Broken Boy, |Phan & KicktheStickz|

.Chapter 17.

Phil's POV.

I lay there, breathless, I can't believe what just happened.
"Dan?" I ask and he nods. His head laying on my chest, his hand on my stomach. "That, was amazing" I whisper and he smiles. "I agree, come on, let's get back into the other bed before the others get suspicious". He says, hitting my stomach lightly.

We get up and get changed into our clothing before walking out an do,imbuing back into my bed. We climb in, carefully to not wake up Chris and PJ and he just lay there. I place my head on his chest as he wraps an arm around me. My hand lays across his chest, opposite my face. I look down at my wrist and see the horrible yet beautiful cuts scattered clearly across my wrist.

I trace my thumb across the fragile skin. Across the massive word that ran across my elbow to my wrist. 'Faggot'
"Phil! Hun?" Dans voice cuts me away from my thoughts. "Yeah?" I say, looking up at him. "Don't think about them anymore." He says and I shake my head. "You can't not when there right In Front of you." I retaliate, like he said something rude but all he was trying to do was help.

"These do not control you in anyway okay!" He says and I just laugh bitterly. "You know they do." I feel his body tense slightly, me instantly regretting my words. "Dan I'm s-" "Goodnight Phil." He says turning over so my head was away from his chest and his back was facing me. "Dan I di-" "Goodnight Phil!" He says sternly and I just nod, "goodnight," I squeak and I turn over. Feeling weak.

Why the fuck did you do that?

Your such a fucking idiot.

He is still sensitive about it you know.

I wait for ten minutes for Dan to fall asleep before I get off of the bed. Making sure not to wake up the others. Am I seriously going to do this. I guess so. I walk over to my Chester drawers and pull out the purple box. "Hello beautiful friend." I whisper to myself. I slowly walk into the bathroom. Turning on the light and shutting the door, carefully locking it. I grab the box and open it, my hands shaking as I grabbed the razor.

Worthless.
Useless.
Fat
Ugly
Thick

That word getting to me the most. The word that explains me, the word that is so true.

Thick

I grab the razor and I place it on my wrist, feeling the cool blade connect with my skin once again. Smiling down at the blade. I slowly per ice the skin, red liquid slowly pin pricking at the cut as I drag the blade, making a fresh cut.

I smiled at the relief it gave me, the feeling of numbness and sadness overwhelming me. I cut twice more before deciding to add a word. In medium sized letters was the word 'Dyslexic.' Right next to the word freak so it looked like it was 'Dyslexic freak'

(I am not against dyslexic people as my brothers have it and I do have some traces of it! Don't take offence please!)

That's what I am though.

A dyslexic freak
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