Welcome Home (Phan)

Seven

Phil's POV

The song in the little box up ^^^ there is pretty fitting with this whole book really (so far anyways). It's called Hello, I'm in Delaware (which isn't where Dan is, I know but that's beside the point) by City and Colour and I just think most of the lyrics fit nicely and I really like the song so you can listen to it if you so desire.

T/W: Bullying, verbal abuse (done by bullies).

As my alarm blared it's default , droning sound, I groaned loudly. Why do we have to go to school five days a week? I think we'd get through just fine with only a couple days. Maybe every other day? Maybe if the school system actually taught us essential knowledge to get us through our life after schooling, people would actually want to come to school a tad more (hint hint). Either way, that's not the way things are so i guess I'm stuck in this never ending cycle. Find a way to make it through the school day without completely breaking down and failing as a human being, come home, think too much and worry about...about stuff and then I'll try and fall asleep but that hardly ever happens anymore. My waist feels so cold. I feel such a sense of vulnerability it drives me insane. It's too hard to experience the joys of sleep and I really wish it wasn't. 

As I was bounding around my room trying to pull my faded skinny jeans up to cover my pale legs, the ever-growing pile of pointless work that should've been completed weeks ago. I've come to the conclusion that maybe if I leave there long enough and just ignore it's existence that it will just somehow...disappear. Of course, logic has proven this way of thinking impossible.

I walked over to my wall length mirror in the far corner of my room and looked my reflection up and down. Sighing loudly, I adjusted my freshly straightened fringe. "How the hell did I get here?" I was the living definition of exhausted. I felt an unanticipated urge to curl my fingers inwards to form a bony fist and thrust it through the mirror, shattering what I saw across my shag carpet. Infuriated due to my current state, I swung my bag over right shoulder, messily tied my shoelaces and stomped my way out of my house, silently hoping today would be a mediocre day.

Time Skip to being at school, figured a walk isn't too interesting right now.

"Oi! Asshole!" Shit, are you serious right now? I quickened my steps, I really didn't want any of this right now. I've been out of Josh's (I feel like Alfie's had a bit of a rough run so I'll just use Josh. Associate it with whom ever you like) line of fire for almost a week. Why can't it stay that way? "I'm talking to you!" As soon as the last sound rolled off his tongue, he gripped the back of my shirt. Considering his strength, he whipped me around with ease. Fear coursed through my body and every intake of oxygen became more and more strenuous. Jesus Christ. Okay, Phil, you'll be fine. Just close your eyes. It'll be over soon. It's nothing you haven't been through before. "You know, it's a bit rude, not talking to someone? Especially when they call out to you first." He spat. I braced myself, waiting for one of his bodily weapons to make contact with my frail figure. Would it be my face first this time? Maybe my ribs? Stomach? Keeping my eyes closed tightly, I felt my cold sweat run down the length of my back. I began to wonder what was taking my tormentor so long to do his damage. I still felt his death hold on the collar of my flannel so he hadn't dropped me and darted away. I didn't want to wait anymore, I had classes to get to. I would need to make a stop at one of bathrooms that littered the halls too. I knew it would be stupid, I knew that. All the common sense I had left was screaming at me to leave it be. But I couldn't. I allowed two words to stumble out of my mouth, "Hurry up." It turned out to be only a mere whisper but there was hardly any space between Josh and I. Point is, he could easily hear my plea. 

"What was that?" He prodded. Somehow, I opened my eyes and stared directly into his. They were a dull brown, they weren't worth looking into. They were the kind of eyes that people thought they possessed, the boring kind. Still challenging his gaze, I mustered enough vocal strength to repeat those two words, "Hurry. Up." 

"The faggot talks." Snickering he continued, "As you wish." He bowed, mocking my statement. He raised his tanned fist and I winced. Here we go. Welcome back.