broken - phan

four

Dan's POV (there is a lot of dialogue in this one, sorry)

"Come in," I say.

The mysterious boy must have noticed my surprise, I could tell he was confused. I was surprised that I even wanted to speak to him.

One part of my brain was telling me to close the door right now and never look back, but the other part was telling me to talk to this boy till I couldn't form words anymore.

"I can't walk through you, you know."

I moved out of the doorway, embarrassed.

"So you wanted to know about the gang?" I asked, staring at the boy as he looked around my dorm, finally taking a seat on my bed.

He motioned for me to come sit so I did.

"Yes, everything you know." He said.
I scooted a bit closer. "First tell me your name."
"Phil. Phil Lester" I could feel his eyes on me as I stared down at my lap.

There was an unbearable awkward silence. I sat up and walked to the other side of the room.

"You realize that if I start telling you this we're gonna miss our 8 a.m, right?"

For me, talking to someone new is like walking on eggshells with nails on the bottom of your shoes and you're trying not to crack them.

I was afraid that I already messed things up as he got up off the bed and started walking towards the door. He turns around.

"Hey, if you don't want to tell me, that's okay." He gestured towards the door. "I'll just find someone else."

I didn't say anything.

"Sorry for bothering you." He says as he opens the door.

"The person who started the gang's name is Monica Howell. Formerly known to the gang as Moni."

Phil turned around, now interested in what I have to say.

"She is- was- a mother of two sons. Her husband was an abusive ass, so she killed him."

He walked closer to me and then sat back down on the bed.

"One of the sons witnessed the murder." I continued, voice cracking on murder. "She created the gang to protect herself and make sure she didn't get arrested."

"What?" He questioned. "Why didn't the son turn her in?"
"He was scared," I replied.

"Everyone in that gang has been abused in one way or another. All of their abusers are dead. They killed them. Any police reports of abuse they will find. They then kill the person being accused, guilty or not."

I paused, searching for some hint in his eyes that he wanted me to continue. That's when I noticed it. His eyes. They are a deep blue and reminded me of the ocean on a cloud free day. I realized that I was staring. And suddenly he was staring into my eyes, too. It was like that for a few more seconds till I broke the silence by clearing my throat and averting my gaze back down to my lap.

"She left the gang to have a better life with her sons. But when they got the news that she was leaving, they acted out. They killed one of her sons. He was only 15." I could feel tears welding in my eyes.