Ironic Love // Phan

Home? I dont have a home.

~Philip~

He was outside. The wind howling making everything seem more blurry as he ran back home. The cold, London air making his lungs burn into fire whilst he ran, panting, telling himself to run away as fast as he could. Telling his legs to continue no matter how it felt. He just wanted an escape. He needed an escape.

He stopped.

Taking a moment to breath and take in everything he just witnessed. Wincing at the visual image again, trying to comprehend why Dan would do such a thing. He sat down for a moment, placing his hands above his head and resting it on his scrunched up knees. His brain filling up with foul thoughts and every possible outcome for this. The wind made him get goosebumps. He shivered, his teeth clattering together as the sun went down, the wind starting to get stronger.

Dan is just a cheater. A liar. Playing a dirty game with his own rules. And he won.

He snapped, punching the ground as hard as he could muster turning his knuckles red. It wasn't hard enough for him to bleed, but his hands felt like they were about to implode.

The boy stood up, his knees soaking wet from the tears he had shed for the past hour or so. He had lost track of time, but it was surely after six. The sun had just started to creep under the line dividing the Earth and the universe, creating a beautiful scenery with the clouds like a painting.

Phil sighed, his cheeks still tinted red from crying, and his nose felt like ice sitting in the frigid wind for so long. He didn't have much more left to get to where he lived, so he made sure to walk as slow as he could. Dreading the thought of getting there this early. But he really did have no where else to go, and he didn't care at this point.

He walked back home, ignoring the now dead silent birds. Home? I don't have a home. The ants went back into their own home sheltering from the cold. And the now stomped on flowers, most likely by the kids nearby, that used to rest in between the cracks of the pavement. All the small details were far to small for Phil to even notice anything. All he saw now was just the grey, bumpy road he had no choice but to walk on.

And so he did.

~ ~ ~

He stood in front of his own door, recognizable from the tiniest crack and splinter on the white surface. He gripped the cold door knob, immediately regretting it as he turned it open seeing the sight of two human figures in the kitchen. His shoulders slumped, still extremely upset over what happened and accidentally slamming the door shut causing a loud out of place noise as he took a couple steps towards the stairs.

Phil's parents, his father now in the lounge, jerked up and turned to him with a baffled expression. His eyebrows furrowed downwards making Phil internally punch himself.

"What the hell was that for?" He was practically shouting. Phil had no interest in talking to anyone soon, and didn't give a damn about anyone's business either. "And where were you?" He shouted louder.

Phil ignored him, he was by the stairs checking his phone mindlessly looking though the apps he normally didn't. "Answer me!" His father declared, smacking Phil's phone out his hand and slamming against the hard tile of his kitchen floor.

Phil barely had a reaction, knowing this happened almost every single day. Getting used to the pattern. It was normal for him.

"None of your damn business." Phil bluntly replied heading to retrieve his phone, bending down an fell straight towards the ground his jaw hitting the floor as his dad kicked him in the side. He was going through practically the worst time, and didn't have time to go through his parents yells and actions once again.

He stayed curled in the floor for a couple moments, trying to muster the intent to get up. His phone in his hand, he looked at the screen intending to look at the time, but tilting the device upwards to reveal his father approach him. He waited for the perfect moment, and as soon as he saw rushed movement Phil rolled over to his right, bumping with the refrigerator and back left when he felt another punch coming.

He stood up fixing his hair out of his eyes as he saw his dad hold his now red, right hand with his left. He grabbed his backpack that was on the floor and headed upstairs, locking his door and slamming himself onto his bed.

He bit his lip, suppressing the oncoming tears thinking back on what happened. It hadn't hit him. It felt unreal, but now that he knew it wasn't a dream, it hit him hard. So hard it shattered his heart and all feelings with it, letting them out in quiet, but rushed sobs as he gripped his blue and green duvet only to be driven to sleep.

~Authors Note:~
We're really sorry for the one week delay. We have no excuse. (Is procrastinating an excuse?)
-Z and L