This is my first phanfic/fic about depression and I hope it turns out alright.


When Dan got home after yet another day at University, mentally and physically exhausted, the lights in the houses were not switched on. Which meant Phil was not back from that overseas trip yet.

Dan dragged himself to his room where he collapsed on his bed, flung his bag to the far corner of his room, and he unbuttoned his uncomfortable shirt, leaving him in a plain black T-Shirt and his black skinny jeans.

The bullies had become worse and they, in addition to whispering mean little phrases in his ear all the way home, had started to tease him physically, cleverly attacking him in places that were not normally visible, punching his back or kicking his stomach. The people at University were nice, but they were not very close, maybe the odd classmate or the people he used to live with. They were Dan's acquaintances, not really involved in the more private aspect of Dan's life.

Usually, Phil was there to listen to his troubles and calm him down when he got home; fussing over him until he was at least feeling better, but Phil was not home now. And Phil might not even come back home until the next day, and Dan had to be alone until then.

Dan, realizing this, stayed lying in the same position, half hanging out of the low bed, not noticing the soft ticking of the clock or the way the shadows slowly moved across his room, or the bright orange hues of the setting sun, or even the stars that were starting to emerge in the sky. He was not thinking about anything, nor was he caring about anything

Dan, the once cheerful and buoyant teen, who was always brimming with things to say, had given up on life.


This the first chapter of this story, and I hope you liked it! :)

I swear the next chapter will be longer.

Please leave a review and constructive feedback.