Children of the Night

Part 4- Can You Feel My Heart

Dan's P.O.V

Another day of pain. That's all my life is now; pain. There's no happiness, creativity, life. I'm an empty shell, a watcher, I'm dead. This existence is stupid, pointless.

But, I still have to do things. Well, I don't, but I do them anyway. It's something to distract me from myself.

So I drag my body to school. I missed the bus so I'm walking, again. The day is sunny, making me feel even more depressed. I've always hated the days the sun shines so bright you can't see. It makes me uncomfortable, and seeing people being happy is torture. It's like they're teasing me.

But I know they're not; they're just happy. And I'm just jealous.

When I finally get to school, I've got gym. Thank fuck I'm late, or I'd have to argue with that judgemental pig of a PE teacher. 

I slink through the doors to the hall, and stand, leaning against the wall. He won't notice me, and if he does, he knows he'll just have to argue with me. One thing I like about myself: I talk back.

The rest of the day is boring as fuck. Normal. I sit outside at lunch and think, and look at my cuts. This is normal. Everything's normal, and I hate it.

After lunch, I have history. History used to be one of my favourite lessons, I think. I don't know what I liked about it, it's likely that it was because I could figure out how people in the past thought and how that affected their lives. That's likely; I like to do things that help me escape.

I'm sat at the back, picking at my cuts under the desk and thanking the heavens that I'm able to sit at the back today, when Ms Munsoy say my name.

"Dan, if you could please pay attention to me and not whatever's under the desk, thank you."

I blush and nod, muttering something like an apology. I start to listen, just so she doesn't question me again.

"... You'll have two weeks to complete it, Jamie. That should be long enough. So, I'll repeat for those of you that weren't listening," I get a pointed look, and so do a few others, "This will be a project on anything you want, as long as it's informative and you gain something from it. It will be an essay, because a speech isn't enough, Andrew..."

I stopped listening. As if I'd write an essay!

When I get home, I go to bed. My family are away for... two weeks, is it? I don't know. When they left all I remember is needing to cut. So when they finally went, I cut so deep I fainted. But I'm okay, obviously. Unfortunately.

I wake up around ten, and drink some water to try and still the rumbling's in my stomach. It's for my own good.

Then I just float around on the internet. I can't focus enough to play the piano today, I'll just fuck up.

After about an hour doing nothing, I see something that catches my eye. Maybe... I could do it for my history project?

No, it's stupid. I'll be discriminated against by the one teacher I actually happen to not hate.

I shut the laptop, and head to the bathroom. I do the usual, maybe I cut a little deeper. The usual.

When I'm asleep, I hear the faint echo of a male voice, singing Sunburn. But I'm too tired to react, and the last thing on my mind is the idea. The one I shunned before, but now it sounds kinda... good.

Necromancy.