Not A Game | Phan AU

Phil Lester | I

New story! I've been wanting to write this for soooooooooooooooooooooo long. Dedicated to Ally :D She knows who she is. :D

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"Hey faggot!" Phil Lester yelled.

I kept my head down and tried to walk past him without a fuss. The whole school knew I was gay, and Phil Lester was one of the many people that hated me for it. I didn't come out on my own though. My previous "boyfriend" outed me after he used me. Sadly, my plan of walking by did not work and I was shoved against the chain fence outside the school.

"Thought you could get away, huh Howell?" He said, his face right next to mine.

When I didn't answer him, he punched me in the stomach, making me whimper.

"When I ask you questions, you answer. Got it?" He spat.

"Y-yes." I whispered.

He grinned maliciously and dropped me to the ground, kicking me in the same spot he punched.

"I'm letting you off easy today, queer. You have 30 seconds to run and if I can still hear you, I'm coming after you."

My eyes widened and I shot up off the ground, grabbing my things and breaking into a sprint. I ran all the way to my house, through the door and up to my room, where I slammed the door shut, threw my bag to the side and slid down to the floor. Phil had bullied me since freshman year and we just started our senior year. It was torture and I constantly had to cover up bruises. I needed some sort of escape. I glanced down at my exposed wrist. I'd never cut before but I heard it feels good, letting the feelings out.

I stood shakily and went to the bathroom, rummaging around the cabinet behind the mirror before I found what I was looking for. The dull metal glinted against the harsh light of the bathroom as I held it above my wrist, over the sink. I felt the tears fall down my cheeks and I bit my lip as I slowly dragged the sharp blade over my wrist. It stung, but the sight of my crimson blood blossoming out made me feel better, somehow. I did it again, getting the same reaction.

After my third cut, I heard the door open downstairs, signalling the arrival of my mother. I locked the bathroom door and took my time to wash the blade and my wrist before bandaging it up and putting the razor away. I never thought I'd come to this point in my life. But I guess it happened. It's all Phil Lester's fault and he'll never know. He hates me for some reason and because of that, he hurts me on a daily basis so it's sorta natural that I hate him back.

He's never going to know the extent of the harm he does. He'll never know the pain I suffer or the thoughts that run through my head with every word he spits at me.