secret soulmates // phan

six.

Dan
Once I've reached the toilet, I immediately lock the door. I want to sit down, but everything is spinning. I feel myself getting sick. Quickly, I turn around and vomit into the toilet.

Gross.

I'm mad at myself for not ignoring Joel. I still gave him his greeting. Even though I tried to make myself as big as possible, like nothing hurt me, I still gave him what he wanted. I don't want to look vulnerable. I don't want him to think I'm an easy target. But there's just nothing I can do about it.

I flush the toilet and sit down. I cup my face with my hands. After my head stops spinning, I look into the mirror. There's a cut on my lip and a few scratches on my face. They're not deep, but the blood just makes it look worse. Carefully, I lift up my jumper.
Bruises. Blue, green and yellow bruises. Some old, some new. All disgusting.
I see some red marks on my skin. I've had worse beatings.
It could be worse.

Everything will be alright, okay? I know you're hurting, Moon. I feel it. Don't give up.

Thank you.

I take a deep breath and get up from the toilet. Yes, I do have a headache, everything spins and I feel sick, but it could be worse. Everything will be alright.
I unlock the door and walk over to the sink. I splash some water in my face, carefully rubbing off the blood. Then, I take a tissue, patting my stomach with it.
Once I'm all clean, I walk out of the toilet like nothing happened, on my way to math class.

See, here's the thing. Most people hate classes. I don't necessarily mind.
Don't get me wrong, I don't like it. But, if you compare classes to the beatings, it's not that bad. Even though I don't pay attention at all –I'm always daydreaming or doodling in my notebooks– it could be worse. I still don't get bad grades. How? I have no idea. I'm smart, I guess. I never really think about it. My mom doesn't notice it, either. She doesn't know what happens at school. And the teachers? They're probably too busy dealing with their midlife crisis and alcohol problems to actually pay attention to how smart their students are.
I'm lucky that Joel isn't in my year. Yes, he is older, and he does feel better about himself because of that, but I rather have this than him bullying me in class as well.
I open the door, sighing. I walk over to my seat, as unnoticeable as possible. I never talk. I don't even think people know I'm in their class. They probably don't even know my name. I'm lucky that the teachers don't ask me a lot, they probably barely know I exist either. Not that I care, I like being invisible. I wish I could be invisible forever.