What Others Don't Know- Phanfic

CHAPTER FOUR

          ^Shawn^
Karen:

Dan's POV:

I went out the schools front doors quickly, not wanting anyone to stop me. Specifically that Pj guy. He seemed like he would be another bully if I didn't avoid him. As I looked down at my shoes I saw the yellow bump thingy indicating that I'm about to walk into the street. Not that I really cared if I died. More so out of habit, I looked up to see if any cars were coming. All clear. As reached the sidewalk and was off of the school grounds, I noticed something, or someone. It was that guy. Phil? Yeah. Phil. He must live near me or something I guess.

    Well, I was wrong. I had reached my house and noticed the figure I presumed was Phil. His house was directly next to mine. He was standing on the front stoop. I didn't notice this morning, but his house was pretty similar to mine. The color and overall look of it was different, but the structure itself seemed similar. We must be one of those houses that are almost identical to each other.

    I had gotten distracted and lost in my thoughts on my way home though. As I unlocked my door I remembered something: Phil. Not Phil in particular, the fact that I can't read his mind. Why was that!? That had never happened before. I've never heard of such a thing. I was peering out of the corner of my eye at Phil, although I was still unlocking the door, as I thought.

    I noticed the black car in the driveway. Mum was home. I don't think Dad was. She would probably leave for work around 7pm as usual. Dad would get home around 5 and for that good hour or so that they were both in the same house: yelling.

    I went into the kitchen since mum was upstairs getting ready for work even though it was only 3:00 and she had two hours. Do all women take that long to get ready? I don't know. My mind was still buzzing with what happened with Phil.

I walked up to the cabinet that was above the fridge, the one my mum needed a chair to reach and my dad could barely reach it on his tip-toes. Since I'm so damn tall, all I had to do was reach out my arm and I could easily reach the small circular handle of the cherry wood cabinet. I opened up the door and took out a bottle of vodka. Yeah... I drink sometimes. I wouldn't consider myself an alcoholic, but I think I might have an issue. It just... it takes the pain away. I forget about the counting calories. My messed up family. My imperfections. My bullies. My everything. Granted, when the buzz is gone, I feel even more like shit, but at least I'm feeling something, right?

    My parents of course have no idea. So clueless. But then again, that's a good thing, right? They used to care. But after what happened... I spiraled. My anxiety went through the roof. And of course in the passing years I was still sad. I took millions of online tests on bipolar and depression and eating disorders and anxiety. On one test, if you scared a 54 or above, you had severe depression. Guess what I scored? 87. Yeah...

    Thinking of this, I took a long swig from the delicate glass bottle and headed to the back garden. I sat on the cold stoop and just... contemplated. I thought about loads of stuff. Maybe it's a part of depression, maybe it's because I'm so damn obsessed with poetry, but I can just sit and stare for hours and hours just thinking. If I really want to think about stuff, I don't even play music or drink. I can just lay in my bed and stare at something. Clock. Phone. Nightstand. Posters. Hand. Wall. Ceiling. Fan. Anything.

    After who knows how long, I moved onto the grass. Lying down. The glass bottle of poison was beginning to feel slightly chilled due to the cooled night air. I was definitely drunk now. My mum has probably left for work. My dad is probably done with work but out running errands or something like that. Funny. I didn't hear any yelling tonight. Maybe one of them is giving the other the silent treatment.

    I was definitely drunk now. I took another swig of vodka, letting the sweet cold slip all the way down to my empty stomach. I loved that feeling. I liked it even better than putting my feelings into my wrists

    After another time period of forever I got up and headed inside. It was beginning to get quite cold outside and, with me starving myself, I'm typically cold in a warm room, so I was getting pretty cold. As I reached the living room I saw myself in the reflection in the large T.V. atop its stand and looked at each imperfection. I thought to myself saying all the words I thought I was. Just like I had done this morning before school. Once again, I looked down at my shoes and airtight whispered "I know."

    I heard a soft, brisk nock at the door. Perhaps if I wasn't so wasted I would have noticed that I didn't hear any thoughts and would have realized earlier that it was Phil. I opened the door and saw the black haired boy. He appeared to be carrying a plate of brownies. He glanced at me, clearly not realizing I was completely wasted, and looked back down at the brownies again. "Oh, hey Dan. So my mums made these brownies for you. I guess they want you and I to be friends and-" as I took another swig of my bottle he had instinctively glanced up to see what I was doing. Then he noticed how all my weight was being supported on the wooden door frame I was leaning up against and the clear bottle of vodka in my hand. The way my facial expression looked numb and just my body nature in general. "Dan, are you, are you drunk??" I shrugged and took another swig ignoring the burn I felt, appreciating and acknowledging the cold go down. I realized it stung more than it should have. I realized all of them have. That only happens when... was I crying? As in sobbing? "And... where you crying?" The same bits of worry I had seen just a few hours earlier when I was being threatened by that Pj boy where now in his eyes.

I shrugged again. But by doing this I started to fall into my house. Phil grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back up. He grasped my cold wrists and put it around his neck since I could barely walk. He put me onto my couch and took the vodka from me. I heard the noise of water in the sink and guessed he was dumping it out down the drain. My feelings... my numbness... down the drain. I groaned and let out a small sob before I even knew it was coming. I heard the trash can open and the clank as the glass bottle hit the bottom of it. Phil came back in with a glass of water. (I guess he went through my cabinets? Oh well. I didn't care.)

"Dan, where are your parents?" He probably didn't want them to come home and see their clearly upset teenage boy lying on the couch with another strange boy sitting next to him.

"Mums ah' woh-work. Dad is... I don' know." I slurred. I was laid out on the couch and Phil was sitting in the little sliver of space that was left next to me/half laying on the floor.

    "Where's your room?" He asked rushingly. I giggled and smirked at him, a thought forming in my head.

    "Why, Phillip, you aren't planning on taking advantage of me in this state are you?" I slurred teasingly. His face went red with embarrassment and he quickly shook his head, slightly giggling. "It's uhpstairs." He went upstairs and came back about a minute later and put my arm around his neck again, carrying me up the soft carpeted stairs to my room. The blankets were already pulled back and he put me into my bed, closing the grey curtains and pulling the blankets over me.

He ran back downstairs again. I was slightly confused as to why. My questions where answered before I could even ask him when he appeared back in my room again with the glass of water, setting it gently onto my black nightstand.

"So, why were you drinking? And crying?" He sounded friendly, not as in a best-friend-friendly, like a random person who was only asking in an attempt to not be rude. I just simply shrugged. He gave me a quizzical look, as if asking for more.

"Family issues." I just simply left it at that. Phil's quizzical look disappeared. I wish I knew what you were thinking. I thought to myself. I mumbled a "Thank you." And drifted off to sleep. The last thing I saw was Phil wryly smiling at me and walking out, lightly closing the door behind him. Once again, drifting off into my nightmare of the house in the trees.

    A/N: Hey peoples😂so yeah, sorry I went SO LONG without updating after I'd done chapter 2. I hope I kind of made up for it by writing two really long chapters? Chapter 3 was 2066 words (not counting the A/N) and this one is 1569 words (again not counting the A/N)

    I'm going to try and start chapter five right now even though I need this thing called sleep. Well yeah...

    Oh and also I'll be posting a picture of Dan and Phil's house layouts (since they're both the same) it took my like 472846 years to make but yeah. It'll be in the next chapter.