Unlovable

Chapter 7

I reluctantly opened my eyes open waiting until they’d focus. I was still lying in the alley, though now I was behind a horribly smelling dumpster. I couldn’t even die properly. I really am a shitty excuse for a human being. I looked up at the grey sky wondering how much longer it’d be before I’d be at peace. My muscles ached telling me not to move. My body was at a constant war with itself making me feel sick. I’m sure if I had any food in me, I would have thrown it up by now. I turned my head over making my neck sear in pain looking at my duvet. It looked like a pile of garbage on the floor. The stuffing was coming out, it was soaking wet, and there were holes big enough for me to crawl through if I had the strength. I watched people pass by on their way to work or school, not noticing me; though I’m not sure if it’s by choice or not. One person in particular caught my attention.

“Dan? Are you down here?” Phil called lifting up my duvet.

“He—here.” I coughed wincing in pain from speaking.

“What happened to you?” He asked crouching down, placing his hand gently on my shoulder examining my fresh bruises.

“I could ask you the same thing.” I snapped flinching away in pain.

I hated myself for saying that out loud. Phil never had any obligation to care for me. He just did because he wanted to and now here he is again and instead of me being grateful, I’m a snappy, sarcastic shit.

“I’m so sorry I haven’t visited you, Dan. Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”

“No, please don’t. I can’t have him find me again.”

“Him? Who is ‘he’?”

“N—no one. I can’t say.”

Phil sighed and twisted his lips to the side. He stood up and scooped me up in his arms as I screamed out in pain from being touched.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to hurt you.” He whispered walking away from the alley.

“Where are we going? Phil, seriously. It’s really important that I don’t go to a hospital. Nothing is broken.”

“We’re not going to a hospital.”

“Then where are we going?”

“My flat.”

After a few minutes of silence, Phil walked into a tenement building I passed when I first got here. He called for the lift as we rode up in silence. I had a thousand questions for him, but couldn’t voice any of them as I was still in a ton of pain and despite sleeping through the night, exhausted. Once we were off the lift, he walked down to the end of the hall and pushed the door open carrying me inside the large, posh-looking flat.

“Do you think you can stand?” he asked me softly.

“I—I’m not sure.” I replied pathetically.

He carefully put me down, still holding me up by my hip making me suck in air through my gritted teeth so I wouldn’t scream again. He backed up slowly starting to let go. I surprised myself by standing, but my legs began to shake as I felt them give out. Phil was back by my side again and brought me into the bathroom where he had a bubble bath with hot water waiting.

“Umm, Phil?” I questioned looking from the bath to him wondering what he wanted me to do.

“I thought you might like to get cleaned up.” He smiled rubbing my back gently, guiding me towards the tub.

I pushed through the pain and tried to find comfort in him, sticking my fingers in the water to feel it. It instantly warmed my frozen fingers making me self-aware of how cold I really am. I’m so fucking cold.