Open Eyes (Phan)

Seventeen

Phil

I couldn't sleep again. I spent a few hours tossing and turning. The sheets were twisted beyond repair at this point. Ever since I'd helped out Dan, he was the only thing on my mind. I'd shown up for a late shift at the bookstore after he'd left. My anxiety had been so bad that Chris ended up sending me home. My eyelids were heavy and I was tired, but despite my best efforts, I couldn't sleep.

After a few hours, I gave up and threw the duvet to the side. I threw on a pair of skinny jeans and left my tiny flat.

I walked at a brisk pace through the bitter cold. I decided to head to the little park by the bookstore. Maybe a walk and some time sitting on a swing would help to clear my head. So to the park I went. The streets were practically deserted as I walked along the pavement. Street lamps bathed the street in yellow splotches, while the moon and stars provided light from far overhead.

And when I at last made it to the tiny playground between the squat buildings, I sat down on the swings, which were located towards the back of the lot, not close to any street light.

Dan. Why was I so invested in Dan? Why did my thoughts always come back to the boy with chestnut hair and chocolate eyes? Maybe it was because I was so worried about him. It was clear enough that what I had seen wasn't the first beating he'd received. Maybe it was because I was so freaking attracted to him it scared me. And not just to his gold flecked hair and his mocha eyes. But to the dimples he had on the rare occasion he cracked a smile. To the way he shoved his pale hands into his pockets so I couldn't see them trembling. To the long conversations we had over text about anything and everything. I was infatuated with the way he lit up when he talked about a passion of his, and with the blush that crept over his lightly freckled face when he was embarrassed. I was completely and utterly smitten with this boy. A boy I hadn't known for very long; a boy that obviously had issues.

But for the love of God I wanted to help him. Hell, I wanted to do so much more than help him. I wanted to hold him tight and whisper soothingly into his ear. I yearned so desperately to see him smile, to hear him laugh. I wanted him to be happy.

I was ripped from my thoughts by the sound of scuffling footsteps. I peered through the darkness.

It was Dan.

He was trudging past. His head was down. He didn't seem to be paying attention to his surroundings. I wanted to wave, to shout his name. But he was gone before I could do so much as open my mouth.

I thought about following him, like I did before. But there was a good chance he'd find that creepy.

But he looked worse than normal. It seemed as if something in him and broken since I'd seen him. The urge to hold him and comfort him flooded my limbs again.

I ended up leaving the park to catch up with him. I couldn't see him, but I was guessing he'd just continued down the road. I wondered where he was going.

I kept walking.

Twenty steps later.

Like a speeding train.

It hit me.

I knew where he was going.

I took off at a sprint. My feet pounded against the ground as my heart thundered in my chest. Terror coursed through my veins.

Please let me get there in time. I silently begged to whatever holy being was listening. Tears welled in my eyes at the thought of being too late. I pushed my legs to go faster.

And the sight that greeted me when the bridge came into view made me want to vomit.

It was Dan. He was standing up on the edge of the bridge. With one foot sticking out.

"Dan!" I called desperately. "Stop! Dan, wait!"

His head swiveled around. His eyes went wide at the sight of me running up to him. I stopped about a meter away, panting.

"Dan, please." My voice shook. "Please get down." He stared at me in utter disbelief.

"P-Phil?" As if he couldn't believe it was me. I nodded frantically.

"Yes! It's me! Can you get down so we can talk?"

He turned his head back to the gorge. His gaze fell to the river below. I couldn't read his face. God only knew what was swirling around in his head. I waited for several agonizing moments for him to say or do anything. Those few moments were the slowest, and most painful I'd ever experienced.

But he at last turned back toward me.

And he stepped down.

_____________________________________________

I know it's short. But I feel like it works better if I end this chapter here.

So school started. Yay (Note the obvious sarcasm)

I'm a junior this year. For Europeans, I'm not sure what year that is. It's the second to last year of high school.

It's only the second day and I'm already so exhausted and I just want to be done.