Forget What We Saw

I'm not Okay

A/N: If abuse is triggering to you, I'd advice to either skip this part or stop reading, as it will be a big part throughout the story. Also, I'm sure Howell's parents are lovely people, this is just a story.

Dan's P.O.V

I look at him for one last second before I turn around to run again. Why is he chasing me? Does he want to hurt me that badly? Come on, Howell. What if he's nice? Not everyone wants to hurt you. Then the voices come back Yes they do, Dan. Keep running, I hear in the back of my mind. I keep running. What is wrong with this guy? Won't he give up? I turn my head as I run. He slows down. Finally. Then I run smack into a thorn bush. Stupid Howell, You Idiot, Can't you do anything right? my mind says. My body is covered in thorns, but that doesn't matter right now. What matters is that this kid is getting closer. I go from angry to fearful. "He's gonna beat you, idiot," He gets closer. I ignore the terrible pain coming from the thorns as I try to hold back tears. Now he's standing right in front of me. I brace myself.

"Are you okay?" he says.
"What?" I stutter. I grasp his hand without thinking and pull myself off.
"Please don't start running again. I want to help you," he says.
I blink.

I take my first good look at him. He has jet black hair and stunning blue eyes. Is this the guy that stood up for me earlier?

"Hi, I'm Phil. You're Dan right," says Phil.
 Come on Dan, say something. You could make a... friend.
"Uh...yeah, I'm Dan," I say. Great. That's the best thing I could think of.
Idiot I hear in my mind.
"So, do you need some help? You kinda went face-first into a thorn bush," Phil says.

There was only one thing I could think of anything to say. 

"You're not gonna hurt me?" I ask quietly.
"What?" he says with surprise. "No, silly of course not," he says. "Trust me, I couldn't hurt a fly," he says smiling.
"uh...thanks, I'm good with the help though. I need to go home," I say.

 I completely forgot. I look at my watch. Four?! Oh no, dad's gonna kill me. Literally.

"I really gotta go, sorry!" I say as I start to walk away.
"Wait!" Phil says, grabbing my wrist. It hurts because I have not only thorns there, but scars. "Sorry, but do you have a phone?" he asks.
"Uh, yeah," I say, freeing myself from his grip.
"Let me put my number in your phone, so I can talk to you," he says taking out his phone, which had a colorful case.
"Um, okay," I say. He really wants to talk to me! I can't help but start to feel excited. I could have a real friend! Then my mind goes.
"He's going to betray you,"
"He thinks your weird,"
"Forget it, he'll never like you," but for the first time in a while, I ignore the voices.
"No," I think.

This is my chance. A real friend to talk to. I take out my phone with its black case and hand it to him. He hands his phone to me

"And there we go!" says Phil.

I enter my name as "Dan" and put in my number. I hand his phone back to him. I look at his phone. He entered his name as "Philly" with a lion emoji. Creative.

"Well, can I at least walk home with you?" says Phil. I blush slightly.
"Um, no sorry. My dad will kill me if he sees me walking home with someone, much less a guy. I'm already late anyway," I say, turning around.
"Oh, okay then. See you around!" he says cheerfully and waves.

Then he starts to walk away. How can somebody be so happy? I don't understand. I begin to walk home, and the thorns start to get to me. Blood was all over my body. Good thing the neighbors wouldn't question it, I normally walk home beat up especially from my other school. I make it to my house despite the pain. "I can't go in through the front door, my dad will pound me," I think to myself. So I decide to climb up through my window. I always leave it open in case something like this happens. It was extremely painful to climb with thorns all over me, but somehow I managed to do it and climbed into my window onto my floor. I fight back tears and try to take out as many thorns as possible. A half-hour later I give up and throw away the gross pile of thorns covered with my blood. I take a warm shower, and it helps a little. I decide to message Phil.

D: Hi, thanks for helping me earlier. I owe you one.

I wait for a response. One minute. Two minutes. Three. What if he doesn't answer. I told you. He doesn't like you. He won't answer. my mind goes. Maybe he's just busy. Just before I put my phone down, I hear a message pop up.

P: Hi! no problem.
D: So...

Great job Dan. Wonderful text. Now he thinks you're bored.

D: Do you have Skype?

I doubt he'll want to, but maybe...

P: Oh yeah. I don't use it a lot though.
D: Oh...maybe we could Skype some time?
P: Sure, why not right now?

I stagger back. Does he want to see my ugly face? Or is he just being nice? I don't really care, either way, talking in person was better than texting. But do I look like a slob right now? Did my hair curl?

D: Yeah sure! My Skype name is danisnotonfire.
P: cool, mine is AmazingPhil.
D: Creative.
P: Hey!
D: Sorry, Kidding.
P: HaHa, it's alright. I know.
P: I'll Skype you.

I grab my laptop and open it. I sit there waiting for a call. Sure enough, I hear the ringing of a call. I eagerly pick it up. "Am I acting too desperate?" I wonder. Then Phil's face pops up.
"Hi!" he says cheerfully.
"Hi," I say back. "Your room is extremely colorful," I say. Great Dan, good conversation starter.
"I know, I like it because it reflects my personality," he says.
"It sure does," I say.
"What?" says Phil, a little surprised.

Good going, Howell. You've messed it up already. I go bright red.
"Uh, nothing," I stutter.
"So, how do you feel?" he asks.
"Oh, I'm alright. I got the majority of the thorns out and took a shower," I say.
"Alright, good, I was worried," says Phil.

Worried? About me? Nobody ever seems to worry about me. It feels kinda nice to be cared about by someone. Then I hear a third voice enters the chat.
"Phil! Dinner is ready!" I hear the voice say.
"Oh, that's my dad. He's quite nice when you get to know him," He says. 

I get nervous, I don't want the conversation to end yet. Phil seems to notice the sad and worried look on my face.
"Uh, give me a minute or two!" he yells back. I sigh in relief. "Or ten..." He adds, but not loud enough for his dad to hear. I snicker.
"Thanks," I say. "It's nothing really. My dad won't care if I'm late for dinner. He's kinda strict but kind," says Phil.
"I wish I could say I'm the same about my parents," Am I oversharing? Oh, well, too late I guess.
"Oh, I'm sorry," says Phil.
"No no, it's alright. They aren't the nicest bunches of people. It's fine, really," I say.
"Okay, whatever you say. We talk and talk for a while. The conversation just comes out natural.

"Man, I'm getting hungry," says Phil. I noticed that I was too. But I knew tonight I wouldn't get dinner. Then I hear someone storming up to my room.
"Daniel James Howell!" I hear. "Oh no, my dad," I say.
"I gotta go," I say.
"wait--" I hear Phil as I end the call and close my computer.
My dad slams the door open. "You're in big trouble," he says. I wince and brace myself.

I feel my dad's hands punching me. His feet kicking me.
"This is for being late!" He shouts as he kicks me.
"I'm sorry," I squeak.
"I hate you," He says.
"I know," I whisper.

I feel like it goes on forever. Combined with the thorn cuts, I was in the most pain of my life. Blood was everywhere. I couldn't feel my face. I began to cry. At least it was over now. I roll onto my side, laying on the floor crying. "Why me?" I ask myself. Then my mind goes; "Because you're worthless," "Nobody needs you," I try not to listen. Phil cares. I keep crying, lay on the floor, trying to remain awake.