Love Is But A Word

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So a very very long time ago I asked my frind Kira if I could write her a Phanfiction. Long story short, here it is.

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I lined it up. The cool, sharp metal. I was ready to do it. I had written the note; It contained all my good-byes, all my apoligies, and most of all the special note for Phil. The part of the note in which I scribbled all my feelings for phil onto the pale blue lined paper. I hope he understands.

I began to apply intense amounts of pressure ont the cold metal I had pressed to my pale, bony wrist. I was about to slide it up the length of my fore arm when I heard the rattling of keys and the slam of the front door.

"Honey I'm home!" Phil joked in a sickly sweet voice, announcing his presence into the situation. My mind raced. I was scrambling, attempting to peel my way from this situation. Phil cant know what I almost did. The note. That note of everything I feel. I could imagine it now, Phil opening the note sitting on the counter, reading how sorry I am that I couldnt continue living, how much I wished for him to understand, but that shaky writing closer to the bottom of the page. Phil would read it and think I was gone. He would be so happy to no longer be bothered with me as a huge burdan on his life.

"Dan where are you? I saw your car in the drive." I heard phil say. He sounded worried but that could just be me wanting him to care. Craving his emotions.  I knew there was no way out of this. I pulled down my sleeves covering the rather deep incision that was made and raced out of the bathroom. The first thing I did was go to the kitchen and remove the note from the table.

"Oh Dan there you are! I was looking for you but I couldn't- Whats that?" Phil stopped himself mid sentence motioning his hand toward the neatly folded paper in my hand.

"Just a shopping list Phil. I have to go get a few things later."  I stated quickly taking the folded paper and ever so quickly shoving it into the pocket of my old sweat shirt.

"Oh, okay Dan, well you can go back to being you and I will just be playing the wii if you need me." Once again, phil sounded   I must really be wanting him to care.

I walked with a stagger back to my room. I could see the blood starting to drip from the tip of my sweater sleeve so I removed it from my body, leaving my scarred hips poking out from the band of my boxers. Taking a large risk, I sprinted down the hall to the bathroom closing the door behind me. I slid my back down the door and let out a few silent sobs.

Over and over again I muttered incoherent words about not being good enough for Phil. Im just short an fat. He will never love me the way I love him.

After several minutes of allowing the tears to stream down my pale face, I decided I should shower to cleanse the now bleeding wound. I turned on the faucet in the shower allowing it to warm to an almost scalding temperature before stripping from my sweatpants and boxers before climbing into the shower and closing the glass door behind me.

The water hitting my body caused a burning sensation to erupt on the suface of my skin. The pain seemed to sink into my skin, down to my bones, until my body seemed to ignore the pain all together. Once again, I was numb to the world. All I craved was feeling, emotion, or something. Anything but this hell I was going through. I sat on the dark marble floor of the shower and once again thought.

I thought about anything and everything to get my mind away from Phil.

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⏰ Last updated: Aug 11, 2014 ⏰

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