Flames {phan au}

*purple and blue but they aren't from you*

Dan: (finally)

I check my phone its 12 degrees C outside and I'm chilly. All I have is my school uniform on and it's not like it is very thick. At least Phil doesn't live that far away from me. Phil. I already miss him. Ugh, pathetic Dan. Truly and utterly pathetic. Don't get too attached to him, he's going to leave you like everyone else. He doesn't care either. He only kissed you back to be nice. Don't get attached. That's what my brain is telling me, but as cheesy as it sounds my heart and soul are saying another. They're saying that he cares for you and even though he didn't say it back, those tears he shed when you told him you love him shows that he loves you so much words dont describe. My heart and brain are on opposite sides of the spectrum. It makes this whole thing confusing. I could've also secretly creeped him out. I mean we've known each other for a day and I told him I loved him. I mean I dont even love my parents, and they've been in my life for 17 years. Well, my father for 10 but he's nothing to be proud of. He's a drunk. He drinks, does drugs, and beats his kids. He beats me more than my brother, mainly because I take his faults and take them as my own. Like when Adrian spilled paint in the garage I told dad I did it. I got the shit beat out of me, I got a cigarette to my arm and got smacked in the mouth. I'd rather it happen to me than to him. He's only 12 and has already not had the best 12 years. For the first few years he didn't have a father. Was diagnosed with dyslexia 5 years ago. Then we lost our mother 3 years ago. It was and still is the worst thing to happen to both of us. Even before she died dad was a drunk, beat us in front of her, but she couldn't do anything, she always told us she tried, but she couldn't. We never blamed her for it but she blamed herself. That involved her to fall depressed and commit suicide. Dad got even worse. Now, there was really nothing she could do, because she's gone, and now me and my brother are living in an even bigger hell than before. That loss, the main reason I lost my voice. But like Peej said, I was quiet before because I never had a lot to say which was true. But after that I really didn't have anything to say ever. I thought I should save my breath. Which I do, everyday.

I reach my doorstep. I'm worried about what I'm going to find on the other side of this door. A drunk father, again. A sobbing innocent little brother who just wants to be happy. Or worse, if there was anything worse. I put my key in the lock and turn it. Silence. Something I haven't heard in awhile. It's nice. Then I remembered. Adrian is with our grandparents for a few days. I have a terrible memory sometimes. I then hear a bottle break. Oh god. He found the Vodka. Vodka was our fathers drinking weakness. He was most destructive on Vodka. Who knew a drunk had a drinking weakness. A knot started to form in the pit of my stomach. At least Adrian will be safe this time. I started walking to my bedroom. I made the floor creak. Shit.

"D..Daniel..is.is..t..that..you?" my father stammered out. He stumbled out of his bedroom and headed towards me, I dare not move or I'll get it worse. I stay put as he drops the empty Vodka bottle and crosses his arms. He looks furious.

"W..where the fuck have you b..been?" he asks me. My father knows I dont speak, but chooses to not acknowledge it. He instead uses it as an excuse to hit me. His eyes are full of fury, I already know this isn't going to end well at all.

-

"Oh, n..not going to sp..speak are we? Well I can solve that litt..little issue." my father raises his hand and smacked it across my cheek. I let out a little whimper. My lip is bleeding. But I cant defend, it will again, end up being worse in the end.

"Never..mind I can answer that for myself. You..you were fooling around with some..with some other faggot weren't you?" My dad was well aware of me being gay. He never approved. But when my mother was alive he didn't do anything about it. But now he does. He connected his fist to my stomach, I let out a noise and collapsed to the floor. I let out another whimper. Not long until his feet were connecting to every part of my body they could reach. I was crying. Lying on the cold wood floor of my house. He grabbed my uniform shirt and pulled me to my feet and pushing me hard against the wall, his grip still around my shirt. His breathe was warm and reeked of alcohol. His bloodshot brown eyes connected with mine. He lit a cigarette.