An// There's violence in this chapter, you've been warned.
When he woke up under the tree he immediately wished he hadn't. His stomach swirled uneasily with his anxiety that grew by the every second that he was awake for. He could hear the loud noises of the school bell and the chatter of too many conversations from too many people. They echoed in his head and he couldn't focus. He couldn't pull out the single words and make them form sentences.
Structure; that's what Phil needed above anything else. He needed stability and solid structure that come with routine. He needed structure in everything, words, people, events; everything. His teacher said he was autistic but Scott said that until he was ready for tests or if he ever was, she couldn't tell him that. Phil didn't want tests, he didn't want people and noises and sights and sounds he wasn't comfortable with.
That's why he was struggling now. It was half three and he was still at school, he should be starting to walk home by now. It would throw his whole day off now; he was supposed to walk home with Dan.
Dan.
He was going to be so mad at him, he'd soon realize how much of a freak he was and then he'd leave him. He didn't think he could cope with that. Dan was secure and safe, he was structure. He didn't need routine when he was with Dan because Dan was all the structure he needed. Dan was the hard exterior, the brick outhouse of something feeble inside; a protector, defender. Phil liked that.
He tried to think about Dan as he waited for the never-ending stream of students to die down. Scott had tried to get him to walk out with everyone once and he ended up hitting someone on accident. He never wanted to hurt anyone, not matter what they did to him and how much it damaged him because he knew how to felt to be beaten up by anyone and everyone; and like hell was he going to be the one who put anyone else through it. Since then, he'd wait in the classroom of his last lesson or head into the library if no one else was in there and he'd just wait. Sometimes he'd draw and other times he'd just think. Phil liked to draw, he liked the way he could manipulate images with his own imagination; he could give himself muscles and make himself strong enough to take on anyone who would dare scare him. If was different from just imagining being that person, drawing it and putting it down on paper made it real. That's why he was always so careful and concise with what he wrote down when he was talking to someone on; words were often spoken so carelessly, tossed into the atmosphere with no meaning and with nothing behind them. But when he wrote something to talk, he knew he was already being judged for not talking and his handwriting and what he said and how he said it. The written word was just entirely so much more real; it was long-lasting, permanent and no matter how much you tried to get rid of the words, they would always be there. The imprint of the pencil and words scratched onto the next piece of paper, stopping you from forgetting what was there.
He needed something to do. His hands were shaking with a ferocity that chilled him. He didn't want to stay here any longer than he had too but he didn't want to leave; what would happen if he just stayed here instead of going back to the care home? He'd be free then, no one would touch him or shout at him or hit and hurt him; he'd be safe. Properly safe, not like in the care home. He'd never been safe before; he always had to be on guard for a violent fist swinging down at him or worrying about whether he'd have a meal that day because he hadn't been fed for three days before it.
Phil wasn't stupid. He knew that his father was going to request to see him soon and then he'd be in for it. Scott had told him before that if he admitted what had happened to him with the detail of how long it had gone on then they'd be able to do more. He couldn't; it hurt too much to say it. It hurt too much to even think about it, "Hi, my name is Phil and my father beat me black and blue and left me for dead numerous times." No. They couldn't find out what happened to him, they'd realize how much of a freak he was and then Dan would leave him forever. Don't talk about what happened and then they won't make you keep reliving the memories of it. Scott said he'd be safe forever if he told but he couldn't and Scott needed to just accept that Phil would never be safe. There was always someone who would want to hurt him.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Illuminated // Phan (boyxboy)
FanfictionWhen home's not safe - where do you run? Thrown away like a useless piece of rubbish by his mother, Dan Howell thinks he's going to be alone in the world in his new carehome. What he doesn't imagine will happen is the unbreakable bond that forms...