"I think you have internalized homophobia."
Philip looked at her, his mouth slightly curved.
"Jokes on you."
--
Philip is a seventeen year-old teenager who just wants to try to live. Severely affected by a fatal accident that he deems himself to be...
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Philip gazed at the black case that rested on his bed. His fingers itched to play it, but he held himself back, trying to suppress his sudden wave of urgency.
"Phil, have you seen my--oh," Clyde stopped short on the threshold of Philip's room.
Philip continued to gaze at the sleek black case as he fiddled with the sleeves of his sweater on how wrist.
"I want to touch it," he whispered hoarsely. "I want to get lost in it."
Clyde looked helpless.
"But I shouldn't, right?" Philip whispered.
His eyes looked foreign to Clyde. As if he lost his brother completely. Even if it was for a mere minute.
"You know Phil, he loved it when you played the violin," Clyde murmured.
Philip gasped and clutched his chest as he let out his first sob.
"I can't I can't I can't I can't I just fucking can't."
Philip shook his head vigorously as he kneeled on the floor.
"I hate living," he cried out.
Clyde was starting to tear up as he helped his brother up.
"Cl-Clyde I can't anymore," Philip wailed as he held onto his brother.
Clyde watched painfully with teary eyes as his brother tore himself apart.
"I killed him, Clyde I'm sorry," Philip yelled. "I'm so so so so sorry, I didn't mean to."
Mrs Fork appeared in the doorway and covered her mouth with her palms when she silently started to cry.
"I fucking killed him!" Philip flailed his arms. "I'm so selfish! I hate living like this!"
Philip screamed clutching his brother's shirt.
His screams sounded awfully raw and real. He poured his entire energy trying not to break down like this, but it only seemed to wear him out eventually.
He wasn't able to grasp anything that wanted to hold him.
He clawed at his chest.
Philip's screams had alerted the Carsons on the other side of the street and the entire family came barging inside the ajar door of the Forks.
Soon enough, Philip had fainted.
~
"He hadn't eaten anything since morning," Clyde sighed. "The doctor told me that."
Carnel laid a comforting hand on Clyde's shoulder and gave it a small squeeze.
"You couldn't have known, Clyde," Carnel removed his hand from his shoulder and looked straight ahead, at the empty wall.
He then looked around at the nurses pushing IV tubes and walking around with a clipboard.
"But I should have, right? I should know if my brother is eating properly. I should know if he's sleeping properly. I'm such a crappy sibling at the end of the day," Clyde vented.
"Dude, look, this is not about you. Nothing from the past will have changed even if you blame yourself. We can only better ourselves," Carnel explained.
Clyde nodded slowly and looked to his right to see Cedric and Fletcher approaching them.
"Oh, hey," Clyde greeted them once they were in earshot.
"How is he?" Were the words that flew out of Fletcher's mouth.
"He is fine, just sleeping right now," Carnel stood up along with Clyde.
"Does he have to stay over?" Cedric asked.
"No, the doctor said we can take him home after he's awake," Clyde replied, shoving his hands inside his pocket.
"What did the doctor say?" Fletcher asked, sitting on the chairs aligned.
"He needs to put on more weight, and he said that he found no trace of any SNRIs in his system. Philip's not been taking any of them." Cylde replied, sitting next to Fletcher.
Fletcher leaned forward on his seat with his elbows on his knees as he propped his face up.
"Have you guys eaten anything?" Cedric asked, noticing the tired look on their faces.
"No, just that snacks we went out for today," Carnel replied.
"Same," Clyde muttered.
"Come on then, let's go down to the cafeteria and have something to eat. Bet y'all are starving," Cedric assumed.
"Fletch, you coming?" Carnel called out.
"No guys I already had dinner, you carry on," Fletcher reasoned.
"Okay, we'll be back soon," Cedric assured and guided the boys to the cafeteria.
Fletcher sat up and ran a hand through his hair.
"SNRIs," he muttered.
He wondered why Philip needed those. They were antidepressants.
Fletcher Handerson then came to a conclusion.
Philip Fork was depressed.
~
Mental health stories are underrated and quite limited on Wattpad which might be a problem because there are millions of readers on Wattpad and many of them are yet to be educated on the importance of mental health.
It is an understandable issue and here I am, ready to meet the requirements of a standard book that includes topics of mental health and characters who deal with severe mental illness.
