p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="fb083b9981887d3de278f1d06e3f0af8"I'm falling, so I'm taking my time on my ridebr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Trigger warning; Self - harm, Suicide, Swearing./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5887006a1bb4dd3ce119b22c30d2781c"I just want to stay in the sunbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Where I findbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /I know it's hard sometimesbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Pieces of peace in the Sun's peace of mindbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /I know it's hard sometimes./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7a00fbb59f140a6dee51dd408cde549c"Dan basked in the sunlight, stretching out like a cat, yawns imitating purrs. It was a good morning. A lazy morning. A "staying in bed until midday" morning. It was the kind of morning where Dan could forget that he was alive, where he could lose himself in thoughts and memories of whatever dreams his mind had conjured last night. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /This morning, they were good dreams. Dreams of turning his life around, of momentous moments that made everything seem better, of being happy. Light streamed through his window, illuminating dust particles that danced around Dan's room with a vigour and joy that Dan had never possessed. He forced himself to focus on his dream, and ignore the crushing inevitability of life that was sneaking up in his thoughts. He didn't want to be reminded of his responsibilities. His dream was much more style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Unfamiliar memories of a familiar face, that filled his heart to bursting and inspired him to do something with his life, to become someone worth being. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"It's a nice idea." Dan thought idly. No one that inspirational would want to know him, though. He dismissed the idea in favour of reliving the emotions ignited within him once again. It was a peaceful happiness, but hollow. It wasn't real. Dreams were the ultimate form of escapism, and Dan could do with an style="box-sizing: border-box;" /The sun shone through cracks in Dan's curtain onto his face, and Dan basked in its warmth. College could wait./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="fad20dddfb9821594e2cb617abd15a8f"Yes, I think about the end just way too muchbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /But it's fun to fantasizebr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /On my enemies I wouldn't wish who I wasbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /But it's fun to fantasize./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1ad20a6b61a9dc4514fe28b415c151d8"Dan cried out a little as the razor blade slipped from between his bloodstained fingers, leaving a gouge deeper than the one he had attempted to create. It was an accident, he told himself. He was in control. It was one thing to dream of death, of peaceful quietness, it was another to actually try to kill himself. Seven thin lines and one deep, dark tear marked Dan's skin, covering old scars, coating them in blood and a perpetual sadness that never seemed to leave him, even once the blood was cleared and his arms healed. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"I'll go no more; I am afraid to think what I have done; look on't again I dare not." Dan whispered to himself. He sat, alone, in the dark; for he had no reason to look upon his hatred once it had passed. He was already filled with the highest amount of self loathing, viewing his ugly mistakes would only increase that. He was in control, he told himself. Even when he was in the midst of his darkest, deepest desires, he still managed to be the biggest of Shakespeare nerds. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /He moved to wash himself, to hide the blood that would only raise suspicion and cause alarm. He didn't want to inconvenience his family. Even if it would only be a mild style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"A little water clears us of this deed." A deed soon to be forgotten, hidden under jumpers and long sleeved tops, or bracelets and bands in summer. It was an irony Dan often laughed at, scars and cuts hidden under memories of amazing festivals with friends and laughter. Not that any of those friends cared enough about Dan to talk to him anymore. It was a sad truth that Dan was the friend who was... forgettable. Only invited if he asked to tag along. Only remembered when he screamed for attention. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /He was That friend. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Or at the very least, it felt like he was. He recognised that he was probably more well-liked than he thought, or was that narcissism? Dan didn't care enough to over analyse his mind. He wouldn't wish this fucked up cocktail of neurosis on anyone else, even his bitter enemies. Did he have enemies? Probably not. Hating someone required some level of caring about their existence. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan finished clearing up his mess quickly, and left the room looking as though he hadn't been there at all. As if he didn't exist. He moved to his bed, cradling his arm slightly, and settled in for another night of tedious internet style="box-sizing: border-box;" /AmazingPhil had made a new video./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="81be7969fa73eb4ade32a474d25669a8"Oh I'm fallingbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /So I'm taking my time on my ride/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2939e0c07359ab3c448ce98feb82ee9c"Dan didn't know when his obsession with the AmazingPhil had started, but he knew that it was a big one. Phil had been prioritised in his mind with Shakespeare and Muse as one of the most important things in his life. He was caring and funny, beautiful and sweet. He liked all of the same bands as Dan; Muse, Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance. He was truly (Pun aside) Amazing. His life was not perfect, but interesting. Meaningful. He had impacted so many people's lives and made such a big difference. It was easy for Dan to be captured by Phil's videos, to lose himself in the other boys life. He commented on videos and replied to tweets, along with a sea of other fans. Phil had just over four thousand subscribers on youtube, a number so big that Dan figured his comments would never be seen by style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Until they style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan was woken up at 8:32am by his phone vibrating on his face. He had a twitter notification boldly declaring that amazingphil had replied to his tweet. It was nothing more than a simple "lol", but to Dan it meant the entire world. It was like his life had exploded with a cataclysm of colour, and hope. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan was style="box-sizing: border-box;" /From then on, Dan made sure he replied to every tweet, commented on every video and liked every photo that Phil shared. He forced himself to be witty, changed his profile picture to something cute, all in the hopes of attracting Phil's attention once more. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /And it style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Phil started to reply to Dan more and more on twitter, replying to Dan's own tweets as well as the replies Dan had sent him. He began to follow Dan on every social media, to direct message him, to become his style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan's heart still soared with every message from Phil. The two had so much in common, and Dan felt like he had a true friend in Phil. Phil would listen to Dan rant about whatever topic under the theme of existentialism he had chosen to muse on that week was, and likewise Dan would listen to Phil share the woes of being a youtuber; being sent hair in the mail, for example. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan hadn't cut in weeks./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a51ebf19a7dbc27ce682af525879b512"I'd die for youbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /That's easy to saybr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /We have a list of people that we would takebr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /A bullet for thembr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /A bullet for youbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /A bullet for everybody in this room/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4d5f284f52ac480deb32e5c938afafb6"The first time that Dan skyped Phil he was a nervous wreck. He touched his hair every five minutes, hoping to fix any fringe gaps that may have snuck up on him without him noticing. Not that he hadn't spent an hour straightening every hair on his head, of course. Dan stuttered a lot, and he blushed incredibly easily, and Phil seemed to love it. They talked for two hours, without any awkward pauses, or breaks to think about what to say. It was as if they fit together perfectly, a match forged by gods. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan fancied himself in style="box-sizing: border-box;" /If his family noticed the change in his mood then they never commented on it. Families were weird like that. Dan reasoned that not commenting was their way of showing their love for style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan loved them back, though he would never say it out loud./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c1c025b65551900ab04e6c3feed3f314"But I don't seem to see many bullets coming throughbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /See many bullets coming through?br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Metaphorically I'm the manbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /But literally I don't know what I'd do/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="295b5a79ec3ccb1ba51986177b73604f"Dan cried for the first time in months. He had fucked up his friendship with Phil so badly and he didn't know how to fix it. It was an innocent joke, a reply to a tweet that everyone had seen. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan had accidently outed Phil. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Phil had mentioned to Dan, in confidence of course, that he was bisexual, and Dan had felt honoured to know this information. This was a sign of trust, that Phil and Dan were serious best friends, but Dan had gone and fucked up all because of some stupid fucking style="box-sizing: border-box;" / amazingphil - Can't wait to see Muse perform live! Matt Bellamy is my hero! ^w^br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan had fucking tried to be clever. He was still in the habit of stalking Phil's twitter, despite them having been friends for almost two months. He'd thought of a funny reply and those two seconds of inattention had probably cost him his style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Fuckbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" / danisnotonfire - amazingphil your "hero" I get you ;) #Crush #WhoWouldn't? br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan had forgotten that Phil wasn't out yet. Dan had forgotten that people noticed his and Phil's friendship. Dan had forgotten that he was visible now - That what he said mattered. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Instead of trying to fix it, by covering up and saying that he had lied, or was joking, Dan was crying. He had never felt more fucking useless. A familiar friend found its way back into Dan's hand, carving gentle lines into his skin, before he had even rationalised what he was doing. Seven perfect cuts, neat and almost clinical, appeared on Dan's arms while his phone shone with unread notifications from twitter;br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / amazingphil - danisnotonfire Haha Yeah! #ManCrushOfTheCentury/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e3b01da15ec88bfe9d7df1851a55beb4"I'd live for youbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /And that's hard to dobr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Even harder to saybr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /When you know it's not truebr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Even harder to write br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /When you know that tonightbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /There were people back homebr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Who tried talking to you./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7351e2b1728efdd2fd468c1a74d6acdb"It had been inevitable, no matter how long Dan had tried to ignore it. Phil was always going to find out about Dan's cuts. He had tried to downplay it, to ignore it, but it only took his sleeve falling up once when they were skyping for Phil to see and ask him;br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"Dan, what's that on your arm?"br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan was silent. He never had been good at thinking on his feet. His cuts weren't exactly fresh, but they weren't exactly old either. They were red enough that Phil would recognise them for what they were if he saw them clearly, but Dan figured his silence was enough. He avoided Phil's style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"...Oh, Dan."br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Phil spoke so softly that his words broke Dan's heart. He could feel the pity in Phil's voice, washing over him in thick, pressuring style="box-sizing: border-box;" /He disconnected. Phil rung him back a second later, but Dan declined the call. He couldn't deal with people knowing about his cuts. They were his secret, a big fuck you to everyone who had ever cared about him. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /But Dan found himself unable to bring himself to cut again tonight. He knew that that was what he needed, to lose himself in that sweet escape, but all he could picture was Phil's face, the confusion when he saw Dan's wrist, the realisation when he worked out what Dan had been style="box-sizing: border-box;" /He checked his phone. Nothing. He threw it across the room, only to see the screen shatter as it hit the style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"Darling are you alright?" Called his mum from downstairs. Dan was silent./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2d84d7c0e4312f3a4c91e3d3085fc828"But then you ignored them stillbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /All these questions br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /They're for realbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Like who would you live for?br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Who would you die for?br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /And would you ever kill?/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d3f1feab03ec34b85ad0add45d70e951"Phil had been messaging Dan through Twitter for the last half an hour, spamming him with "Dan!"'s and "Talk to me!"'s. Dan read through them all silently, before tapping out a style="box-sizing: border-box;" /-They aren't too recent, don't worry :)br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /He felt that the smiley face was tacky, but he wanted to reassure Phil that he was alright. He was in style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Phil messaged him back instantly, making Dan feel guilty. Phil shouldn't have to worry about him, he didn't deserve to have Dan's problems as well as his own. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /~Dan! Are you alright? I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anythingbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /-Phil you don't need to worry about me! I'm fine! I'm style="box-sizing: border-box;" /~Promise me that you won't try and kill yourself? Dan I don't know what I would do without style="box-sizing: border-box;" /It was a lie, Dan knew that, but a comforting one style="box-sizing: border-box;" /- I'd live for you, Phil Lester. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /That was a lie too, but only a small one. Phil made Dan happy, but he didn't keep Dan style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan honestly didn't know if he wanted to be alive, but Phil certainly helped him feel that he style="box-sizing: border-box;" /~Good. ^-^/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ad7f053db931b344b6585f13a947c142"I'm falling, so I'm taking my time on my ridebr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /I've been thinking too muchbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Help me/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7d24003210834f6de0fbe14aa33a4d77"Dan logged into Skype feeling almost as excited as he did when he first skyped Phil. He had butterflies and tarantulas and lions inside of his tummy, dancing around, making him feel queasy. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan had fallen in love with style="box-sizing: border-box;" /It was both as unexpected and as obvious as the sun rising in the morning. Phil had become Dan's whole life. College meant nothing to him now, work was a joke. Life was so boring compared to the man who sat opposite him through the internet. Phil's face was adorable, his character even more so. He had sat with Dan while Dan had fought the urge to reach for his razors, and he had laughed with Dan about funny videos on youtube. He had become Dan's sun, and now, on the one year anniversary of that simple, meaningful "lol", Phil had told Dan that he had something to tell him. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan knew what that meant. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Phil had fallen in love with him too. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan had taken to memorising every feature of Phil's face, staring at photos for endless hours between their skype calls. He was taken in by the boy's beauty, and Phil had mentioned that he found Dan attractive before too. They were self confessed best friends, together until the style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan waited until he saw Phil's profile turn green before calling him. He bounced in his seat a little while waiting for Phil to pop up on screen. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan felt a punch to his throat when Phil's webcam loaded an image of the beautiful man. He looked positively angelic, a light shining from his window onto his face, illuminating his cheekbones, and carving out his style="box-sizing: border-box;" /He wasn't style="box-sizing: border-box;" /This was the first time that Phil wasn't alone when he had skyped Dan. He wondered why Phil had felt the need to include someone else on their special day. He could feel himself staring, and forced his mouth up into a style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"Phil, Hi! Who's this?" Dan tried to make himself not sound jealous, aiming for more of a curious connotation to the style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"Dan, Hi! This is Chris! He's my big news!" Time stopped for Dan. He felt his heart beating out of his chest, tearing in two and crashing to the floor. This was bad. He mentally begged Phil to stop talking, to not say the words that Dan knew were style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"He's my boyfriend." br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /His ears were ringing. He hadn't blinked in minutes. Phil urged him to say something, but his previous words were all that Dan heard, echoing numbly throughout his head. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"He's my boyfriend."/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2f881e724d78d3b144bdab979150929a"I've been thinking too muchbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Help me/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4a6e55684ed773a73dbc12de1e975e43"Dan signed off without saying anything. He felt like an awful friend, for not being supportive, for not being even the slightest bit happy for Phil. Thoughts blitzed through his brain, destroying any conscious cohesiveness, turning it into a frenzied ball of "Phil" "Phil" "PHIL".br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /One word stood out among the rest. "Blades."br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan entered the bathroom stoically, reaching for the cupboard without any hesitation. He registered on some level that he was unlikely to leave this bathroom of his own willpower. In a body bag, perhaps./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9d77373e7be581c757409002ebb29bb6"I'm fallingbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /So I'm taking my time on my ride/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d7ad5d1731b7bb72fbfd3a151830ee6b"His razor blades had rusted a bit with disuse. They must have gotten damp. It didn't matter. Dan needed to feel something, and if that something was the extra sting of a rusted blade then who was he to complain? He curled up on the bathroom floor, tucking into himself, drawing his knees closer. A small gasp left his lips as he made the first cut. Dan had forgotten how much he had missed the initial rush of endorphins that accompanied his self mutilation. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Seven wasn't going to be enough today, he knew./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="fd521d1fbf88106f2bc42b73927b95cc"I've been thinking too muchbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Help me/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8942daa33a52e04044a52e3cdf5a2f47"Dan slashed at his wrist over and over, hoping to hit his veins enough, to draw enough blood. It wasn't working. He didn't have the guts, or the strength. He realised that his hands were shaking violently. Dan knew he needed more, a backup plan. He turned to the cupboards expectantly. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /In his room Dan's phone hadn't stopped vibrating./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1fe05d2ed7fc89e6448a44554e2f80d7"I've been thinking too muchbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Help me/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="340e1a740c25423a3c5c5453901d990a"He dug through the cupboards, searching for pills, for alcohol, for anything. He turned up some paracetemol (Worthless, He would need to take hundreds), some rubbing alcohol, which he drunk quickly, ignoring the burn in his throat, and three packets of tramadol. That it would be then. He unpopped every pill from the packets and tossed them aside. It took a while to swallow every pill, downing them with the leftover alcohol. He gagged, and his body convulsed, repelling the poison, but Dan forced himself not to throw up, clamping his mouth shut and lying down as the pain in his head got worse and style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Until it disappeared./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="bf4f760f62590896c585bea5b1013ecd"I've been thinking too muchbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Help me/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="55bc0e3478abc4e819df6ac7a39bd63e"It was three am when Phil gave up ringing style="box-sizing: border-box;" /It was three pm when he was told Dan was dead./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="991145f0d79aa21b4708db72a98dc2ea"I've been thinking too muchbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Help me/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ee2165c2dcdb736dc0139cf6500ab5bb"(Thank you for reading! Please leave me some feedback and send me a message letting me know what you thought!)/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5887006a1bb4dd3ce119b22c30d2781c"I just want to stay in the sunbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Where I findbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /I know it's hard sometimesbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Pieces of peace in the Sun's peace of mindbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /I know it's hard sometimes./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7a00fbb59f140a6dee51dd408cde549c"Dan basked in the sunlight, stretching out like a cat, yawns imitating purrs. It was a good morning. A lazy morning. A "staying in bed until midday" morning. It was the kind of morning where Dan could forget that he was alive, where he could lose himself in thoughts and memories of whatever dreams his mind had conjured last night. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /This morning, they were good dreams. Dreams of turning his life around, of momentous moments that made everything seem better, of being happy. Light streamed through his window, illuminating dust particles that danced around Dan's room with a vigour and joy that Dan had never possessed. He forced himself to focus on his dream, and ignore the crushing inevitability of life that was sneaking up in his thoughts. He didn't want to be reminded of his responsibilities. His dream was much more style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Unfamiliar memories of a familiar face, that filled his heart to bursting and inspired him to do something with his life, to become someone worth being. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"It's a nice idea." Dan thought idly. No one that inspirational would want to know him, though. He dismissed the idea in favour of reliving the emotions ignited within him once again. It was a peaceful happiness, but hollow. It wasn't real. Dreams were the ultimate form of escapism, and Dan could do with an style="box-sizing: border-box;" /The sun shone through cracks in Dan's curtain onto his face, and Dan basked in its warmth. College could wait./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="fad20dddfb9821594e2cb617abd15a8f"Yes, I think about the end just way too muchbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /But it's fun to fantasizebr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /On my enemies I wouldn't wish who I wasbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /But it's fun to fantasize./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1ad20a6b61a9dc4514fe28b415c151d8"Dan cried out a little as the razor blade slipped from between his bloodstained fingers, leaving a gouge deeper than the one he had attempted to create. It was an accident, he told himself. He was in control. It was one thing to dream of death, of peaceful quietness, it was another to actually try to kill himself. Seven thin lines and one deep, dark tear marked Dan's skin, covering old scars, coating them in blood and a perpetual sadness that never seemed to leave him, even once the blood was cleared and his arms healed. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"I'll go no more; I am afraid to think what I have done; look on't again I dare not." Dan whispered to himself. He sat, alone, in the dark; for he had no reason to look upon his hatred once it had passed. He was already filled with the highest amount of self loathing, viewing his ugly mistakes would only increase that. He was in control, he told himself. Even when he was in the midst of his darkest, deepest desires, he still managed to be the biggest of Shakespeare nerds. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /He moved to wash himself, to hide the blood that would only raise suspicion and cause alarm. He didn't want to inconvenience his family. Even if it would only be a mild style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"A little water clears us of this deed." A deed soon to be forgotten, hidden under jumpers and long sleeved tops, or bracelets and bands in summer. It was an irony Dan often laughed at, scars and cuts hidden under memories of amazing festivals with friends and laughter. Not that any of those friends cared enough about Dan to talk to him anymore. It was a sad truth that Dan was the friend who was... forgettable. Only invited if he asked to tag along. Only remembered when he screamed for attention. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /He was That friend. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Or at the very least, it felt like he was. He recognised that he was probably more well-liked than he thought, or was that narcissism? Dan didn't care enough to over analyse his mind. He wouldn't wish this fucked up cocktail of neurosis on anyone else, even his bitter enemies. Did he have enemies? Probably not. Hating someone required some level of caring about their existence. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan finished clearing up his mess quickly, and left the room looking as though he hadn't been there at all. As if he didn't exist. He moved to his bed, cradling his arm slightly, and settled in for another night of tedious internet style="box-sizing: border-box;" /AmazingPhil had made a new video./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="81be7969fa73eb4ade32a474d25669a8"Oh I'm fallingbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /So I'm taking my time on my ride/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2939e0c07359ab3c448ce98feb82ee9c"Dan didn't know when his obsession with the AmazingPhil had started, but he knew that it was a big one. Phil had been prioritised in his mind with Shakespeare and Muse as one of the most important things in his life. He was caring and funny, beautiful and sweet. He liked all of the same bands as Dan; Muse, Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance. He was truly (Pun aside) Amazing. His life was not perfect, but interesting. Meaningful. He had impacted so many people's lives and made such a big difference. It was easy for Dan to be captured by Phil's videos, to lose himself in the other boys life. He commented on videos and replied to tweets, along with a sea of other fans. Phil had just over four thousand subscribers on youtube, a number so big that Dan figured his comments would never be seen by style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Until they style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan was woken up at 8:32am by his phone vibrating on his face. He had a twitter notification boldly declaring that amazingphil had replied to his tweet. It was nothing more than a simple "lol", but to Dan it meant the entire world. It was like his life had exploded with a cataclysm of colour, and hope. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan was style="box-sizing: border-box;" /From then on, Dan made sure he replied to every tweet, commented on every video and liked every photo that Phil shared. He forced himself to be witty, changed his profile picture to something cute, all in the hopes of attracting Phil's attention once more. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /And it style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Phil started to reply to Dan more and more on twitter, replying to Dan's own tweets as well as the replies Dan had sent him. He began to follow Dan on every social media, to direct message him, to become his style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan's heart still soared with every message from Phil. The two had so much in common, and Dan felt like he had a true friend in Phil. Phil would listen to Dan rant about whatever topic under the theme of existentialism he had chosen to muse on that week was, and likewise Dan would listen to Phil share the woes of being a youtuber; being sent hair in the mail, for example. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan hadn't cut in weeks./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a51ebf19a7dbc27ce682af525879b512"I'd die for youbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /That's easy to saybr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /We have a list of people that we would takebr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /A bullet for thembr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /A bullet for youbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /A bullet for everybody in this room/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4d5f284f52ac480deb32e5c938afafb6"The first time that Dan skyped Phil he was a nervous wreck. He touched his hair every five minutes, hoping to fix any fringe gaps that may have snuck up on him without him noticing. Not that he hadn't spent an hour straightening every hair on his head, of course. Dan stuttered a lot, and he blushed incredibly easily, and Phil seemed to love it. They talked for two hours, without any awkward pauses, or breaks to think about what to say. It was as if they fit together perfectly, a match forged by gods. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan fancied himself in style="box-sizing: border-box;" /If his family noticed the change in his mood then they never commented on it. Families were weird like that. Dan reasoned that not commenting was their way of showing their love for style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan loved them back, though he would never say it out loud./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c1c025b65551900ab04e6c3feed3f314"But I don't seem to see many bullets coming throughbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /See many bullets coming through?br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Metaphorically I'm the manbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /But literally I don't know what I'd do/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="295b5a79ec3ccb1ba51986177b73604f"Dan cried for the first time in months. He had fucked up his friendship with Phil so badly and he didn't know how to fix it. It was an innocent joke, a reply to a tweet that everyone had seen. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan had accidently outed Phil. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Phil had mentioned to Dan, in confidence of course, that he was bisexual, and Dan had felt honoured to know this information. This was a sign of trust, that Phil and Dan were serious best friends, but Dan had gone and fucked up all because of some stupid fucking style="box-sizing: border-box;" / amazingphil - Can't wait to see Muse perform live! Matt Bellamy is my hero! ^w^br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan had fucking tried to be clever. He was still in the habit of stalking Phil's twitter, despite them having been friends for almost two months. He'd thought of a funny reply and those two seconds of inattention had probably cost him his style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Fuckbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" / danisnotonfire - amazingphil your "hero" I get you ;) #Crush #WhoWouldn't? br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan had forgotten that Phil wasn't out yet. Dan had forgotten that people noticed his and Phil's friendship. Dan had forgotten that he was visible now - That what he said mattered. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Instead of trying to fix it, by covering up and saying that he had lied, or was joking, Dan was crying. He had never felt more fucking useless. A familiar friend found its way back into Dan's hand, carving gentle lines into his skin, before he had even rationalised what he was doing. Seven perfect cuts, neat and almost clinical, appeared on Dan's arms while his phone shone with unread notifications from twitter;br style="box-sizing: border-box;" / amazingphil - danisnotonfire Haha Yeah! #ManCrushOfTheCentury/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e3b01da15ec88bfe9d7df1851a55beb4"I'd live for youbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /And that's hard to dobr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Even harder to saybr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /When you know it's not truebr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Even harder to write br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /When you know that tonightbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /There were people back homebr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Who tried talking to you./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7351e2b1728efdd2fd468c1a74d6acdb"It had been inevitable, no matter how long Dan had tried to ignore it. Phil was always going to find out about Dan's cuts. He had tried to downplay it, to ignore it, but it only took his sleeve falling up once when they were skyping for Phil to see and ask him;br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"Dan, what's that on your arm?"br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan was silent. He never had been good at thinking on his feet. His cuts weren't exactly fresh, but they weren't exactly old either. They were red enough that Phil would recognise them for what they were if he saw them clearly, but Dan figured his silence was enough. He avoided Phil's style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"...Oh, Dan."br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Phil spoke so softly that his words broke Dan's heart. He could feel the pity in Phil's voice, washing over him in thick, pressuring style="box-sizing: border-box;" /He disconnected. Phil rung him back a second later, but Dan declined the call. He couldn't deal with people knowing about his cuts. They were his secret, a big fuck you to everyone who had ever cared about him. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /But Dan found himself unable to bring himself to cut again tonight. He knew that that was what he needed, to lose himself in that sweet escape, but all he could picture was Phil's face, the confusion when he saw Dan's wrist, the realisation when he worked out what Dan had been style="box-sizing: border-box;" /He checked his phone. Nothing. He threw it across the room, only to see the screen shatter as it hit the style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"Darling are you alright?" Called his mum from downstairs. Dan was silent./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2d84d7c0e4312f3a4c91e3d3085fc828"But then you ignored them stillbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /All these questions br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /They're for realbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Like who would you live for?br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Who would you die for?br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /And would you ever kill?/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d3f1feab03ec34b85ad0add45d70e951"Phil had been messaging Dan through Twitter for the last half an hour, spamming him with "Dan!"'s and "Talk to me!"'s. Dan read through them all silently, before tapping out a style="box-sizing: border-box;" /-They aren't too recent, don't worry :)br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /He felt that the smiley face was tacky, but he wanted to reassure Phil that he was alright. He was in style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Phil messaged him back instantly, making Dan feel guilty. Phil shouldn't have to worry about him, he didn't deserve to have Dan's problems as well as his own. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /~Dan! Are you alright? I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anythingbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /-Phil you don't need to worry about me! I'm fine! I'm style="box-sizing: border-box;" /~Promise me that you won't try and kill yourself? Dan I don't know what I would do without style="box-sizing: border-box;" /It was a lie, Dan knew that, but a comforting one style="box-sizing: border-box;" /- I'd live for you, Phil Lester. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /That was a lie too, but only a small one. Phil made Dan happy, but he didn't keep Dan style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan honestly didn't know if he wanted to be alive, but Phil certainly helped him feel that he style="box-sizing: border-box;" /~Good. ^-^/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ad7f053db931b344b6585f13a947c142"I'm falling, so I'm taking my time on my ridebr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /I've been thinking too muchbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Help me/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7d24003210834f6de0fbe14aa33a4d77"Dan logged into Skype feeling almost as excited as he did when he first skyped Phil. He had butterflies and tarantulas and lions inside of his tummy, dancing around, making him feel queasy. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan had fallen in love with style="box-sizing: border-box;" /It was both as unexpected and as obvious as the sun rising in the morning. Phil had become Dan's whole life. College meant nothing to him now, work was a joke. Life was so boring compared to the man who sat opposite him through the internet. Phil's face was adorable, his character even more so. He had sat with Dan while Dan had fought the urge to reach for his razors, and he had laughed with Dan about funny videos on youtube. He had become Dan's sun, and now, on the one year anniversary of that simple, meaningful "lol", Phil had told Dan that he had something to tell him. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan knew what that meant. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Phil had fallen in love with him too. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan had taken to memorising every feature of Phil's face, staring at photos for endless hours between their skype calls. He was taken in by the boy's beauty, and Phil had mentioned that he found Dan attractive before too. They were self confessed best friends, together until the style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan waited until he saw Phil's profile turn green before calling him. He bounced in his seat a little while waiting for Phil to pop up on screen. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan felt a punch to his throat when Phil's webcam loaded an image of the beautiful man. He looked positively angelic, a light shining from his window onto his face, illuminating his cheekbones, and carving out his style="box-sizing: border-box;" /He wasn't style="box-sizing: border-box;" /This was the first time that Phil wasn't alone when he had skyped Dan. He wondered why Phil had felt the need to include someone else on their special day. He could feel himself staring, and forced his mouth up into a style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"Phil, Hi! Who's this?" Dan tried to make himself not sound jealous, aiming for more of a curious connotation to the style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"Dan, Hi! This is Chris! He's my big news!" Time stopped for Dan. He felt his heart beating out of his chest, tearing in two and crashing to the floor. This was bad. He mentally begged Phil to stop talking, to not say the words that Dan knew were style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"He's my boyfriend." br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /His ears were ringing. He hadn't blinked in minutes. Phil urged him to say something, but his previous words were all that Dan heard, echoing numbly throughout his head. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /"He's my boyfriend."/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="2f881e724d78d3b144bdab979150929a"I've been thinking too muchbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Help me/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4a6e55684ed773a73dbc12de1e975e43"Dan signed off without saying anything. He felt like an awful friend, for not being supportive, for not being even the slightest bit happy for Phil. Thoughts blitzed through his brain, destroying any conscious cohesiveness, turning it into a frenzied ball of "Phil" "Phil" "PHIL".br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /One word stood out among the rest. "Blades."br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Dan entered the bathroom stoically, reaching for the cupboard without any hesitation. He registered on some level that he was unlikely to leave this bathroom of his own willpower. In a body bag, perhaps./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9d77373e7be581c757409002ebb29bb6"I'm fallingbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /So I'm taking my time on my ride/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d7ad5d1731b7bb72fbfd3a151830ee6b"His razor blades had rusted a bit with disuse. They must have gotten damp. It didn't matter. Dan needed to feel something, and if that something was the extra sting of a rusted blade then who was he to complain? He curled up on the bathroom floor, tucking into himself, drawing his knees closer. A small gasp left his lips as he made the first cut. Dan had forgotten how much he had missed the initial rush of endorphins that accompanied his self mutilation. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Seven wasn't going to be enough today, he knew./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="fd521d1fbf88106f2bc42b73927b95cc"I've been thinking too muchbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Help me/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="8942daa33a52e04044a52e3cdf5a2f47"Dan slashed at his wrist over and over, hoping to hit his veins enough, to draw enough blood. It wasn't working. He didn't have the guts, or the strength. He realised that his hands were shaking violently. Dan knew he needed more, a backup plan. He turned to the cupboards expectantly. br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /In his room Dan's phone hadn't stopped vibrating./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="1fe05d2ed7fc89e6448a44554e2f80d7"I've been thinking too muchbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Help me/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="340e1a740c25423a3c5c5453901d990a"He dug through the cupboards, searching for pills, for alcohol, for anything. He turned up some paracetemol (Worthless, He would need to take hundreds), some rubbing alcohol, which he drunk quickly, ignoring the burn in his throat, and three packets of tramadol. That it would be then. He unpopped every pill from the packets and tossed them aside. It took a while to swallow every pill, downing them with the leftover alcohol. He gagged, and his body convulsed, repelling the poison, but Dan forced himself not to throw up, clamping his mouth shut and lying down as the pain in his head got worse and style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Until it disappeared./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="bf4f760f62590896c585bea5b1013ecd"I've been thinking too muchbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Help me/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="55bc0e3478abc4e819df6ac7a39bd63e"It was three am when Phil gave up ringing style="box-sizing: border-box;" /It was three pm when he was told Dan was dead./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="991145f0d79aa21b4708db72a98dc2ea"I've been thinking too muchbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /Help me/p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ee2165c2dcdb736dc0139cf6500ab5bb"(Thank you for reading! Please leave me some feedback and send me a message letting me know what you thought!)/p