Selfish Souls (Phan)

Something : 10

Dan's POV:

He hasn't run away yet, that's a good sign, but as he talks I can see the frustration growing in him. "Dan you need to start protecting yourself, you can do that without hurting others. I'm not going to let you get beat to death just because you refuse to use this tool that you've been given. You need to start thinking about yourself more," he says. "No one cares about me anyways, why injury someone else to protect something that doesn't make a difference," I say. "You're not a 'something' you're a person with a life, and you deserve to live based on that fact alone. I care, Dan. I care, and sure other people do too," he says. I nod, but I don't know if I completely believe him

:::

We stay at the park for a little longer. Phil is asking questions and me doing my best to answer them, although it's difficult since I know next to nothing about any of this. The walk back home is calming, and I feel better not having to hide this from him anymore. I've only met him a little while ago, but I trust him more than anyone else currently in my life. Not that he has much competition.

We slowly walk up to my house. "I'll see you tomorrow," I say. "I better, or I'm coming over and dragging your ass to school," he says smirking. "Yeah,  whatever," I say. We wave goodbye, and I shut the door behind me.

I'm about to go up to my room when I hear something crash in the kitchen. I freeze where I am. I use my 'vision' to look at the kitchen. There's something in there that looks human. Crap, what do I do? I left my phone in the kitchen before we left. I sneak back down the stairs and peek around the corner. Someone is standing in the kitchen; their back turned to me. Based on the body build and structure it's a guy and based on the fact that he's going through the pantry where my secret safe is, I don't think he's here to talk. I slink in and grab a knife from the cutting block quickly. He doesn't hear me. Once I'm closer, I see there's a pistol tucked in the waistband of his jeans. I eye my phone that's on the counter next to him. Karma hates me.

I slowly unload his gun, pulling his bullets through the magazine, they melt through the holster and drop into my palm. You picked the wrong person to rob. "Hello, sir. How may I help you?" I say, deciding to have some fun with this. On instinct, he spins around and draws his handgun. "You know, I'm pretty sure those are illegal in the UK," I say. "So is breaking into someone's house." "Put your hands up, or I'll shoot," he threatens. I laugh. "What's wrong with you, didn't hear me? Hands up, now." He says. He sounds threatening, but his hands are shaking. What is he doing here if he's afraid of shooting me? "Who are you?" I ask, taking a step towards him. "I said hands up!" He says panicky. "Or what? You'll shoot me? I'd like to see you try." I taunt. "You think you'd be able to dodge it? You literally brought a knife to a gun fight," he says, nodding to the butcher knife in my hand. "Now hands up or I won't hesitate," he barks. I look him in the eyes daringly. "Shoot me," I say, taking another step. "Are you suicidal? Back up now," he says. Maybe, I think as I take another step and him. I see his finger shift on the trigger.

Click.... click, click, click.

"What the?" He says confused. I hold out my full of the bullets that match his gun. "Problem?" I ask smugly. "How did you-" "Mind telling me why you're in my house now?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. He looks like a deer in headlights before bolting off behind me. I mentally tug at the carpet beneath him, and I hear a tumble and crash as he collides with the wood floor and falls on a vase. I turn around and see his jaw cut with prices of porcelain. "Oops," I say. "You're just like your mother. Oh my god, get away from me you freak," he says. And I'm too stunned by what else says to notice when he scrambles off the floor and out of the front door.

You're just like your mother. Does he know my mum? Does he know where she is? What does he mean 'just like'? Was it a coincidence? What was he doing I my house if he was aware of my mum? You freak. Is that what people would think of me? What if I can find my mum? How can I reach him again? Yay, okay, let's go track down the guy who broke into your house because he might know your mum who you haven't seen in 4 years. You're fucking insane. Never claimed not to be, plus what if he has information? And how do you plan on finding him? I don't know I haven't gotten that far. And let's say you do find him, are just going to ask for the answers nicely; hey I know I have telekinesis and all and could crush you like a bug but what we're you talking about earlier when you tried to rob me. Shut up. Really? You just said that, didn't you? God, you're an idiot. You can't tell yourself to shut up. Just did.

Even as I have a mental argument about what to do next one phrase rings through my head loud as church bells;

you're just like your mother.