𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝔾𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤 ➷ ℙ𝕙𝕒𝕟

. 10 .

Phil's P.O.V.

I pull out of Dan's driveway, reluctantly making my way toward my house. I had a few problems with some certain things in my life.

I didn't have a problem with where I lived. The main problem was who I lived with. I lived with my father. He and my mother had gotten a divorce a few years ago and she moved away. My dad wasn't the best guy, but he wasn't the worst either.

To keep up with our finances, he had some 'fancy' jobs that required him occasionally traveling different places for business trips. I wouldn't doubt he slept with multiple women on those business trips too.

He had just left yesterday to some unknown location (he barely ever told me where he was going.) and said he would be gone about a week. How fun.

I would be fine with my father if it wasn't for the ideals he had. What he thought was right or wrong, good or bad.

He was a very homophobic person. Couldn't stand any mention of the topic, claiming it would 'taint him with the disguising filth'. He also had very sexist views on life. Only men can and can't do certain things and only women can and can't do certain things.

Him having the whole masculinity thing going on, he had a bunch of tattoos and piercings. Even more than me. He rode a motorcycle anywhere he could, that kind of thing.

My father was the one who kind of pressured me into this whole 'punk and masculine' style. He wanted me to get tattoo sleeves and tattoos in other random places. He wanted me to have piercings and wear 'masculine' clothes.

It bothered me how pressuring he was when it came to these kinds of things.

I never disliked the look I had. I thought I looked kind of cool and badass. I looked intimidating, which is an appearance I would love to keep. If people are scared of you, they won't inquiry about your life. The only thing I hated about how I look was that it was what my father wanted. It wasn't completely my decision.

But there are some things you just can't change.

I sigh, arriving at my house and parking in my driveway. Fetching the key from under the mat, I enter the house.

My dog, Corky, looks up at the sound of the door opening. His cute little ears perk up and he smiles at me. He trots on over as I shut and lock the door.

"Hey, Corky! Who's a good boy?" I squat down and scratch behind his ear.

I stand back up and slide open the drawer we keep the dog treats in.

I put a couple in the palm of my hand, then turn around and squat back down. I hold my hand out and Corky greedily eats all the treats in a few seconds.

I chuckle and walk over to the couch to browse the internet. If I feel motivated enough, I might do some of my homework later.

Corky hops up onto the couch next to me, resting his face on my leg. I smile and scratch his head.

I wonder if Dan would like to meet Corky. He seemed pretty excited when I told him I had a dog. Dan looked adorable when he got all excited; the way his eyes would light up or the way he would get the biggest smile.

I sighed. My mind kept wandering back to Dan. I just thought he was a really kind and amazing person. I didn't like seeing him bullied and hurt; I wanted to be his friend and stop the bullying and the hurt. I didn't care that he had a disease that made him a bit different from the other people at our school. Different was good. Normal is boring.

It's just- he's so adorable and small. I just wanna hug him all the time and protect him! I'm probably a bad influence on him though and he's just being nice so I don't feel bad.

I give Corky one last pat on the head before I stand up to go make some dinner. Besides not seeming like it, I was a pretty good cook.

Despite being a good cook, I was pretty lazy. I just decided to make a simple omelet. I don't care that it's a breakfast or brunch food; anything you can have for breakfast is perfectly valid for dinner.

••• Time skip because I'm too lazy to write about Phil making an omelet •••

I take my plate with my omelet on it and sit down on the couch. I turn on the TV to the local news.

"A recent victim of a murder was found dead in her home on Smith street yesterday when her daughter came back from a job at the local grocery store. We currently have no suspects as no one was found near the scene when the body was found. Forensics checked for DNA or any sort of indicator but found nothing. If you see anything relating to this, please call 999 immediately and report the problem. Thank you. We'll be back later for an interview with the victim's daughter."

I sigh and squint my eyes. Stuff like this never happens in this neighborhood. It was usually quite peacefully.

One thing I couldn't shake was the street it was on. Smith Street. Why did that sound so familiar?

I think back to where I had been driving previously, or where I had gone. I gasped in shock. Smith street was right near where Dan lived! Does that mean he could be in danger? I doubt a murderer would strike in the same spot, but if they have no evidence for who did it, who's to say they shouldn't strike in the same area again?

I'm sure everything will be fine though. Maybe it wasn't even murder and they just did something wrong in the autopsy or something.

Why would somebody want to murder someone here? I wonder if it was just some guy that snapped and went crazy on the hunt for blood, or if it was some ex-husband or ex-boyfriend.

I suppose I best not worry about it too much. It's not great to keep my mind on murder when I'm trying to relax after a long day at school.

I switch the news channel to our main channel and click on some random TV show on Netflix. Now to just relax, watch TV, and eat my omelet in peace.

Let's not worry.