Open Eyes (Phan)

Twelve

Phil

I didn't sleep that night.

I spent the dark, silent hours staring at the ceiling. My mind was filled with everything and nothing at the same time. I kept seeing Dan's arm. The cuts. The bruises. My mind was still trying to wrap itself around what I had seen.

It all made sense now. It explained why he always seemed so distance and so anxious. It explained why he was quiet most of the time. But while it answered a lot of the questions I had, it raised many more.

Scenarios blazed through my mind. Visions of the beautiful boy broken and bleeding. My heart wrenched. Who did this to him? Who hurt him so badly he slashed his own wrists? Who hurt him so badly that multicolored bruises splattered his arm?  Tears welled in my eyes at the thought of him hurting himself. At the thought of what may have caused those bruises.

I started crying for the fourth time since Dan had run away.

But while he cut, who or what were the bruises from? Did Dan do that? Or was it from someone else?

Why would someone do that to him? True he didn't talk much, but Dan was kind and sweet. He was the most beautiful boy I had ever seen. If someone was hurting him... My mind was spinning.

I wanted to help. But I had no idea how. Not one clue. I didn't know where to start, but I had to do something. That was the only thing I was sure about.

It went on like this for the rest of the night, with questions racing in and out of my mind at a million miles an hour. Thoughts buzzed around my brain and tears trickled down my cheeks as I pictured Dan in that much pain.

And when the first light of the sun began poking over the horizon, washing the land in an orange glow, I was still staring at my ceiling. My tears had dried and my eye lids were heavy. I hadn't slept a wink.

My head throbbed as I lifted my body into a sitting position. My limps were stiff and weary. I let out a sigh of exhaustion.

I had work today, though I wasn't really feeling up to it. I didn't want to go sort books and help mundane people when Dan was struggling. I spent five minutes fighting with my goody two shoes nature, but finally decided I'd play hooky today.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and placed my feet on the floor. The grey carpet was soft beneath my soles and toes. I lifted myself off the bed and stood. My legs felt weak, like they would betray me at any moment and send me careening towards the floor. I slipped my glasses around my eyes.  I walked across the room to the closet. It took me a few minutes of fumbling to get my clothes off and new ones on.

The thought of food made my stomach queasy, so I didn't stop for breakfast when I passed my tiny kitchen on my way out of my flat. I traveled down three flights of stairs, then out into the brisk morning air. My breath fogged in front of my face when I exhaled.

By the time I made it to the corner, the fork in the road, the last place I saw Dan, I had decided what I was going to do today.

Instead of turning to go down the usual street with the bookstore and coffee shop, I kept going straight. I knew this town better than I knew the back of my own hand. So walking to the only high school in the area wasn't at all hard.

I shoved my hands in my hoodie pocket when my fingers became numb with cold. My short black fringe blew across my forehead in the wrong direction in the breeze. I walked quickly passed buildings and parks and little shops. I trudged along the sidewalk for ten minutes before the small school came into view.

The brick building was two stories high, and the campus took up about twenty acres of land. Some of the walls were made entirely of windows. The main doors were on the west side of the structure.

A quick glance at my phone revealed thin white letters reading 7:28. Judging by the number of students streaming toward the various doors around the school, I guessed that classes started at 7:30. I didn't see Dan anywhere in the crowd.

I stood where I could see the door, on a grassy hill just off campus. To anyone else, I probably looked like a creep. And my purpose for being here certainly sounded and seemed creepy. I was watching the doors of a school for a young boy. Not creepy at all.

Honestly, I'm not sure why I was waiting for him. I didn't know what I would do when I saw him. Maybe I would talk to him. Maybe I wouldn't.  Maybe I would follow him, or maybe I would just wait for him to go into the building, then leave. I didn't know. I guessed I'd just wait until he got here.

Even after the blaring bell passed, Dan didn't show. And after ten minutes of sitting in the grass waiting, I was beginning to get worried.

Where was he? He might have been sick. That was always a possibility. But I had just seen him yesterday, and he hadn't seemed sick. I inhaled deeply, trying to calm my overactive nerves.

I was beginning to think that Dan wasn't going to show. The outside of the campus was almost empty, save for the parking lot full of cars and a few straggling students rushing to get to class. Birds were chirping, and the wind blew, but it was otherwise quiet. Where was Dan?

And then I saw him. Trudging down the sidewalk, head down, feet dragging. He didn't have a backpack. Didn't he have notebooks and folders and schools stuff that he needed? I remembered Dan saying that he didn't like school that much. So maybe he didn't actually do anything in class. It's possible he didn't even go to class. Honestly the thought of Dan skipping class didn't surprise me.

I watched as Dan turned the corner and walked onto the campus. He kept his eyes on the ground the entire way to the door. He had his hands shoved deep in the pocket of his black hoodie.

I waited for him to get near the main doors before I slowly began descending the hill. I kept my footsteps silent as I got closer to him. I had to get inside before the door closed behind him. Dan didn't even lift his head as he pulled the door open and slipped inside. I managed to grab the handle before the door shut completely, and followed him inside the building.