Chapter 3- Voices

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•Phil's pov•

Trigger Warnings: Abuse, Homophobic slurs, and Self harm

Words:358

I run out of Dan's house to my car. I quickly drive home, but when I get there he's already home. I try and to go in quietly but he hears me.
"Damn it." I say under my breath.
"Hey faggot."
I stop and look down to my shoes.
"I said, hey faggot." He says shoving my against a wall.
"Hi father." I say looking into his eyes.
"Did my son get fucked up the ass today? Or suck some guys dick."
"No father."
"Well why don't I just beat the gay out of you then." He says punching me in the face. Then a kick to my side.
"P-please stop father." I beg.
"Oh so I also raised a weak son to." He repetitively kicks my side. Till he leaves with one final punch to my stomach.

•••

I get up from where I have been lying for the past hour. I feel like I have just enough strength to get up. I slowly make my way to the bathroom to clean up. I get done and I feel like shit so I go and lay down and go to sleep.

•••

I wake up at 3:27 am. Ugh my side hurts really bad. But what hurts the most are the voices in my head.

This is why no one likes you.

You are a nobody.

Look at you, you're covered in scars no one likes guys with scars.

No one likes a guy who cuts, drinks, or smoke just so the pain goes away.

See not even your own father loves you.

Faggot.

Worthless.

Waste of space.

Why would anyone like you?

I can't think straight right now. I'm in so much pain. So why not add some more to that?

I reach over and grab the blade from in my night stand and bring in to my wrist, then slide. I slide four more times before I put it away. I roll my sleeve back down. Then I lay back down, and fall a sleep with only one thing on my mind. Dan.

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