Society (Phan)

Chapter Twenty

Trigger warning: this chapter contains a lot of blood, self inflicted injuries, suicidal thoughts and things alike. Please be careful. If you don't want to read, please message me and I will happily sum up this chapter. Please read safely.

I run past everyone after leaving the school gates, hearing people call my name. I must do this, it will make the world a better place.

"Howell," I hear someone call my name, "you don't need to run so fast to fuck Lester, no one else wants to so there's no need to rush." A chorus of laughter is followed by that.

Tears threaten to fall. My vision fogs us from the tears that are creating a thick wall. Not too long now.

I finally reach my front door, hurrying to unlock it. I get it, slamming the door shut behind me and running up stairs. My bedroom door slams behind me as the overwhelming sense of wanting to end everything takes over.

Deciding that cutting would be the best way to do it as I would feel the pain I deserve, I needed something larger than the usual size blade. The kitchen knife.

I rush down stairs, my determination me exhilaration of making the world better without me in it made me almost trip up on the stairs. I get down stairs and grab the serrated  bread knife and walking upstairs, breathing deeply.

It would be better to write a note, let them know that this was caused. I grab a black pen from my blazer and rip a page out from my Science book that was sat on my desk and begin writing.

To whoever is reading this,

At this point, I should be dead, nothing but a dead burden. Just what the world needed.

I spent years trying to fit in, changing myself and who I am to be apart of this ideal society that the normal people have created, but nothing worked. Nothing will.

What I've done today is for the best. You'll see that when you realise that I was a useless faggot.

If Mum or Adam is reading this - I love you and thank you for all your efforts, I loved you even though sometimes we didn't get along. I hope either one of you will understand why I did what I did.

If Phil, Chris or PJ is reading this, thank you for giving me a shot and sorry I didn't fit in and live up to your standards.

Dan Howell.

It was now or never. The note had been written and the weapon that was going to be used was ten centimetres away.

I picked it up with my right hand, examining it before switching to my left and more dominant hand. I majestically sliced it across, not too deep yet, but enough for a wave of scarlet red blood to ooze out of the gaping wound and trickle down my arm.

I slashed again, deeper this time and more than once in the same spot, causing a river to erupt from the veins within my skin. My vision turned hazy and I couldn't help but feel dizzy.

I went in one final time underneath the two previous wounds, my sight turned to black and my head hit something; it must've been the drawers behind me.

In agonising pain I lay with my head resting of the drawers, my right wrist pouring out with the scarlet red blood that contrasted beautifully with my skin tone.