Silent Boy | Phan

//chapter one//

Daniel Howell is a wreck.

This is the only information I got before the mysterious boy with brown eyes showed up on our doorstep.
His eyes, his eyes.
I couldn't stop looking at his eyes.

He glared and looked away.

I coughed and hung my head.
"Father? He's here."
A grumble emmited from the living room where I could imagine my strict father sprawled out on the couch taking up two seats instead of just one.
There would probably be a drink in his hand.
He's not an alcoholic.
He just likes to drink.
A lot.

But that doesn't make him an alcoholic, does it?

I heard the couch squeak as he rose, and the creak of the old floorboards as he trudged to the front door.
"Come in then, let me have a look at you."
Daniel Howell, with his head down, gracefully slipped in the front door, careful not to trip over.
I liked the way he walked.

"Why the fuck are you wearing a jumper?"
I heard Father mumble.
Not loud enough that Daniel Howell could hear, but I have good ears.
My mother had them too.

She doesn't anymore.

She doesn't have anything anymore.

She's dead.

Father closed his eyes.
He was distracted.
He didn't say anything.
It was thirty seconds before Daniel Howell started to fidget and look uncomfortable.
"Father? Are you okay?"
I asked, taking pity on the self consious boy.
He threw his head up, and opened his eyes, glaring.
"Of course I am. Take Daniel up to his room. Make friends with him, or don't. I don't fucking care."

I grabbed Daniel Howell's free hand and led him up the stairs behind me.
His hand was soft.

It was at the top of the stairs that Daniel Howell pulled his hand away from me and shot me another one of his glares.

I didn't mind him glaring at me.
It meant I got to see his eyes.

I led him through the hallway.
It was narrow.
His room was opposite mine.

I opened the door.
He barged past me rudely and slammed the door behind him.
It almost got my fingers.

I turned around and opened the door that led to my bright, colourful mess of a room.
I can't describe it.
It is bright, and colourful.

I curl up in a ball on top of my bedspread.
It is green and blue squares.

I want to get to know Daniel Howell.
He seems interesting.

I think I'll call him Dan.
Dan Howell.

That has a nice ring to it.

I heard a crash from downstairs.
It was Father.
He must've fallen over.
Again.

He can't walk straight when he's drunk.
He can't think straight either.
Maybe that's why he hits me.

I hope he doesn't hit Dan.
Dan doesn't need to be hit.

Daniel Howell will be my friend.