suicide hotline / phan

19

Trigger warning

*Dan's POV*

The blood pours from my skin as if it's taking all of the bad with it, draining it from my system, allowing me to breathe. I hastily pull my sleeve over the wounds, watching as the material is instantly stained red. Why did I even bother pulling my sleeve down?, I should know that's a bad idea by now. I sit and stare as the dark red gradually travels up the sleeve, soaking the cotton. Somehow, the fact that I'm slowly dying calms me down. It's strange how that's possible. I close my eyes, the anxiety flowing out of my body for the minutes that I sit there. Before long, the sleeve has soaked up all that it can, and now the bathroom floor is the victim.

shit.

shitshitshitshit.

I didn't expect to cut this deep... I guess they were new blades, maybe I pressed harder, maybe it's because I hadn't done it for a while? I don't know. But it's bad. I start rummaging for bandages, my hands trembling. I can't find any, where the fuck does Phil keep his bandages? Does he even have any? Maybe there's some in the kitchen; I think that's where the medical drawer is. Why the fuck did I do it? What the fuck am I going to do? How the fuck am I going to hide this from Phil?

Phil.

My shaking hands struggle to pull open the kitchen drawers- no bandages.

Phil, holy shit Phil.

What have I done? I'm just breaking him even more...

I feel as if I've changed a lot since the day I met Phil... it's as if back then I was small, lonely, just a lost boy. Now, now I'm the same, just not so lonely. Not so small anymore. And I owe that all to Phil... but what was I doing now? Breaking his heart, slowly killing him.

And now I'm in tears, on the kitchen floor surrounded with my own blood. I don't quite know what to do, I don't quite know what I can do except just get rid of all the emotion. And, no matter how hard I vowed to myself that I wouldn't do it again, I reach for the same old bottle of alcohol and chug whatever's left of it.

~~~

*Phil's POV*

I unlock the front door and step through, my eyes instantly raking the living room to try and find Dan.

"Helloooooo" I call, smiling.

I didn't want to have to leave him today, I honestly didn't, and now my brain sends itself into an instant panic mode when I receive no response.

"Dan?" I ask, beginning to get frantic.

I know that he's probably okay, that he just can't hear me, but I still can't help the shaking that immediately takes over my body.

No response.

"Dan! Where are you?" I shout, throwing all of my stuff on the sofa and running across the room towards the kitchen.

He has to be okay, he must be okay... he's been doing well. His depression is getting better, he's- he's recovering. But what if something's still happened? That's when I hear it.

Smash.

~~~

*DAN'S POV*

Ive somehow ended up in the bathroom and I can barely see anything as my vision spins, blurring everything around me. My whole body is trembling like I'm being shocked, I can barely hold myself up. Tears stain my skin as well as the blood, and I continue to sob uncontrollably as I think about how much I want Phil right now, how much I wished he was here to hold me and tell me that it was going to be okay. But I've done it again, I've broken his heart and broken my promises. I've cut, drank, and now.... now I'm a mess, a bloody halfway alcoholic that can't fucking deal with any emotion.

I take another swig.

My sobbing becomes even more intense and I place my hands against the wall, a pathetic attempt to hold myself together. But I can't do this, I can't live like this anymore.

I take another swig.

The alcohol isn't even working.

Even the fucking drugs don't work.

And that brings up a song I like in my head, but that reminds me of how emo I am, and that reminds me of the bullying and that reminds me of how horrible of a person I am and that reminds me of why I'm here in the first place.

Because I'm a mistake.

And with that, I slam the bottle into the wall, glass shattering everywhere.

~~~

*PHIL'S POV*

I run towards the shatter, my legs carrying me before my brain can even comprehend what's happening.

"Dan?" I say again as I push on the bathroom door, and that's when I see it.

Blood.

Blood everywhere.

I stand in shock, my mouth parted slightly. I know I have to do something but I can't, I can't. I feel my heart break as he looks at me, pain and tears in his eyes.

"Phil" He sobs, sounding unbelievably drunk.

There's blood staining the whole sleeve of his shirt, and he honestly looks a wreck. There's glass everywhere from a bottle of alcohol, presumably from being just smashed against the wall.

"Dan, I-" I begin, but I'm not quite sure exactly what I'm supposed to say.

"I'm fine" He says, attempting to walk out of the room but stopping when he falls into me.

I'm still in shock, my body isn't working apart from wrapping my arms around him to catch him. But that's when I fully come to terms with what's happened- he's cut himself.

~~~

*DAN'S POV*

He pulls me towards him as I trip and almost fall, keeping me close to his chest. His breathing is shaky and his eyes are empty. It's scary just how broken he looks, how numb he looks. And all of this was because of me.

"Phil I'm sorry it's fine" I slur, none of my words coming out right. "I'm okay"

I feel his hands stroking my hair, trembling just as much as me. Eventually his hand moves down to my arm, and I flinch when he touches it.

"Don't look" I say, pulling my arm away in some sort of defence.

"Shh, it's okay" He whispers. "I just need to see"

"You can't see" I plead, beginning to cry again. I don't really understand what's going on or what's happening but I know that he cannot see what I've just done.

"I promise I'll be okay" He soothes, but it's obvious he's barely thinking about what he's saying.

I slowly lift up my blood-sodden sleeve, my heart racing, and I have to turn my head away.

"Dan, we have to take you to hospital" Is all that I can hear before I pass out into his arms.