Burnt to Ashes (Phan)

Chapter 2

~Dan~

My house wasn't the best, but it was the only thing we could afford. It was one story painted in a fading shade of blue. It leaked when it rained making the floors damp, the front door was always getting stuck on the uneven concrete in front of it, and I hadn't seen a dishwasher in years. The house was just another thing that added onto my life. I'm not complaining about having a roof over my head, but there are always problems that need to be fixed. The constant upkeep was killing me because no matter what it was that broke my mom wanted it fixed the moment it did. I didn't even have time to do my homework let alone fix something that I didn't know how to.

I yanked the front door open and stepped inside calling out as I did. I set my backpack by the door and made my way into the small living room. My mom was sitting on our worn couch reading through the newspaper.

"Hey mom" I said.

She sighed and put the paper down on the small coffee table we had.

"Hi Dan" She replied her brown eyes hitting mine.

"Any luck today?" I asked.

My mom lost her job as a waitress a few weeks ago because she was constantly late to her shifts. When her boss tried to talk to her about it she went off at him. At least that's what i'de been told.

"No. There's never any luck. Why would today be any different? Use your fucking brain, if I had a job I wouldn't be sitting here." She said.

"O-oh i'm sorry." I said dropping my eyes to the ground.

"Oh! No baby I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry im just really stressed right now." She apologized standing up to wrap me in a hug.

It felt cold in her embrace, she hardly ever hugged me. My mom and I had never been on the best terms. When I was young they discovered I was different than other kids. I guess it was hard for them to deal with and my dad eventually left us. My mom told me it wasn't my fault, but I know it is. Everything is always my fault.

My mom pulled away and sat back down on the couch I assumed to look for more job openings.

"I'm gonna go do homework." I told her as I made my way to my room.

Homework, chores, sleep, school. My life was just a continuous cycle. Every day was the same and I felt like I could never break out of it. Thats why it didn't surprise me when I woke up facedown in a textbook to my alarm blaring.

I groggily got dressed throwing on random articles of black clothing before straightening my hair. Whenever I woke up or took a shower it was just a mess of curls and I absolutely hated it. To me it was just one of my flaws, but one that anyone could see and comment on.

When I came out of my room my mom was already gone. I hoped it was an interview, but knowing her history it was probably another fling with her ex.

I made sure I had everything, closed and locked my door, then made sure I had everything again because my anxiety was eating at me.

The walk to school felt longer than usual. I'm not sure if it was because I zoned out for most of it or the fact that i'de had a few pretty good days and that usually meant a bad one was coming. Either way I made it to school on time.

Walking in a perfectly styled head of black hair caught my eye. He was standing with a group of his friends talking. Maybe he always stood there and I just never noticed, but now that he had talked to me and not been revolted I felt a small spark in my chest. A little bit of hope that maybe maybe we'd talk again.

I let myself relish in that hope until I walked past him and then preceded to crushed it. I leaned long ago that if you get your expectations up people will only disappoint you.

Surprisingly I made it to class not only on time, but with no incidents, but the thing about anxiety is that its not always terrible. Some days are good and some days all you can do is lay in bed hoping for death. I hoped it was the former and I was just being paranoid right now, but usually someone would pick on me in the morning. It was ok because it was consistent. If I expected it, I could deal with it, but when they didn't show up. I couldn't help but think they were planning something.

My classes were boring like they always were, but I paid attention in them and when the bell rang for lunch I was one of the first people out of there.

I usually ate in the cafeteria. I would rather eat in the library or even one of the empty classes, but I had been caught one too many times and got sent to guidance. I couldn't risk a phone call home and promised that I would eat in the cafeteria like "normal" kids. Only today I didn't make it anywhere close to the cafeteria. I was two steps out the classroom door and none other than Nathan, the pretentious asshole who feels the need to inflict pain, slung his arm around me.

Nathan and I have been going to the same school since grade 6. I'm not sure when he started harassing me. It was slow at first, a few pushes every once in a while that eventually escalated to him doing things that i've tried so hard to block from my memory. There was no previous friendship that led to a fight, no sport rivalry, there was nothing that led to him hating me. Simply put he hates me because he sensed I was different before I realized it myself.

"Hey buddy haven't seen you in a while." He said running his fingers though his blonde hair. 

His muscular arms gripped me a little tighter as he started to lead me away from the crowded halls. Maybe I should have called out for help, but what good would that have done? Not a single person in this hell likes me, they certainly wouldn't do me any favors. Besides, any one who stands up to Nathan will eventually fall to him. Thats just how things were here.

I believe that you have to do things yourself to get anything in life, and yet I couldn't even run away from his grip. Call it fear of the bullying getting worse, maybe even hope that he'll give up if I let it happen, but the truth was that I'm scared of myself. In a world like this people who are different don't survive, and I'm terrified of breaking.