Phanfiction - Wonderboy

Part 12 - Vodka and Cigarettes

(TRIGGER-WARNING: if you have a hard time reading about sorts of self-harm, skip)

Phil's POV

 

I woke up and felt like shit. I've must've fallen asleep during the sobbing. I was planning on going to school. No way was I staying home. "Little gay boy doesn't want to go to school after he had a fight with his boyfriend." No way! Wait... Was Dan still my boyfriend? We had a fight. But does that mean we broke up?

I stood up and looked in the mirror. I looked like a living dead. I sighed and put some clothes on. I could hear my family downstairs.

When I walked into the kitchen, they were all sitting there and eating breakfast.

"Good morning sweetie." my mum said when she saw me.

I faked a smile and sat down and started eating.

"So when did you come home last night, you weren't at home for dinner?" my mum said.

"Yeah I was. I wasn't feeling well so I just stayed in my room." 

"Oh yeah, your teacher called me. Uhm... What is she called?" my mum asked.

"Mrs. Wilson." I said with my mouth full.

"Yes. She said you got sick and that Dan walked you home."

Hearing Dans name felt like getting kicked in the stomach and I wanted to scream, but I knew I couldn't even if I tried, since I didn't have any power to do it after the almost sleepless night of hell. I nodded to my mum and left the table.

"You haven't finished your breakfast." my mum said wondering.

"I'm not really that hungry." I said.

"Are you still sick darling? Want to stay home?" she asked worried.

"No I'm just not hungry." I answered short and grabbed my bag and jacket and walked out the door.

When I walked outside, there was Dan walking past. My body froze completely, as I stood still and looked at him. He stopped and looked at me, but before he or I could say anything, I quickly turned around and walked the other direction. It was a long way round, but everything was better than walking with Dan right now. I was still mad at him for lying to me. But I was also heart-broken.

When I got to school, Dan hadn’t got here yet.

“Maybe he returned home when he saw me? I really hope so.”

But seconds later Dan walked in. First there did I notice his eye was dark and swollen, and you could see marks from a fist. My fist. I felt bad about hitting Dan, because it wasn’t on purpose, but I didn’t regret anything I said.
The girls was, as usual, standing in a form of circle and gossiping. I poked Emily and pulled her aside.

“Hey, do you think you can switch seats with me?” I asked her.

I obviously couldn’t sit next to Dan, and I knew Emily wouldn’t mind, plus she was sitting next to Carrie.

“Why, are you and Dan not on speaking terms?” she asked.

“Not really, no.”

“Well, I don’t mind switching.” She said.

“Great, thank you.”  I said and smiled.

I sat down next to Carrie, and she gave me the biggest smile.

“Are you sitting here now?” she asked.

“Yes, is that a problem?” I asked.

“Not at all, I just thought you were sitting next to Dan.”

“Yeah I was.”

“But then you got into a fight, and now you don’t want to sit next to him.” Carrie said, strangely correct.

“What?” I asked confused.

“Oh come on. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed he’s got a black eye?” she said.

I shrugged and started taking my books out.

“Well if it wasn’t you, then why won’t you sit next to him?” Carrie asked.

“Look, I don’t want to talk about it, ok? Can we just let it go?” I said.

She sighed.

The rest of the day disappeared with Carrie. We were laughing, worked together and I was so thankful for not being alone. I’d bet if you saw, you couldn’t see the pain that hid inside me, and gave me lumps in my throat and kicked me in the stomach. When I looked at Dan, he looked so casual, besides the black eye. It was like he had no emotion. He spent his day with the people he used to go with. Lily, Mike, Jeffrey and all the other popular people. And when he talked with them, it was like his smile was just plastered on. Because I’ve heard Mikes jokes, and they aren’t that funny. So Dan must’ve been faking it. The few times he looked at me, I quickly looked away. I couldn’t bare eye contact.

It was Friday and my parents and my brother were out of town for the whole weekend. They excepted me to go camping with Dan for the whole weekend, so they hadn’t made any plans including me. The last few nights have been the toughest nights of my life. I didn’t really get any sleep, and I didn’t eat much. I didn’t want anything, I just wanted Dan. I figured if I just buried my thoughts by reading a lot, then I could handle this weekend by myself. That was basically what I’d been doing these few days. Read.

It helped a little bit. But then I found a picture of Dan. It was lying under one of the books I was reading, that was laying on the table. It was a summer day, and Dan was sitting on the lawn and smiling to the camera, which I was holding. Why was he smiling? There was no reason to smile. I threw the picture away and could feel the tears started rolling down my cheeks. I sat down on my bed and buried my face in my hands.

After about 20 minutes of crying, I realized how pathetic I was. I refused to sit and cry, like a freaking baby. I’d show them. I’d show them all. I went downstairs and found a half bottle of vodka and a pack of cigarettes, which belonged to my dad. I went into my room again, sat on the floor and took a sip of the vodka. It tasted horrible, and it burned my throat. I took the picture of Dan and looked at it while taking another sip. It actually worked looking at Dan, ‘cause the burning in my throat got overwhelmed by the pain in my heart. I took out a cigarette and read on the pack. SMOKING KILLS it said.

“Yeah, I’d be lucky.” I whispered and lit it up, and after a couple puffs I was able to inhale.

I drank some more vodka. The room started spinning a little, but it was nice. There were no feelings, I was just numb. I was just about to go downstairs with the, now empty bottle of vodka, but my legs gave in and I fell to the ground. The bottle broke on the floor. I just lay on the floor and looked up at the ceiling. I gave a little laugh.

“Damn I’m drunk.” I said.

The next morning I woke up and felt like shit. I had a headache, my bag hurt, my throat hurt, I was tired, and I felt like throwing up. It took a little while to memorize what had happened last night. But then I remembered it was the need of Dan that started the whole thing, and suddenly I felt horrible on the inside again. Then I noticed the broken glass on the floor. I remembered reading about cutting. That it was only insane people that cut. If you weren’t insane, you were just seeking for attention. I almost hit a tear off my chin.

“Fuck it.” I said, as I took a piece of glass and slowly drove it over my left arm.

Then another came, so I quickly made another cut. It felt incredibly good to feel the cold glass against my skin. And it really helped. I couldn’t feel any pain inside anymore. I kept going for a little while. Then I dropped the glass on the floor. I studied the cuts for a while.

“Just call me insane or attention-whore…”