Bring Me Home // Phan

76

Dan's POV

I woke up in my bedroom, hearing Phil's steady breathing beside me.

As I tried to remember what happened, a searing pain shot through my arm.

You cut.

But not enough.

More.

Slowly, I slipped out of bed towards my bathroom, grabbing the spare key and locking the door.

The blade was still there from last night, and I found myself sitting in the empty bathtub.

This situation feels familiar.

Except you failed last time.

Failure.

I closed my eyes and was bringing the metal to my arm when I heard a knock on the door.

"Dan? Are you okay in there?"

I sat there, frozen.

He needs to leave.

Tell him to go away.

"Dan? Are you okay?"

"No." I whispered, and I heard Phil shuffle around - probably looking for the key, which I had with me.

"Dan, please put the blade down."

How did he know?

"I can't."

"Please, you don't deserve this. I love you so much - don't hurt yourself like this."

"Don't say that, you'll make me want to stop." My hands trembled.

"That's good."

No it's bad.

Bad bad bad.

Cutting is good.

You need it.

"I need it." I let a tear roll down my cheek. What was happening to me?

"No, you don't. You have enough. You don't need anymore."

There was a short silence.

"Please, Dan. Just put it down."

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath before letting the blade fall out of my hands. "Okay."

"Thank you. Now stand up and unlock the door. I want to see your beautiful face."

"It's not." I retorted, hauling myself out of the bathtub and opening the door.

"It is." Phil replied, crashing our lips together as soon as he set eyes on me.

Idiot.

You were so close.

If you think you're strong now you've done that, you're wrong.

I'm not backing down.

You can't go against me forever.

Olive and Martha are weak.

They don't know you like I do.

I've always been here.

I know exactly how to make you do what I want.

Phil can't protect you.

You're stupid.

Weak.

Unwanted.

You deserve every scar on your skin.

Tears slipped down my face as I moved away, finding the box of medication I was to take when the voices were strong, and slipped three down my throat.

I pushed past Phil, not caring that he could see my head was messing me up.

I didn't want his pity.

I just sat with my legs brought up to my chest and watched TV until the sun set, then I went to sleep by myself.