Smile, Dan

Chapter 8

*Dan's point of view*

      When I got back from coffee with Ann, Phil was waiting by the door.

      "It'll only take an hour," he quoted me sarcastically.

      "I lost track of time." I pushed past him and walked up the stairs.

      "You could have texted me saying that you'll be there longer than you thought." He followed me up the stairs.

      "Does it really matter?"

      "It does. I'm really worried about your mental stability." He stopped me by putting a hand on my shoulder. "I really am worried about you."

       "Thanks for caring, but I'm fine. All I did was get coffee with this girl."

      "And it took you two hours?"

      "Yes. We got into some serious conversations."

      "Do I detect something else going on? A slight crush maybe?"

      "Phil, you're such a fucking dork."

      "I know." He chuckled.

      "If you don't mind. I'm going to my room."

      I finished walking up the stairs and walked into my room. I sighed as I sat down at my computer desk. I opened up Twitter and scrolled through my feed. Nothing stood out to me but the negative, hateful Tweets.

      Why does my brain do that? I see all the positive feedback, but only the negative ones stick with me. I sighed as I closed out of Twitter and opened YouTube. I went through the comments, trying to find some to reply to, but it seemed to only be negative, hateful comments. One stood out the most. It read: "Dan, you're a fucking piece of shit. I used to watch your videos to make me laugh or feel better, but now I watch them when I want to see how much more talented other creators are compared to you. I hope you die, motherfucker."

      I didn't even realize I was crying till the tears hit my desk. I was unwanted here, but why do I still try. It's pretty obvious that no one cares.

      I went to the bathroom, picked up my razor blade, and started to see that familiar crimson flow. It was so dark and beautiful, but above all, it was mesmerizing. I sighed and put the blade down. I watched as the crimson flow fell off my arms and into the snow white sink below.

      After I cleaned up, I went back to my room. I checked my phone, and Ann had blown up my phone. Her texts gradually got more concerned because I wasn't answering. I texted her back saying I was fine and that I had left my phone in the other room while I was eating dinner. The next thing I knew, we were FaceTiming.

      We talked for hours until she fell asleep. I looked at the time. We had been on FaceTime for 6 hours.