\\ the bfs // [texting story] [ON HOLD]

024

Author's Note: Hey everyone! I know it's been months since I've updated this story. I don't really have any good reason why except that I've been busy. I'm not sure if this story will be updated as much as it used to be, but I know you all deserve an update, so here we go!

RECAP:

Phil pours his heart out to Martin after coming home from the dance Dan put together with Chris. Before Phil had arrived home, PJ confronted and punched him. Then, Dan calls Phil...

"Phil! Help!" He cried out.

"Huh? What's wrong?!" Phil gasped, slamming his laptop shut and standing up.

"It's Chris...he's been stabbed!"

Wait...what?!

***

CHRIS' POV:

Everything hurts, especially my stomach. I can feel the blood rushing out of my body as I lay on the ground, unable to call for help as PJ covers my mouth, suffocating me.

I wanted to ask him why he did such a thing. Why did he stab me? What have I done to him?

"You! I-I hate you, Chris!" He growled, his eyes becoming more prominent as his rage got worse.

"You made me do this! You made me attack you!"

But I didn't...

"Why couldn't you guys just...been friends with me?"

For a flashing second, his eyes looked sincere and full with care, but then it all came back. The rage filled his eyes yet again.

"I s-should've n-n-never liked y-you." I stuttered out into his palm.

He reacted quickly and moved his hand away from my mouth.

"Say it again." He sneered, but I could tell he was mildly interested to hear what I had to say.

"I should've n-never liked y-you!" I hoarsely whispered out as blood seeped out of my mouth and ran down the sides of my face.

PJ growled and kicked me in the balls, making my face contort into angles no one has ever seen before.

"You disgusting creature! You should've never liked me? Come on, as if I would've EVER liked you! Faggot!" He screamed at me before dashing down the road.

His words hurt, but I couldn't let go now. Who else would he hurt? Dan? Phil? I have to warn them!

I reached for my phone that was laced with blood and called 999 (911 in the U.S).

"Hello? What's your emergency?"

"I-I've been stabbed." I painfully whispered out.

I didn't hear what the operator said next as I passed out.

(P.S. - I know the chapter's short, but I'm just getting back into the groove of updating, so a couple of short chapters should be expected. Thanks for reading! xx)