Flower Thief (Phan)

Chapter One

most, if not all chapters, will be written in Dan's point of view. If it changes, I will inform you. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy c:

{slow updates bc i suck}

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I sit slouched in my browsing position, though I'm not browsing much. My mind keeps drifting off to things it doesn't need to be focusing on.

I'm trying to come back from my depression but it gets harder everytime and add my anxiety to the equation, it's impossible.

I just can't get a grip on anything. I can't understand. Why? Why did she have to be taken from me so soon?

My laptop screen dims and I suddenly remember I've been using for the past four hours. I sigh and get up, plugging it in before trudging to my bed. I don't even stop for food or a drink, I just can't be bothered.

I clamber into my bed, skinny jeans and all, and fall asleep. That's all I can do these days. Browse the Internet for unnecessary amounts of time, and sleep. I do eat, but I always feel full a few bites in and I can't finish it or if I do, it doesn't stay down.

When I wake up, I can't even remember what day it is. But I feel like visiting her grave.

I do almost everyday.

I stand up, slipping on a jack and brushing my hand through my messy hair and slip on my shoes. Then I'm off.

On my way there, I pass a house surrounded by flowers. I usually pick some to bring to her grave.

I lightly brush my fingers against the light pink and red petals, searching for the perfect one.

I reached for like light pink rose, having done this a million times before. But this time a voice stopped me.

"Hey! What are you doing with my flowers!"

My heart stopped.

The guy, with slick black hair and pale skin made his way to me.

"Are you stealing them for a girl? This girl better be prettier than Aphrodite to be worth stealing my flowers over."

How was I supposed to explain to him that I was taking them to her grave?

"I, uh.. I.. I'm sorry, I, uh-"

"Do you always do this? How long have you been taking my flowers? Do you know how hard I work on these?" He asks, getting angrier by the second, which causes my anxiety to fall onto me full force.

My chest starts feeling right and I feel like I can't breathe. Tears slip out of my eyes and the guys face turns confused before softening.

"Are you okay?" He asks, softer but anger still prominent.

"I.. I'm taking them.. t-to her.." I can't get my words out, which makes him even angrier.

"Spit it out, Kid!" he nearly shouts at me.

I'm hyperventilating at this point, trying to recollect myself.

"H-her grave.." I stutter out, almost a whisper.

His face instantly drops, "Who's grave?"

My breathing starts to come back, as he calms down. I focus on my breathing for a minute before answering him.

"My little sister..."