always ask why //phan

pain

~dan~

when i wake the next morning, my body is in pain. my legs are stiff, my abdomen hurts when i try to stand and i can't really feel my nose until i touch it.

i limp towards my mirror and see the purple bruises all over my body, including my face. i slowly walk over to my dresser and pull out some black jeans and a black band tee. my entire body is enveloped in flames as i attempt to get dressed, but. after ten minutes of struggling, i am finally presentable (minus the bruises).

i sneak down the stairs, carefully avoiding the spots that creak. my father is on the couch again, passed out and holding a piece of a broken glass bottle.

i pass him and make my way to the kitchen, pulling an ice pack and an uncrustable from the freezer. i stick the sandwich in my mouth and the ice on my nose and head out the back door.

--

i probably wont go to school today. i cant handle seeing people's faces as they pass me in the hallway.

so i go back to the playground.

part of me wants to see the stranger from yesterday, even though i know he won't be there. he should be at school.

still, something pulls me back to the place where i saw him yesterday. a strange twist in my stomach directs me towards the large, twisty slide.

ignoring the stares from parents and their children, i slip under the platform. i sit down on the ground again and lean against the hot plastic.

i sit for a while, wondering how i got to this point: in the middle of a park when im supposed to be at school, sitting under a slide tracing the bruises on my arms, contemplating life.

i hold the ice pack over my face so that it covers my eyes and nose. i lean my head back. when the cold is too unbearable to keep the pack in contact with my skin, i remove it. i refocus my eyes and they immediately land on my writing from last night. did i really write that much? i think, seeing the entire paragraph of text.

i stand up to get a better look and find that someone replied to my original statement.

"why do i need to know the truth? sometimes it's better to not understand"

this confuses me. why would someone not want to know the truth?

i glance down to see my sharpie laying on the ground. i grab the marker and uncap it, bringing the tip to the plastic.

"the truth gives you power, control. if you dont have control, you have nothing."

i drop the marker on the ground and look around. no one saw me.

except for one person.

(hey guys! thanks for reading and i hope youve been enjoying the story so far!

this is just an update to say that im thinking of starting a dnp one-shots collection. if you have a prompt or a request that you want me to write, please message me!)

           ~parker