City Of The Damned - Phan (NO LONGER CANCELLED!! RISEN FROM THE GRAVE!! BACK FROM A LONG TRIP TO PHANFIC HELL!! ALL HAIL ELLA!!!)

intro

He was walking home from school the same way he always had. One foot infront of the other on the edge of the kurb, nearly toppling over every time a car zoomed past him.

His chestnut hair whipped around his forehead as he concentrated on nothing, nothing but the path he was walking and the song in his ears.

Oh, therapy, can you please fill the void?

Am I retarded or am I just overjoyed?

Nobody's perfect and I stand accused

For lack of a better word, and that's my best excuse

He reached a road that needed crossing, looking up and pulling one of his earbuds out, Billie-Joe's voice fading so he could hear the traffic a little better. He let that headphone dangle from his blazer pocket while he would cross and resume his routine. But just as he stepped into the road, a deafening fire engine flashed into view. It sped down the long road, passing a billion different cul-de-sac turn offs.

The young boy, Daniel, froze in his spot. One foot in the road, and he prayed it would continue on down the busy, winding road and not turn into his street.

But he knew it would.

He just knew.

To live, and not to breathe

All of a sudden, the boy was running.

Is to die, in tragedy

He flew down the long road, passing neighbours and school friends and local business owners that he would always normally stop and say hi to. But that didn't occur to Dan. Not right then. All he could think about was the sound of his feet lightly hitting the pavement and the song that he thought might never end.

To run, to run away

He couldn't let anything else enter his head: a fleeting thought, telling him that it was his house that was on fire, but he prayed for it not to be true. It couldn't be true.

To find what you believe

He jumped to a stop a few hundred metres up the road, and sprinted down the familiar street that lead to his childhood home.

And I, leave behind

He had to get there fast.

This hurricane of fucking lies

He tripped on his own feet, stumbling as he tried to catch his breath and feeling smoke fill his lungs.

I lost my faith to this

This town that don't exist

He squeezed his eyes shut as he hesitantly stepped around that last corner, the corner that lead to his safe place, the corner that lead to all of the people who were important to him. The only family he had. 

And when he pulled his eyes back open, he could feel nothing. Unless you count him feeling the tears slip down his cheeks, which turned out to be the only tears he would cry for a long time.

So I run, I run away

To the lights of masochist

He ripped the headphones from his ears and threw his phone to the ground. He couldn't hear the song anymore, anyway. He couldn't hear anything. But he didn't need his hearing.

That day, he watched his family burn.

Dan gasped and wrenched himself upward from the still unfamiliar bed. Two months.

It had taken him two whole months to finally relive the horror in the form of a nightmare. He'd been having silly, irrational nightmares since then. But that one was real. That one happened. Dan thought he could still taste the smoke.

Today was the day Dan went back to school. And his nerves were sky high.

He had been inexplicably numb up until this point. No emotions. He did not weep for his parents or his sister. But he did not smile in their honour either. He was just sort of.. there. Since he'd been placed with the increasingly annoying family in Essex, he had not engaged with them at all. The main carer, Monica, bought him food, and that is all of the interaction he made with them. Before this, all they'd done is drag him out to try on new uniform. All he did was stay in his room and watch films all day. Every day. But not for much longer.

The sixteen year old climbed out of bed slowly, depression echoeing into his every single action. He couldn't smile anymore. he couldn't laugh. Not without them.

He gingerly picked up the single photo he'd taken with him. The rest of them were too heartbreaking to keep.

It was a photo of Dan and his younger sister, Lucy. His mother and father were in the background, lifting the small children off of the ground and into the camera's view. Lucy must have been about, say, four? Meaning Dan was six in the photo. He couldn't remember where they were or why they'd taken it, which is probably why Dan brought it. He didn't want to remember the holidays or the parties. He wanted to remember the wonderfully normal life his parents had given him.

He put it back where he picked it up from. He didnt cry. He was too numb to cry.

Instead, he stumbled into the hot shower and prepared himself for a day of utter bullshit. When he was ready to face the world, he straightened his hair and pulled on his brand new bottle green uniform.

He sighed inwardly. Being in foster care sucks dick.

Shitty intro but I'm writing for lack of a better hobby at this moment in time. Maybe this story will go somewhere, but who knows?

Oh, and the title is a line from Jesus of Suburbia. That's the song Dan's listening to. You might be wondering why I chose to center the story around this song, but, honestly, there isn't much of a reason.  I love the song, and in Dan's last YouNow, he said it was his favourite Green Day song. So it seemed like a good idea.

Anyway, hola. I'm Stella. Or Ella. Whichever you prefer. I suppose if I bother committing to this fic, then you'll be seeing a lot more of me here, as I'm not the kind of person to post an update without an author's note.

So let's see if I stick to this one, eh?

Au revoir for now, you lil phan shipping speckled frog you

Stella

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