Hypnotised (Magnets Book 2)

Chapter 33

Dan's POV

We seemed to fight to much these days. That thought rang around my head as my hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, driving me into the inky night-morning, actually. Lights flashed as they passed, and rain began to fall, running down the windows. I slowed down the car, not wanting to crash.

But not wanting to stop.

I felt a restless tingle at the base of my spine, a tickle running up and down my body. I needed to do something, to feel something. To forget about everything.

I pulled over, my stomach lurching. I quickly exited the car and opened the door, leaning out and retching into the gutter. Nothing came out; my body just heave sand heaved until I managed to get air back into my lungs. I felt weak; I was cold and wet, my hands shaking and my eyes heavy with fatigue.

That was all before I started to cry.

It wasn't normal crying; it was proper gut sobbing. It was clenched fists and screwed up face and heaving lungs. It was tears and snotty noses and just fucking let me die because I can't handle this. My chest seemed to be caving in. No, not only my chest, but my whole life. Just collapsing on top of me, crushing me. Suffocating me.

Thunder flashed outside of the car. I winced and huddled back into my seat, the sobs finally subsiding slightly. I couldn't deal with this. Not with losing him. Not with fighting with him. I couldn't deal with the pressure of paying the bills or doing YouTube or taking care of myself, let alone Phil. I just couldn't. Not his death, his funeral-how am I supposed pay for a fucking funeral?

I collapsed into tears again. I'm going to lose Phil. I would be alone without him. I would just be another face on the street without Phil. He was the one that made me start YouTube, after all. I can't fucking lose him.

Yet, it was inevitable that I would lose him before he lost me. That wasn't supposed to happen. Fuck, I still needed him so much even after all these years. He was as necessary to my survival as water of food. I wasn't even kidding. Phil had kept me alive for so many years-now, I supposed it was my turn to return the favour.

It was like a glimpse into his head-into the pain and pressure I'd put on him, the obligatory feeling that said I had to take care of him. He of me. How did he handle this? Self-hate swelled in my mind.

Weak. Pathetic. He took care of you for years, and you can barely take care of yourself.

It'd been a while since I'd felt depressed like this, but you couldn't expect me to be all sunshine and roses after the announcement of my boyfriend's death. Y'know, because that's something that happens a lot.

I hunched over, wrapping my arms around me in a protective kind of shield, keeping out all the bad stuff and stress and pain and shit. I wanted to shut the whole world out and-not kill myself, but not live. I didn't want to live.

But I didn't let myself stay in that dark corner for long. Nope, I mustered up what little strength I had left and crawled back into the light, out of the cold and into the warmth. It all felt artificial, as if the light was coming from a lamp and not the sun.

I eventually picked myself up. Metaphorically speaking. Really, I just unfurled from my hunched over position and jammed my keys in the ignition. The rain had begun to fall heavier, the sky flashing with lightning. I adjusted my fringe, despite the fact that it was a hopeless, curly mess. Much like my life, except my life wasn't curly. But it wasn't exactly straight. Hetero.

I grinned sadly at myself, at my bad joke. I accelerated again, still feeling like pure shit. My eyes were bleary and crusty and no doubt more than a little swollen and red. My neck was sore. My phone chose that moment to ring. I saw that it was Chris.