Hypnotised (Magnets Book 2)

Chapter 6

Dan's POV
Thankfully, a cab pulled over not long after that. I hopped in and told the driver Chris' address. As he drove I stared out of my window at the wet pavement and flashing lights. I felt numb. Images flashed by in my head, like a slideshow.

Angry eyes. Red. Pain. My mother, crouched on the floor crying. My father in the kitchen late at night drinking. Loud footsteps toward my bedroom. Insults. The shed at the back of my old school.

I shut my eyes. It was too much. I couldn't deal with this right now. I couldn't deal with myself. I couldn't deal with being on my own.

A familiar feeling was starting up on me again. It reminded me of those days. That restless and angry, yet tired and sad and achy feeling. That feeling that would only be alleviated by pain.

No. After all you've worked for. You can't do that.

The taxi had stopped. I tipped the driver and walked out into the increasingly cold night. I took the stairs, hoping the burning in my lungs would distract me from the horrors in my head. It did, but not for long enough.

I stood in front of Chris' door, too hesitant to knock. My hand was on the wood, yet the simple motion of banging it seemed to be impossible. I stood there for a long time. Standing there, breathing heavily, just in general feeling like shit.

Do it, Dan.

I steeled myself and knocked. I heard footsteps and the door clicked open. Chris had his phone to his ear. He wordlessly motioned me through, not hanging up on his caller.

His flat was roughly the same as ours, perhaps a bit less modern. I was now glad of the difference.

"... Yeah. Okay. Just one sec." Chris said as he pulled the phone away from his ear. "I'm so sorry Dan, just 5 more minutes, kay? Make yourself at home."

I nodded numbly and went and sat on the couch, pulling out my phone.

Big mistake.

Phil had texted me 4 times and I had two missed calls. I shoved it back in my pocket. No.

I stared at the wall until Chris came back. I hoped he understood. He always understood. Surely he would understand-

"Sorry 'bout that. Just sorting out lodging arrangements."

"Was that Peej, then?" My voice sounded as empty as I felt. Chris noticed it as well.

"What's wrong? Why are you here? Not that I'm opposed to spontaneous-" he checked his watch, "-11:34pm visits."

I put my head in my hands as fatigue overcame me. "Phil and I had a fight."

Chris nodded and sat down next to me. He waited to see if I had anything else to say, before asking, "so have you come to ask me for advice or do you need a place to stay?"

I tried to visually communicate to him that it was indeed the latter.

"Okay. You can take the spare room. Lucky I've just cleaned it up," he chuckled softly.

I nodded and stood up. I felt tired and weary. I swayed on the spot.

"Woah," muttered Chris. He put his arm around my shoulders and guided me to bed. Everything was hazy and soft. I shut my eyes. It was so ugly. So harsh. So cruel.

Then I felt a soft blanket over me. But it wasn't soft. It was extremely rough and it hurt. It hurt the scars on my back and it hurt the scars on my wrists and it hurt the scars in my mind.

It all faded to black.

Phil's POV
I didn't know the time... It could've been 4am for all I knew. Actually, I thought as I focused more on the microwave numbers, it was 4am. I sighed and turned my back on it. I hated time.

Time, such a huge factor in our lives. Perhaps if we had less time we would be more focused on important things. Instead of killing each other and making each other cry.

But sometimes crying wasn't the only way you could express pain. Sometimes people wrote poems, others chose to drown it out with music. I got drunk.

No, I wasn't an alcoholic. It just helped.

So there I was. Sitting on the couch at 4am, with the early symptoms of a hangover coming on.

Not so amazing right now, hey Phil?

I sighed in annoyance. Fuck. I hated myself for poisoning myself so. For putting these toxins into my bloodstream just for stupid bloody sanity.

I got up, and the world tilted sickeningly. I ran to our bathroom. Saliva flooded my mouth. I threw up into the toilet over and over and over again.

With the toxins all out of me, my head felt much clearer. It just hurt. I retired to my bed. Thinking hurt. Moving my neck hurt.

Hurting Dan hurt.

Then I was lost in the painless oblivion of sleep.

Dan was watching me. We were standing in a field of flowers of all kinds. Their fragrant aroma filled the air. The son shine so brightly. He stood 10 feet away, just staring. It was his expression that alarmed me, though. It was of fear. He looked terrified. Absolutely horrified.

I went to walk towards him, but something kept my feet in place. I tried to yell, but the words got caught in my throat and I choked on them.

I felt a shadow come over me. I wanted to turn around and see what it was, but again I couldn't move. Dan's was yelling, but I couldn't for the life of me hear what he was saying.

The last thing I saw in my dream was a pair of black, soulless eyes. Then just black.

Dan's POV
I woke in a cold sweat, fear gripping my heart. That dream had felt too real. Again. I rolled over to wake up Phil.

Then everything came flooding back, along with the pain. I let out a small choked sob, and sitting there in the dark, I felt so alone. I felt so isolated. I needed my mother. I needed a hug. I didn't know how I had strayed alive so long, but now I was struggling. I cried, tears dripping down my face onto my blanket.

Here I was, in an unfamiliar apartment, all alone, depressed and ruined. No one was fucking there for me.

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I
I feel actual physical pain in my heart. Not even kidding.

ugh thanks for reading X,_X