It's Actually Kind of Funny(Phan)

It's Actually Kind of Funny- Chapter 1

A/N:

Okay, so I'm REALLY new at all of this and have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. Seriously help me. I need a tutor in all of this. I don't even know how to do a proper author's note. Oh well... deal with it <.< >.>. Anyways, this is my first fan fiction, ever. I'm scared.. but it's based on Phan. It has some KicktheStickz, even a little bit of KicktheFire.. Don’t eat me ;_;. So, this whole story is pretty much strongly based on the book It’s Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini.

I also know pretty much nothing about England, let alone the entire UK since I’m American, so I’m pretty much winging everything. Also, sorry if Dan, Phil, Chris, PJ, and everyone else don’t really seem to act like themselves in the story, I’m terrible at writing :c. But, here goes nothing! Oh, and don’t kill me for all of my terrible grammar and spelling mistakes, and my terrible use of vocabulary. Now, let me stop rambling and actually start the story..

*Dan’s POV*
It’s actually kind of funny; when you want to kill yourself, at least it is to me. Everything just seems to crumble around you. Everything you touch, grab, hold; anything your hands make contact with, it all just seems to seep through them, kind of like sand.

I remember when I used to go to the beach with my parents, back when I was little, back when I was happy. I recall having the warm sand fall through my hands as I made crappy sand castles near the water.

 I don’t do that anymore, I barely spend any family time with my parents, they don’t have time for that. Mum’s always with a client, selling them beauty products that in all honesty make women look like shit, making them look almost too perfect. Dad’s always busy with something at work, he writes for the weekly post, reporting everything that never happens in this boring land. Either way, it doesn’t really matter what they do, they make money for the three of us, even if that means giving up family time.  Not that they don’t care for me or anything, they do, my mum even cares for me a little bit too much sometimes.

Mum makes me food, helps me with homework –even though I rarely do it, but that’s another subject-, and cares for me when she knows I’m doing ‘bad’.

Both of my parents know about my depression, they were with me when I realized I had it. We were at this fancy restaurant, actually spending some time together, and were discussing my life at school –which I will also explain later-. Then this feeling in my stomach just hit me, I was going to vomit. Just thinking about all the work -which I could’ve done the day before but instead spent the whole day lying in bed staring at the ceiling- piled up for me to do. I didn’t yet know why I had those days where I felt like everything was destroyed and I’d just lie in my bed, feeling like I was dead.  I know now that it’s just a symptom of my depression.

I ran to the bathroom, jolted into a stall, locked the door behind me, leant over the toilet, and just let out all of the food that was built up inside me. Thank God that there was nobody else was in the bathroom; I wouldn’t have to deal with anyone pestering me about whether I was okay or not. I let out all the food and that’s when the little man appeared in my stomach. The one that now decides whether I eat and hold down the food or just vomit.

I walked back calmly to my parents and sat down, observing all of their shocked faces at my sudden jolt to the bathroom. “Honey, are you okay?” my mum questioned me with a concerned tone to her voice. “Um- I. I- I think I have, well you know, um,” I stuttered unable to sum up the words that were being blocked out by all of the other thoughts built in my head. “Spit it out son, what’s wrong?” dad sternly stated with a little bit of worry in his voice, making me understand he cared about me. I took a deep breath in, “I think I have depression.” My parents immediately paid for our food and we were on our way home to talk about what I was feeling.

So, we talked, it wasn’t an interesting talk, and my parents decided to sign me up for therapy. And, so my journey of visiting dozens of different psychiatrists began. I pretty much had a different one every month because my parents thought I wasn’t happy with any of them, but I liked them all. I guess you just never look happy or satisfied when you’re depressed.

--

“Yo, dude, you cool?” my best friend Chris asked.

I snapped out of my trance of thought, puzzled at my surroundings. A room full of smoke from pot, my best friend looking at me concerned but obviously high from the pot. My other friends, mainly Chris’s friends, Alex and Carrie staring at me as well. Chris’s boyfriend, PJ, kicking me with his foot to snap me out of my trance. “Oh yeah, I’m fine,” I quickly said trying to hide my confusion.

See my group of friends aren’t the best, but I can’t blame them, they’re all really advanced in school, no wonder why they’re so conceited about everything they do. Except PJ, he’s the only exception, even if he’s dating my best friend, I can’t help from developing feelings for him.

Well that was the first part, out of I don’t know how many. It was really fun to write :D Sorry, I kind of ended it so harshly. I have to watch Dan and Phil’s radio show.. and I’m too lazy to finish this later so I guess I’ll continue another day.

I hope you liked the first chapter, all though it was really short, I promise to make the chapters longer and to put in much more character development. I was just trying to start out the story in this chapter.
Anyways, love to all of you <3
Um.. bye?