Friends ; Phan ~ Completed

just once

TW- self harm

{Dan's POV}

I wake up on the couch, thanks to a sinking feeling in my stomach. My eyes flutter open and I feel the tears still damp on my cheeks. I can't help but notice the pounding headache I apparently have. I look up at the ceiling in despair. I can feel it starting up again. That depression from high school.. Crawling up on me.

I thought I was over the depression and fucking suicidal thoughts. Guess I was wrong. I just, don't want to go back to that constant feeling.. But I can't fix it.

I sit up, and sigh, feeling completely over my life. Then it hits me again, sheer panic, and it's like a whole world of problems is weighing on my shoulders. I'm feeling like I'm about to burst into tears. Over what? I don't even fucking know.

I sit there, biting my sore lip, the dull sting calming the anxious feeling that won't go away. My stomach is doing backflips, and not in a good way. I feel sick. My heart is pounding out of my chest and I can't breathe. Why am I being so panicky? What is my deal right now?

Tears prick at my eyes as I can't stop this helplessly anxious state I'm in. I'm snapped from my thoughts at the bitter taste of blood. I put a finger to my lip, staring down at the blood. Then the sick, twisted thought pops into my head.. What if I cut? Just once.. It's been a while.. I won't start it up again.. regularly.

Not enough to do too much harm.. I just, used to when I was in high school. I stopped after I started talking to Phil. That's because things were okay. I almost started again in 2012, but that was only once. Now those thoughts are back. I knew I wasn't going to be able to get rid of it forever, but I thought it wouldn't be that hard to resist doing it.

But, it helped. In the worst way possible, it took away the pain in my head. Just a few cuts won't hurt.. I won't keep doing it or anything.. Just once.

At this point, I've almost completely made up my mind. I'm going to go out of my mind if I just sit here, panicking over.. I don't even know what. Just do it.

I get up, knocking on the door to make sure that Phil is still asleep. He'd be upset if he found out.. Whatever. I go into the bathroom, locking the door and sifting through a drawer. I find it, staring down at the small piece of metal, tears falling from my eyes now. I take a shaky breath, looking up in the mirror at my reflection. Pitiful. I look absolutely horrible.

I look back down at the blade in my hands, twirling it between my fingers. I watch as the metal glimmers in the light. I pull up my sleeve, looking down at my pale skin. There are still scars, but they're faded. I press the blade against my skin softly, hesitating.

Is this a good idea?  No, of course not.

Am I still gonna do it?  Yep.

I bite my lip hard, dragging the blade along my skin. I watch as red seeps from the cuts, dripping down onto the sink. I repeat the movement a few times more, wincing in pain as the stinging starts up. The shock stops and the real pain starts. I sink down to the floor, laying against the tile.

I suddenly feel a little too light headed. I should probably try to stop the bleeding, but I just sit there, closing my eyes and focusing on the pain. Pretty sick isn't it? That physical pain hurts less than the monsters in my head?

I look up at the ceiling with blurry vision, letting my mind take over.

What's the point anymore anyways? Why am I even alive? What's the point? Kids spend their childhood at school, and teens spend it either flunking school or completely consumed by it. Now I'm clueless as to what the point is. We spend every day doing the same shit. When does it change? When will I actually be happy? When will happiness stop being so unreachable? When will pleasure be permanent? Never? Because if so, why am I here?

What does the world need, someone like me? Think about it.. The world would continue..

Who would miss me? My family? Phil? The internet?

But, they'd move on.. Eventually. Right?

I mean, its all hypothetical, but what would people do?

But, I'm in love.. In love with someone.. Who.. I'm.. well, I don't know. We haven't spoken. I guess that is what is killing me the most. I need to just, let it all out on the damn table. The thing is, whenever I'm with Travis, he makes things seem different than they are. I can't help but feed into the stupidity. It's toxic. Terrible, and I can't fix it. 

I hate some of the things I've done in the past few days. I hate what I've said. I really just wish I could've said something to Phil. That might never happen. Maybe it would've been better if I never told him anything.. About any of it. 

Why are any of us here, anyway? What is the point in existence? Why must we go through the motions and let the rest of the world move on without us? In a world full of millions, what's the point? We're all so, unimportant in the grand scheme of things.. At least, I am.

I didn't realize it, but in being all in my head, I must have dozed off. "Dan! Please.." I hear a distant voice shout, clearly worried. But, I'm tired. I'm so tired I could just fall asleep, forever. "Wake up!" I hear a loud shout, and someone shaking my shoulders.  I snap back to the real world, just starting to wake up. It's Phil, straddling my hips and shaking me by the shoulders. Why does my arm hurt so much? Why am I so lightheaded? -Oh. Shit.

"Dan?" I hear Phil whimper, and I reluctantly open my eyes, looking up at him. "Oh, Thank god." He sighs in relief, leaning over me and letting out a sob.

I keep my mouth shut because I really don't know what to say. I didn't want him knowing.. I wasn't planned for something like this to happen. But he knows.. And I feel like a complete asshole.

"Dan, Jesus Christ, What happened? What's even..? Why? How?" He asks, hardly able to form a sentence. He looks at me, looking completely baffled, tears streaming down his face. 

I slowly realize what this looks like. I look to my right at my arm, my wrist covered in blood, with plenty on the white tile. In my other hand is the blade, which is quite an uncomfortable thing to fall asleep holding. It's starting to look like I tried killing myself. But, I didn't wanna. Now, that's a lie. I did. I was just.. not trying to at the moment. 

I look back at him, my own jaw dropped. I shake my head, speechless and unable to come up with a reasonable excuse for this. He presses his lips together, wiping his eyes and taking a shaky breath. He looks at me, as if asking why.

"I don't know." I whisper, not really intending on him hearing that. But he does, letting out a defeated sob, taking off his glasses and rubbing a hand over his face.

"Dear God, you terrified me." He mutters shakily, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "Why, Dan?" He asks again, and still, I don't have an appropriate answer.

I wanted to.. In a way.

{1310}