voices | phan au

Chapter Fourteen

(A/N Hi, so I didn't update when I said I was. But here is a promise. I promise I will update AT LEAST once every three weeks, if I don't I will delete this story. No joke. Anyway, enjoy the chapter!)

!!TRIGGER WARNING!! (SIGN FOR THE WARNING ;; *!!*)

I knew what they were talking about. I couldn't help it! It's not my fault my homophobic parents chose that school, it's theirs. I feel so bad for Phil. I wish I could do something to make this better, but there just isn't a possibility of me trying to fix this.

He walked back in, looking downhearted and upset. I stood up and hugged him tightly.

"Well, I guess we better make the best out of the time we have left then." He said, anger and sadness filling his tone.

I pulled away to write:

"I guess so, also when is that holiday you're going on?"

He looked confused, I think it is because I was writing. There is a reason behind that.

"Umm, in about two days. Sorry you con't come?" He said, confusion flooding his face.

*!!*

I shrugged my shoulders, pecked his cheek and brushed past him walking up the stairs to go to the bathroom. I had urges, ones that felt common. I felt like I had to do it to be some what happy for Christmas this year. Before I could even let my doubts run through my mind, I appeared to have grabbed the razors that Phil failed to hide and deeply start cutting at my wrists. I don't know why, I had urges and the voices in my mind telling me to do it.

Tears rolled down my cheeks, not from pain, but purely from knowing how worthless I am. From knowing how unimportant I am to Phil. Before I could sob loud enough for people to hear, I heard a knock on the door.

"You almost done in there Dan? C'mon! People are coming round soon!" Mr.Lester said, jokingly. I froze, cleaned up, hiding the razors and left, leaving him with a small smile. I dashed into mine and Phils room, got ready and dashed downstairs. I sat in the living room and switched the TV on. Phil wasn't anywhere to be seen. If he found out about this, I'm, fucked basically.

(ABOUT 6 HOURS LATER)

Me and Phils family were having a good time, but I was really quiet. I just smiled if someone spoke to me. The amount of times Phil mouthed and asked if I was okay was unreal. I just nodded. I know I seem like a right dick head, but I was feeling myself again, with the cutting and stuff. If I didn't have those cuts on my wrists, I wouldn't be the same person.

It's now about 1am and I was dozing off into the sofa crease I had created with my spine. Mrs.Lester tapped me, telling me I should probably go to bed, she said Phil went up about 2 hours ago. I obliged to her and went up to his room. Once I opened the door, he was dead asleep. I got into my boxers and jumped into his bed.

(2 DAYS LATER)

Phil was no on holiday and all that was left was me and my thoughts. Shit.

You're worthless, you know that right?

No I am not.

Yes you are! Hey Dan, remember those razors? Those cigarettes? Those beer bottles you own?

Well, yes?

Who isn't here?

Phils mum, his dad, his-

PHIL! PHIL IS NOT HERE. YOU STUPID BOY. PHIL ISN'T HERE!

So?

You know you're going to end up using them one way or another.

(THIRD PERSON)

Dan got up and walked into his and Phils room and looked around frantically, searching for the drawer he kept to himself. He reached in his drawer for a lighter and a packet of cigarettes.

Do it.

He opened the window to the bedroom, placed the cigarette between his lips and burnt the end. It tasted good, it tasted like home. One cigarette lead to a whole bottle of beer, one bottle of beer ended up in one cut and it was a continuous cycle. Dan hated the fact that he loved it so much. He couldn't help it. He felt like he needed to do it. His thoughts peer pressured him into doing it. This was a deadly cycle for a week, he was skipping every meal and not eating at all.

He woke up one morning and felt really groggy. He sat up, opened his window, lit another cigarette, smoked it all and got a beer, the a cut and another cut and another. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. His skin all over his body was grey and lifeless. His hair was oily and tangled. His ribs were sticking out of his skin, as were his knee caps, elbows, ankles and any bone that sticks out. The contours of his face were well defined. Scars covered his whole body. He opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out paracetamol, when a tub of sleeping pills fell out.

He couldn't! He wouldn't! As much as he wanted to die, he couldn't kill himself for that Phil has done for him. However, he looked at himself and saw nothing left, he contemplated it for a couple of moments, but said no. Time passed, cigarettes were burnt, beer bottles were emptied and razors were being used left right and centre. Food in the fridge? Nope. He would rather starve.

Muse was blaring through speakers and Dan really couldn't care if he died. His thoughts got darker and more and more suicidal.

FUCKING TAKE THE PILLS!

No! Well, actually...

Do it, we've got about two hours before Phil comes home!

One by one he swallowed the sleeping pills. He swallowed his 20th pill and his eyes starting to blur and stars clouded his vision. He left a sloppy note, before smashing his head on the kitchen floor:

"I love you Philip Michael Lester. Never forget that..."

(A/N: I don't know what this chapter is. Rip me. But srsly, I hope you guys enjoyed his chapter and I will talk to you soon.)

Bekah Xxx