Dan would think for hours. I mean technically everyone is always thinking, but that's not what Dan did. No, he would lie on his back and stare at the ceiling trapped there in deep thought. Good things, bad things, all kinds of stuff would enter his mind in these times. A few things he always went back to, though, were all about creativity. Technically he could write, draw, paint, sing whatever he wanted. He had the freedom. So why couldn't he? He had very articulate thoughts, detailed images of all his ideas. In his head he stored all kinds of things about characters and scenes he could illustrate, prompts for stories he could write, melodies for songs, yet he could never get it to show. Never put it onto paper, never put it into words, never experiment with the notes. That's not to say he hadn't tried, he just couldn't materialize his thoughts. He envied people who could just pick up a pencil and draw whatever was on their minds. Or turn a bad situation into a beautiful poem. He was jealous, to say the least. He felt trapped when in reality creativity was supposed to be one of the most freeing things in the world. Maybe Dan was broken, he thought. I mean there are plenty of people who aren't very good at artsy things or have lots of ideas but just aren't very good at drawing. Dan could draw. If you let him, he could copy how objects looked onto paper to a tee. But those were actual tangible things, real solid objects that he could see. They weren't fantasy, thoughts, or abstract ideas. It stressed him out how much freedom he had that he wasn't even using.
Dan stretched out on his back, removed from his thoughts. He sighed as he lied there on his bed. He looked over at the clock on his night stand. It read 5:44 a.m. I guess I should get up he thought. He had been up thinking all night and there was no use trying to sleep now. He peeled himself off of his still made bed. He hadn't bothered crawling under the covers the night before. He showered, got dressed, and sat there waiting for an appropriate time before he could leave for the walk to school. He had enough time to make breakfast and eat it. If he wanted to he could make an all out bacon, eggs, pancakes breakfast for himself but he wasn't hungry. He was rarely hungry. That was another thing he thought about a lot. How he never ate because he was hungry, only ever because he was bored or other people told him to since the whole world seemed have times for eating figured out. A few of his friends had noticed his eating patterns and were worried he might have some sort of eating disorder, but he just genuinely wasn't hungry. Maybe that was a sign of something, but Dan chose to ignore that.
At 8:25 Dan headed out the door towards school. A 20 minute walk left him 15 minutes before school started to grab his books, head to class, maybe talk to a few friends. Maybe. Dan had noticed himself drifting away from his friends a little lately. He still had his best friend PJ, though. He talked to PJ, sometimes they hung out. Maybe he had been drifting from him too. No, Dan didn't want to think about that. Besides Dan didn't really need close friends anyway. He had people to hang out with in the hallways and he had people to partner with in school projects and that was enough, right?
Dan walked up the stairs into his school and immediately felt that today was not going to be a productive one. He could already feel himself zoning out, he really wasn't in the mood for this. It was probably going to be just another 'avoid your friends, stare out the window' kind of days. Dan hadn't thought much of it, but more and more of his days were turning out like this. He made his way to his locker and was met with his lock. He twisted his lock around quickly a whole bunch of times before actually entering the combo. Something he always did. Sometimes people gave him weird looks for it but mostly people just passed it off as 'something that Dan kid does'. Most kids had stopped paying attention to his abnormal behaviours long ago.
His locker opened and he stared inside. Sometimes he did this. It wasn't really like was zoning out or daydreaming. He was just staring, he had simply just stopped. His brain was taking a break, it was tired. This actually happened quite a bit, he got tired and he just stopped. He was still aware of what was going on around him but he just stopped really processing it, none of it was important.
Only did his staring stop when the bell for his first class rang. shit. How long had he been standing there? He probably looked crazy, as if people didn't think that already. And did none of his friends try to come and talk to him? Usually atleast someone says hello. Dan knew he wasn't being realistic, it's not like he was a great friend, always cancelling plans and never really in the mood to talk. He didn't deserve his friends still trying to be his friend and yet he still expected it. What a dumb thing to assume, he thought. Dan sighed, grabbing his books. There was no use hurrying now if he was already late. The thought of skipping crossed his mind but the cons outweighed the pros in this situation. He had projects going on in a few of his classes right now and man, did he need the class time. He entered his art class and braced himself for the stares. No matter what grade you're in you always get the same thing, stares and judgement from students and a matter of fact 'you're late' from a teacher. This was no exception. "You're late Howell" stated the art teacher Mr.Gibson. "Yes sir." Dan responded, he didn't mean for it to come off as sassy but Mr. Gibson must have considering the glare and the stern 'get to your seat, Howell' Dan got in response.
Dan walked to the back of the class without another word. In art class everyone sat at tables with about five other people sitting there as well. Dan's table was at the back left of the class right near a big window. Dan didn't care much for the other people sitting at his table, well, except for PJ. But Dan didn't know if he had the energy to talk to PJ today. Pj was a pretty positive and energetic person and Dan admired him for that, really, but it meant that hanging out with PJ was rarely casual, at least not to Dan's standards. He always wanted to do things. It was never just have a conversation, it was have a conversation and make plans and play games. It was never just watch a movie. It was watch a movie and make pizza and build a fort. Not that that wasn't fun and all but Dan just didn't have the energy for stuff like that anymore. And he hated himself for it a little bit.
Dan sighed quietly and tried to push his thoughts to the back of his mind as he walked up to his table. He gave Pj a small smile and sat down next to him. Dan was praying for silence but as soon as Dan so much as glanced at Pj, he was trying to start a conversation. "Hey Dan, you finished the English assignment?" Oops, Dan had forgotten about that. "No."
A/N: wrote this forever ago, i think i'll continue it, hope you enjoyed
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Problems - (phan)
FanfictionDan's got some problems: a couple undiagnosed mental illnesses and a huge crush on a kid in his art class.
