Bring Me Home // Phan

58

Dan's POV of what happened

Dan, are you alright on your own if I go out for a bit? I just need to get some groceries and then I'll be back."

"How long will you be?" I asked. I didn't want him to know, but I didn't feel entirely safe left alone with my thoughts.

"Just an hour. I'll be as quick as I can."

An hour?

I don't know if I-
Say you're okay.

"I'll be okay."

"Are you sure? I don't have to go if you'd prefer me to stay, I-"

YOU'RE FINE
MAKE HIM LEAVE
HE NEEDS TO GO
"No it's fine - go. I'm okay. Really."

He ruffled his hand through my hair as he stood up, closing the door and leaving me alone.

As soon as I heard the front door close, I got out of bed.

You don't have much time.
Hurry up.

Look under his bed.
In his wardrobe.
In his bathroom cupboard.

Yes!
YES!

In my hands lay the blades I had been missing.

I'd only do one or two, tell Phil I walked into something.

He doesn't have to know.

No. He doesn't have to know anything.

I found myself in my bathroom, cold metal pressing against my skin.

A sharp pain.

I let out a wince from my mouth as I let the pain envelop me.

Before I realised what had happened, I found myself with more.

It's not enough.

Phil was right.

It'll never be enough for you.

But you know what's enough?

You know what'll stop the pain?

"I-if I... I kill myself."

Yes.
That's right.

Why don't you give it a try?

I wrote a note for Phil and left it for him to see.
The bathtub was soon filled with water, and I winced at the temperature as I stepped in.

It felt weird to be having a bath with my clothes on.

I guess this wasn't a normal bath.

Blade in hand, I rolled up my sleeves and stared at the scars on my wrists.

Fresh wounds scattered amongst them.

What's two more?

As I pushed the blade onto my skin, memories flooded my mind.

Horrible memories.

Bad memories.

Bullied, alone, ignored, unwanted.

Memories of running away as a child, before being caught by my mum and yelled at for hours.

I had just wanted to leave.

Now I could.

I was crying now.

Tears flooded my vision as I made the first incision, pressing the blade deep into my wrist and dragging it down my forearm.

Deeper than I'd ever gone.

I screamed out as a pain filled my arm, worse than anything I'd ever felt.

Blood trickled down my arm as I switched the blade to my other hand.

My fingers struggled to grasp it as they shook, enveloped in indescribable pain.

The final incision.

The final scream.

Blood  dripped into the water as I let my arms hang limply against the sides of the bath.

My vision soon became blurry, and I closed my eyes, willing myself to sleep.

As I fell away, the last thing I heard was Phil's voice calling out my name.

The final breath.