move or cry. The man dropped him, then ran back to the bathroom and started speaking hurriedly into the retriever on his shoulder.
Dan picked up a few things he was saying, like "son" and "mother", but the one that really snapped him out of his shocked state was "suicide", a word he had read about online.
Dan let out a choked sob, the tears he'd been holding all day spilling all at once, dripping down his face. He fell forward, eyes shut, holding himself up only by his trembling knees and hands, crying out wordless screams. He could feel himself breaking, shattering like a glass vase.
Dan wanted to wake up, to open his eyes and find out it was all a horrible dream, to be hugged by his mum again and listen to her comforting words.
He did open his eyes, but he didn't see his bedroom ceiling. Instead, he saw the tear-blurred flashing red and blue police car lights shining into his windows, their sirens loud and blocking out everything else, even his screaming, as other policemen rushed inside.
A/N - ahh that was long. also, 100 READS?! holy fudge, thank you all so much! please accept some cookies ( I don't actually have any cookies, nor do I have an ability to transport things through the internet, but could you just pretend I do and am handing them to you right now to avoid the embarrassment of me not giving you any cookies after offering them )