No, I'm Just Delusional (Phan) RE-WRITE IN PROCESS

Broken

Phil-

I can feel every muscle in my jaw ache. I am already crumpled on the floor and cower into a ball. I place my hands on my face feeling a hot sticky liquid on my hands and instantly feel sick. I have always hated blood. I wrap my arms around my head and curl up into a ball, shielding my face from further attack. Then I realise the tears streaming down my face. I don't care anymore, he can see me weak, I have nothing to live for. I lay there curled up, tensed for further attack. Once the adrenalin wears off I start to shake uncontrollably.

I hear Dan sit down near me. He slowly inches towards me and I whimper more knowing he's come to finish me off. “Phil, Phil I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean it, I j-just lost control.” Dan apologises. I feel a few slim fingers gently pry my ruffled hair from my puffy eyes and reluctantly open them. I am meet with two deep chocolatey remorse filled eyes. “Phil I am truly sorry.” I find it hard to believe him but the sorrow evident in his voice is hard to ignore. Yet I still sob and shake.

“I have to go Phil, do you want a ride home?” He says abruptly. I feel so confused, right now, so many emotions. I am scared of Dan, that he is going to hurt me again, i'm tired, I strangely feel as if I want Dan to stay. He has done so much to me these past five years and I have the scars to prove it, yet since yesterday he seems different, like he actually cares. I instantly regretted believing such stupidity. No one cares. I shake my head, deciding I want to be alone.

He gets up and leaves without a second glance. I stay in that position for well over an hour and hope he is gone. I arise cautiously, looking over my shoulder. All clear. I walk over to the path and stop mid stride. Dan is in his Jeep starring off into space. I warily take another step and he doesn't move an inch. I sigh. I run past the car, my ribs aching, from last night.

I don't understand how I could have feelings for someone who has inflicted me so much pain over the years. I can remember nearly everything, the only things I can't remember are the ones I blacked out in. I shudder involuntary. I stumble home feeling blind even though its still light. It wasn't the punch that caused it but the memories. They just sit there in my mind constantly trying to evade me of who I really am, underneath all of the crap I am told.

I make it to the door dreading going in. I am early and he probably isn't even drunk yet. What am I kidding he's always was drunk. I open the door slowly, not surprised it's not locked. I swing my head around checking to see if any one is home. I quickly scuttle over to the stair and race up them. I open my door quickly and shut it. I stop in shock. I'm not alone. A figure stands in the corner glaring at me. The shade from the small chest of draws covers his face. The figure takes a step forward and I am still shocked but not as surprised when it is John.

“Think you could escape me you little fucker?” He laughs curly and strides over to me. His tall and bulky figure leans over me and I want nothing more than to curl up in a ball. I stand still knowing he would only relish in the fact that he intimidates me. He brings up his night me and connects it with my man-hood. I immediately fall to the floor whimpering. He laughs again. I knew I wasn't going to get it easy tonight. He lifts me up by the hair and drags me over to the cot, throwing me down. I wince as I feel the impact of the frail springs trying to support my weight. He turns to leave and I send a prayer to God thanking him for making him leave.

Last night before I got home I had to take the nose support thing off so no one would notice. My face has been excruciating and I waste no time retrieving it from the bottom draw of my chest. I sigh even though I am still hurting it feels a lot better. I lay back on the bed, curling back up into a ball. I slowly drift off to sleep.

“AHHHHHH” I scream as something collides with my leg. I sit up dazed, but quickly alert. I see John standing over me a baseball bat in hand, he swings again connecting to my thigh. I let out a pained scream. “Turn over.” He says sharply. I know its only going to get worse. “Oh and your brothers home.” He grins knowing how much it pains me for my brother to hear or see me in pain. I don't retaliate, I can't retaliate I don't know what he'll do to me if I did. I turn over and catch a glimpse out of the window realising that it was now night and I must of fallen asleep. He swings again and I hear the slapping of flesh. My eyes already wet and my face contorted in pain I felt numb. However only numb enough to not think, still feel. My hands grip the sheets and I struggle not to scream, every time I scream he hits harder.