Speak up already - Phan

By geniusotaku

3.7M 163K 228K

Phil doesn't talks. Well, not anymore. The last time he said something, was when he didn't hate himself. And... More

Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22 - Ending
Chaper 23 - A NEW BEGEN ING
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Sequel - Chaper 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
END

Chapter 1

184K 5.9K 9.8K
By geniusotaku

Phil's POV

"Phil, why don't you talk to us anymore?" My mother cries, hugging my father for comfort.

"Son, we are really worried, the last time any of us heard your voice was...well I can't bloody remember!" He sighs sadly.

I don't feel guilty. Not at all. They should be relieved. Happy, even. That their youngest 14 year old son was never going to annoy them. Ever. Again.

*4 years later

"PHIL! BREAKFAST!" My mother yells from downstairs, making me trudge my way into our kitchen.

She smiles sweetly at me, eyes hopeful. I nod my head no.

"No breakfast honey?" She asks, in a dissapointed tone.

I get out my little notepad, scribbling down a quick "No Thanks mum," before making my way to school.

As always, I attempts to avoid any looks shot at me on my way to school. To them, I look like an ordanairy schoolboy, but on the inside, i'm broken. Very broken.

I haven't been talking...for quite a while. I have suffered, well I am suffering in depression, and I get anxiety, as well as panic attacks frequently. School doesn't help one bit.

My hands start to shake, when I see anyone looking at me. It may even be in a nice way, but all my thoughts trace to one thing : they know.

They know how dirty, filthy, worthless, unwanted and disgusting I am. It's like my mind jumps to the stupid conclusion of them being able to tell my whole past just from my eyes.

However, I don't risk it. I never do. That's why I can't let anyone get close to me. It's not like they'd want to.

My whole school knows about me not talking, and just ignore it. Acting as if it isn't there. Acting as if I wasn't there.

"Hi Phil." My friend Anna smiles, linking arms with me in a friendly way.

She acts all touchy-feely with me. but I don't mind, consdering she came out as "not into the d" a few years ago. Also, she knew I was gay before I came out, back when I used to talk. She knows almost everything about me. She even knows my horrible past one day when she begged me to tell her. Luckily, she had never bought it up to this day since.

But, that doesn't stop it from surging its way back to the front of my brain, showing the horrible memories in a form of a flashback.

We both walk to our first class together. It was form time, another name for role-call.

Unfortunately, Anna sits on another table from me. I, of course, sit on my own in the back. These are our permanent seats.

I continue to keep my head down, as the teachers call out our names for us to answer.

"Phillip!" Mr Anderson calls, as I raise my hand.

He sees me, and nods, continuing with the names. We have been through enough, especially him to know that I won't be talking for...a while. So he has given up hope. Much like everybody else.

The chatter arises from the classroom as students talk about the latest gossip or football match over the weekend. I just sit there, on my own. Forgotten,

Suddenly, the door opens, and I hear an office lady mumble something to the teacher before leaving. I still haven't looked up, it probably won't be that important anyway.

"Class, this is Daniel, our newest student. Treat him with kindness and respect, like you would treat your best friend. Now let's seem where can we put you...ahh, Lester!"

I chirp my head up at my name, to be met with a brown-haired boy, who seemes to be studying my appearance. He smiles, making his way over to my desk.

"Dan." He greets cheerfully, holding out his hand for me to shake.

I shake it, taking my little notebook and scribbling down something, I hand it to him as he reads it.

Hi, i'm Phil

He laughs, looking back up at me smirking.

"Don't like talking huh?" He continues smiling, as if this is all a huge joke.

I shake my head no, and scribble back something else.

I don't talk because 'I don't want to', I don't talk because I don't deserve to. I suffer depression, so trying to make 'small talk' with me won't lighten the mood Dan. You probably won't want to be my friend now.

He looks shocked, smiling back sympathetically, before quickly wiping away that face, and replacing it with a smile. Not a smirk, but an actual smile.

"Well, Phil Lester, I would love to be your friend. You sound like quite a character." He chuckles, his brown eyes shimmering slightly.

I don't know if I like this boy yet...

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