Hope

14

**Arguments, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, and panic attacks**

Phil's POV
It had been two days, and we'd come so far. We'd picked an apartment, and ordered all the furniture. We were moving in later today. I should've been happy. But I couldn't seem to smile. This was the start of my new life, and for someone who hates change, it's pretty hard. That's when the panic kicked in.

Head, pounding.
Blood, rushing.
Heart, beating twenty times too fast.

Arms, tingling.
Room, spinning.
Lungs, filling with air you can't feel.

Voices, shouting.
People, running.
You, falling, until you hit the ground.

It's like your brain is shutting down. It's like it decides that enough is enough.

I feel arms around me. Dan's arms. I hear a voice, Dan's voice, telling me everything will be okay.

My breathing slowly returns to normal.

We move our things into the removal van.

We arrive at our new apartment.

Once we've finished unpacking everything, we decide to go and look for some wallpaper. That's when everything goes wrong.

Dan's POV

"I like this one," Phil says, holding up a blue and green chevron print.
"It's too bright, how about this?" I say, holding up a black and grey stripe.
"No, I don't like that." He says, bluntly.
"Why?" I look at him.
"Too depressing." He replies, looking away.
"What's wrong with depressing things?" I ask, feeling the voices getting in position in my head.
"Nobody likes them!" That's it. I run out of the shop, crying.
"Dan, wait! I didn't mean it like that..." His voice trails off as I run, not knowing where I'm going.

I eventually find an abandoned warehouse, where I climb in through a window and sob. My phone is ringing, Phil, but I can't answer. I can't do it anymore. He told me himself, nobody likes depressing things. And I am just one, huge, depressing thing. I'm not a person, I'm just an object. A piece in somebody else's cruel game. I can feel us drifting apart. I'm losing the only person who could ever make me happy. I'm losing the love of my life, over wallpaper.

I was staying strong because he wanted me to, but I don't think he cares anymore. He gave up on trying to ring an hour ago. He's probably gone back to the apartment and is just getting on with his life. He's probably over me already. That's the problem. He can move on, I can't. I love him too much.

Without him I don't have a purpose. I'm just another tiny, insignificant person in the vast space if the universe. I'm never going to make a difference. I've had my missing piece taken away from me. I need to end the pain, once and for all. Cutting won't cut it this time. I need to end it, for real.

I walk towards the window, and kick at the glass. A shard comes off in my hand, I drive it into the flesh in my arm, causing it to bleed, lots. I then walk over to my rucksack and open it. I had some tablets in there somewhere. The bleeding in my arm was starting to slow down, I obviously hadn't cut deep enough. I found the box I was looking for. I counted out thirty of the little white pills. I heard a siren, and saw blue flashing lights outside. It was now or never.

I ran into the corner of the room, and took the tablets one by one. Around ten minutes after the police first came in, I saw a torch.

"We've got him!" I heard.

Phil ran into view, tears ripening down his face. And that was the last thing I saw.

This story isn't finished, there's going to be at least 30 chapters with or without Dan. New chapter will be up tomorrow or Saturday (Dan's birthday)