The Cover Up (Phan)

Chapter 9

Trigger warning!

Dan's P.O.V.

As stared at my front door I felt my body fill with terror. I was terrified to step foot inside my own house. I knew they would be there, both of them.

When I entered my body inside I was greeted by a punch to the stomach. The pain was so powerful, it dominated my weak legs, causing me to fall and land on my knees. My eyes traveled from the floor up to my step father's face. By the way, he was standing I can tell he was completely wasted, like always. The last time I remembered him being in a sober state was when my biological mother was still alive. Ever since he and my stepmother became my legal guardians, it seemed like he was hammered 24/7.

"Becky! Faggot's home!!!" His words were cold and heartless. He pushed me down, making my face meet the freezing ground. Abruptly, I felt my body receiving numerous punching and kicking. In the corner of my eye, I could see a coat of red liquid covering the shiny white floor.

The feeling of my own blood rushing rapidly to my mouth was so familiar. The taste of it making contact with my tongue was like no other. But I had gotten completely used to the taste and sensation of the substance escaping my mouth. The one thing that still felt impossible to get used to was the pain. The screaming, yelling, and salty tears traveling down my face and creating a disgusting mixture in my mouth. No matter how many times I have experienced it, I cannot get used to it.

All of it just continued, especially the pain. The surrounding noises became almost inaudible, all except for Nick's hurtful words.

Becky was just sitting on the sofa on the other side of the living room. She had a ciggirate in her left hand and her eyes were just staring into space, with an expressionless look. It was obvious she wasn't just drunk, but also stoned. When we met eyes she radiated an evil laugh.

I felt every action move in slow motion and my eyes felt heavy. The kicking stopped, which took me by surprise. Then, I got pulled by my collar. Nick started punching my face left and right with no hesitation. I could feel it dripping with a fluid.

After countless hurtful acts, there was one that made my whole body numb and my vision blurry. Soon after the blurriness became darkness. I was lost in a deep and painless slumber.

All that soon ended when I found myself laying in the middle of the living room, everything hurt. I guess Nick just left my body here like he does after every beating.

I got up slowly glad that the bruises aren't creating their worst pain just yet. I then grabbed a damped rag and began to clean up the mess. As the rag was rubbing against the hard floor, magically making the red stains disappear, my vision became foggy and my anger kicked in. Why did I wake up?!! I was so happy and peaceful. Nick should have killed me. Why does he even want me alive? I am just his punching bag! Why does he hate me so much, so much that he makes me suffer by letting me live?

My feet got up, not caring about the physical agony I was in. I busted in the washroom, locking the door behind me. My anger was taking over my body and I started to hit myself with all my strength.

After a few minutes, the punching on my chest became softer, light touches which then transformed into sobbing. The rage became sadness, there was so much my body sank to the floor.

I then brought my knees up to my chest and started crying loudly. It's almost like I took all that anger, multiplied it by 10, and added all that I was bottling up inside. That's the amount of heartache my body was experiencing.

Suddenly, it became harder to breathe and there was a sharp pain in my chest. I began to have major shortness of breath. Every time I tried to inhale, it was more like my body gasping for oxygen. Like there wasn't enough for me.

The tears didn't make it better. In fact, it was more difficult. Now I had to focus on both things. Shortness of breath and my ability to control my sobs.

Realization hit me, this was a panic attack. The only way to ever get rid of them is by using my little friend.

I opened my secrent compartment and pulled it out. My shaky hands began to make thick marks on both of my wrists. The horrizontal lines weren't enough. Getting rid of my panic attack wasn't enough. I wanted to get rid of all the pain, the memories, simply get rid of my life.

I began to create vertical marks. Making sure to run the blade over every visible vein. My mind played every painful memory that had once occurred. The images and audios drove my brain to cut deeper.

Although the pain alone makes it feel better, this time, it wasn't enough. I was determined to end it for good this time. I was relieved and happy that it would all be over soon.

Not long after, I felt dizzy. The whole room was spinning. But I continued, enjoying the sight of my final drops of blood being pulled by gravity and landing on the sink and floor.

Once again,the spinning and blurriness from my eyes became darkness. As my body collapsed, a smile appeared on my face by just thinking about these being my last seconds in this cruel world. I was happy for the first time, I was truly content with myself.

AN// HI guys! I wanted to update cuz exactly 2 years ago is when i watched my first Dan and Phil video and they saved my life :)