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Phil

"Please just let me help you." My voice was drowned out by the silence that followed, my eyes unblinking - waiting for Dan to say something, anything.

"I'm beyond help. Not that you could do anything to make it better. I'm not some project you can break and then put together again. You've done the damage. Just leave me alone."

His voice was quiet, yet held a confidence in it. Maybe from anger, or something else that fueled his outburst. Needless to say, I was speechless and for a short while I stood there with my mouth agape.

But then I realised that Dan had walked quite a distance away from me, and I quickly ran to catch up to him. I could see he had acknowledged I was by his side, but refused to look at me.

"Dan when I saw you the other day I found blood on my hands."

He didn't reply, just pursed his lips tighter together and sped up his walking pace, feet moving quicker and quicker as if he couldn't wait to get home and be rid of me.

"Dan is someone hurting you?"

I watched as his whole body stiffened at my words. Something flashed across his face - like a barrier had been broken for a second - before the cold emotionless look re-emerged.
"You're such a fucking hypocrite."

He was right about that. But his reaction proved to me that something wasn't right. I didn't know what it was making me want to help, but I felt no other option than to try and fix this broken boy.

Maybe it was guilt?

Maybe...

I didn't know.

We walked on in silence and I was surprised when Dan turned to me and said, "This is me."

His house was three doors down from mine.

We'd been living so close and I'd never known.

That's how I ran into him the other day.

But what was he running from?

Our eyes met for a few seconds and I was sure I felt something in my stomach when his gaze met mine. Like my whole body had flipped upside, my heart was beating quicker and I had a shortness of breath.

Then he moved into his house and closed the door behind him.

It was probably just withdrawal.

I needed to get home and drink.

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