unsaid things // phan (on hold)

Cold

I will put a // when suicide/self harm/harsh or suggestive language/graphic depictions of violence are mentioned.

(PHIL'S POV)
I looked down at my phone, "Hey guys, that was my mum, I gotta get going but I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Um, yah see ya." Chris said as I stood up and walked out the door. I had a bad feeling about this. About Dan, and what he said. Ever since that night on the bridge I just felt so protective of him, like I had to keep him safe.

I began to sprint to his house, not even caring if I were to fall on my face since my shoe laces were untied. I knew that there was a possibility that Dan really didn't feel well and he was fine, but I also knew that possibility was very slim and that if I didn't get there soon, something very bad could happen.

When I finally made it to the front door of the Howell residence, I knocked on the door. When no one answered, I knocked again harder, thinking that maybe someone just didn't hear me.

After that didn't work, I finally tried the door handle, and realized that it was unlocked the whole time. When I made it inside, I sprinted up the stairs, going two at a time.

I walked over to Dan's room, and when I saw that no one was in there, I walked cautiously around the upstairs of the house. I saw one room, with the door open ever so slightly, and I peered my head in, only to see an unconscious Dan curled up on the bathroom floor.

I pushed the door open, "Dan!" I screamed, grabbing his shoulders and shaking them, vigorously. "Dan, please wake up!" I was sobbing now, a trail of tears making their way to the white, tile floor.

I shakily pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed 999 (if your in America it's 911). "Help!" I screamed into the phone, "My friend, he, he tried to kill himself! Please hurry!"

"What's going on here?" I heard a raspy, female voice ask. I turned around to see a woman with tangled, brown hair and brown eyes. She was wearing a stained, white robe over some flannel sweatpants and a grey tee-shirt.

"Wh-who are you?" I asked, sniffling.

"I'm his mother." She said nastily, "Who are you?" She asked, glaring at me.

"I'm Dan's friend, Phil. Not that you would know that though, you barely even acknowledge that he exists!" I yelled, getting angry now. "Maybe if you actually cared than this wouldn't be happening right now! This is your fault! It's your fault that your son tried to kill himself, and it's your fault that he's probably going to die!" By now I was sobbing again, tears falling down on my hands that were now intertwined with Dan's.

The woman in the doorway just looked at me, appalled. She opened her mouth a few times as if to say something, but she didn't. She just looked at me, then at Dan, then at me again. Then she just walked out of the room. She just walked out! I couldn't believe it. I was so furious! I just punched the floor tiles as hard as I could with my free hand, which was not a good idea as my knuckles were now throbbing and aching.

I then heard a loud knock at the door, "Up here!" I yelled, wiping my eyes. Then three men came in the room, two picked Dan up and carried him downstairs on a stretcher, while one stayed back to ask questions.

"How did this happen?" He asked. I handed him the empty bottle of pills I found on the ground earlier. "Okay, and how did you find him?"

"H-his name is D-Dan," I replied shakily. "He, um, he tried to k-kill himself last w-week. S-so when he t-texted me that he didn't f-feel well, I thought that s-something was wrong, s-so I      c-came here."

The man nodded, "Okay," he replied as he scribbled on his notepad again. "What is your relationship to him?"

"I'm his, um, boyfriend." I replied. I knew we weren't dating or anything, but I wanted to go on the ambulance with him. No, I needed to. I couldn't leave him. And I knew that when Dan got out of the hospital, I would never leave his side again.