I Am Not. [A Phan Story]

Are you ready?

We're moving.

I'm sorry, what? Thats not something you can just leave a random note for. I look up at my wall and back down at the note. I stare at the wall for a while, and I don't even realize my eyes tearing up. A single drop rolls down my cheek and I snap out of my trance. Why am I going to miss this place? I hate it here. I actually have a wall covered in notes from bullies. Why do I have that wall? I don't know. It's stupid to keep those kinds of things. I know they're not true, so shouldn't I just ignore them or throw them in the bin? Why do I hang them up? As a reminder that nobody likes me? I know that.

Remember what you're doing Dan!

I glance back at the note on my bed. Why? Why are we moving? I hear the door burst open and jump. I run through the flat and straight to the front door, bringing the note with me. When my mum walks in, I shove the paper into her face but all I can manage to say is,

"W- but h- whe- di- wh- ho- WHAT?"

She walks by and sits on the sofa, signaling for me to come sit with her. I walk slowly over and sit down. She opens her mouth for a moment, then closes it as if she had nothing to say. She pauses for a moment, then says,

"We're leaving Manchester. It's really that simple. We're going to London next week. It's obvious you're not happy here, no matter what lies you tell us. If you have any objections, let me know now. Otherwise, you should start packing."

I feel my eyes watering up again.
I shouldn't be crying, I should be happy. I am happy, but I'm still going to miss Manchester. I open my mouth to say something, and pause. I shut my mouth and silently walk into my bedroom. The lock clicks after a minute of staring at it, debating whether or not I should lock it or go try to have a conversation. For the next ten minutes I glare at the wall of my room and read every single scribble of hatred on every single peice of crumpled up paper with silent tears rushing down my face.

Don't cry, I tell myself.

I look around my room and see that my parents laid some boxes in the corner for me to set up and pack my belongings into. I stand up and walk over towards the boxes, dragging my feet across the ground each step.
I unfold one of the boxes, step by step, very slowly. I'm glad I'm leaving the hell I call school. But I'm sad I have to leave my home. Once the box is put together, I put the clothes I'm keeping in it. I decide to keep just the black ones, two pairs of skinny jeans and a few t-shirts.

Once I'm done packing stuff I know I'll need, I look around my room for anything else I want to keep. My eyes drift to the only 'decorated' wall in my room. I stand up and stare at it with a blank emotionless face. I glance down at the bin next to all the boxes.

Why would I keep these? I step over to the bin and pick it up. Then I move it to the side and grab the small box next to it, and start taking the notes off of the wall and shoving them into the box.

Why am I keeping these? They're the only thing I have from my home in Manchester, and I don't want to leave everything behind.

"Are you ready? We need to start moving the boxes downstairs." My mum yells from the bottom of the steps."Yeah, I'll be down in a minute!" I holler back.

Am I ready? I am not.