It's Wednesday and I haven't been to school all week. I haven't talked to Phil since yesterday, which was the first time since Saturday morning when I saw him on my birthday, I promised him I would come over and see him after school, but I'm scared. Mum and Jamie haven't made me go because I still have very visible bruises, "love bites", on my neck and the last thing I want is for anyone to see them, especially Phil. At least things are out in the open now, though. I make that sound like it's a good thing. It's really not. It's uncomfortable as hell, but I promised PJ that I'd try to 'stay positive', but it's really hard to stay positive when you weren't at all positive in the first place.

"Received 3:24pm – Phil: I missed you again today, but I just got home, so I'll see you soon?"

"Sent 3:25pm – To Phil: Yeah, I'll leave in about five minutes. Love you!"

"Sent 3:25pm – To Peej: I'm leaving to go to Phil's now, I'll be gone by the time you get home."

"Received 3:28pm – Peej: Alright, I haven't spoken to him about anything, so he's probably got some questions…"

I slip on my shoes, grab my keys and lock the front door behind me before lazily walking down the street and round the corner to Phil's house. I flick my collar upwards to hide the marks on my neck that still haven't entirely faded. I was really hoping they'd be gone by now, but he did suck on the skin really hard, so I don't think I should expect them to be gone for another few days. I knock on the door and Phil answers, greeting me with a longing smile and a hug.
"I've missed you," he sighs as his embrace tightens for a moment, "How come you haven't been at school, are you alright? PJ said that he couldn't talk about it,"
"I've missed you too," I smile as we walk into the living room of the house, "I thought I'd almost forgotten what your hugs felt like, and honestly, I never want to be without them again," I chuckle.
"How are you, princess?"
"I'm alright, I um, I wasn't before, but I'm feeling a lot better now," I tell him.

"Were you sick?" he enquires, and I shake my head as he seats me on the couch. He moves to the kitchen and pours a couple of glasses of water, handing me mine from over my shoulder as he stands behind me.
"Something happened, I don't really want to get too much into it, but I just…"
"Dan, what's on your neck?" he asks suddenly, he must've noticed the hickeys from where he's standing. No, no, no! I drop my head and let out a sigh as he turns down my collar and looks at all three of them. "Is this why you didn't want to see me? They look more than a few days old and they weren't here when I last saw you…" he sounds hurt.
"Yeah, but-"
"But what? What the hell, Dan?" he demands, walking around the couch to face me now, "Who did this? Are you seeing someone else? Why would you let them do this, especially knowing that other people, including myself – your boyfriend – would see them? That's not only hurtful, Dan, but it's disrespectful!"

"Phil, I didn't… I'm not…" I try, but I don't know how to explain because I can't tell him the truth, he'll hate me! He'll think I'm even more disgusting than if I had cheated on him! I'm trying to think of an answer, I'm trying and struggling to find an explanation, but there's nothing and I don't know what to do. His expression hurts me, I hate that he feels so hurt and betrayed, I hate that he thinks that I could do something like that to him, I hate that my father did this to me, I hate that I let him! I hate everything! My lip wobbles and tears brim in my eyes for a moment before streaming down my cheeks,
"Don't cry, Dan," Phil says bluntly, his voice completely devoid of emotion, but I know he's upset, and who would blame him?

"Phil, I didn't cheat on you!" I tell him, and he looks at me, awaiting my elaboration,
"Then explain these," he stresses, pointing to the marks on my flesh that I had hoped would have disappeared by now.
"I- I can't, Phil… Please, just…" I choke, but he doesn't care. He's listening, but every word that he hears seems to hurt him more, I don't have an explanation. I may as well have cheated on him. This is all my own fault anyway, in fact, technically I did cheat on him. I did. I deserve this. I deserve worse than this, and Phil deserves better than me. His eyes stare me down, he looks like he's going to be sick and finally, he speaks,
"No. I think you should leave, Daniel."

I wipe my face and nod, letting in a shuddery breath as I stand up and let myself out, leaving a teary Phil behind me. He's never going to forgive me. Why would he? If it were reversed, I'd be crushed. I quickly unlock the front door of my house, even more upset that I wasn't hit by a car or something on my walk home, my hands are shaking and I notice that no one's been home yet. I'm alone. I'm all alone, and I don't know if I love it or hate it. How could I have let this happen? Why couldn't I have tried harder to get away?! Why did I let it happen?! I obviously didn't want to get away! He was right. Dad was right, I liked it. I wanted it. I missed him. I did get hard when he touched me, I had to have wanted it. It was just as much me as it was him. This is my own fault, and now I've fucked everything up! I cheated on my boyfriend with my own father. I ruined everything good I had in my fucking pathetic excuse for a life! I hate it! I hate! I HATE IT! IT'S DISGUSTING! I'M DISGUSTING!

I scream as loudly as I can, unable to contain it all anymore, and I throw myself at the floor, heaving and hyperventilating. I'm disgusting. I'm pathetic. I hate myself. This has ruined everything! Mum was crying. She was CRYING! I made her cry! I've ruined her life! I ruined her relationship with dad, I'm the reason he left and she knows why now. She's pretending not to hate me because she's better than that, she's a good person and she doesn't want to hurt me, but she does. She hates me. How have I managed to get to this? Just a few months ago I was fine! I was back on track, everything was fucking okay! But no, I couldn't possibly let myself have a fucking simple existence, could I!? No! I had to get depressed again because I'm a miserable little fuck that can't even get up in the mornings without contemplating death! I had to be gay, because of course I'm a fucking faggot; I can't even the whole dating-the-opposite-sex-in-order-to-reproduce thing right! I had to let my dad do those things to me, and I just had to get aroused. I'm fucking sick.

Now mum hates me, and she's sad, and she's worried, and Phil hates me, and soon enough PJ will hate me because I'm just annoying and depressed and leaving him in a constant state of anxiety. Jamie's probably sick of me and my problems too, and I'm not even his real son so he's under no obligation to love or care about me. I wish I died when I took those pills. I can't even fucking kill myself right! I cough a few times after choking on my own tears and I pick myself up off of the tiles of the entrance hall and I drag myself into the kitchen, flinging open the small cupboard above the fridge where mum and Jamie keep the general household medications. I pull down the box they're all kept in and rummage around, pulling out the paracetamol and ibuprofen, along with all the vitamins – they're of no use to me.

I find what I'm looking for, the prescription pain-killers, the sleeping pills that I'm not allowed to keep in my bedroom anymore, the- actually, I don't need anything else. Actually, no. I do. I grab my anti-depressants before throwing everything I don't need back into the box and replacing it back in the cupboard and heading into to the small bar by the dining room and grabbing the first bottle I see, taking it upstairs with me. I shut my bedroom door, there's no lock anymore, but it doesn't matter because I press my back up against it and slide down to the ground. I'm not hyperventilating anymore, but the tears definitely haven't stopped. I'm shaking. I grab my phone, I need to tell someone. I need help. Shakily, I unlock it, but I don't know what to do. Who do I call? Who do I text? No one cares, no one wants me, and no one will come to help me. It doesn't matter anymore.

"Received 5:09pm – PJ: Phil just called me, are you okay? He doesn't know about your dad, okay? I told him you didn't cheat on him and he's still hurt but he wants to talk to you."

"Received 5:32pm – PJ: Hello? I'm almost home, I'm assuming that's where you are?"

I tip the pain killers pills from their bottle into the white bottle of sleeping pills, before popping my anti-depressants from their foil packaging and just staring at them in my palm. I have to do this. I have to do it. Right now. Do it, Dan! For once in your life, Daniel, just don't be so selfish! This is for them! You're doing this for them! DO IT! DO IT, NOW! Do it and it all stops. Come on! I let out a shaky breath. If I do this now then it all goes away. Everyone will be okay, everyone will be better off, they won't have to put up with me anymore. It'll be okay. I'm making things right, I'm doing the right thing. I grab the bottle I stole from the bar downstairs, looking at it for the first time. Whiskey. I take a sip and place it between my legs before swallowing my handful of tablets. That's it. I took my anti-depressants, maybe now I won't be so fucking miserable and pathetic. I can't help but laugh, and I don't know why, but it's all just so funny, isn't it?

"Received 5:41pm – Phil: I'm sorry… I think I maybe overreacted, I didn't give you a chance to explain anything… I'm sorry. I love you, okay? Are you alright?"

"Sent 5:42pm – To Phil: I'm not alright. It's too late, I'm sorry for fucking everything up."

"Missed Call 5:42pm – Phil (Phil Lester 3)."

"Missed Call 5:42pm – Phil (Phil Lester 3)."

"Missed Call 5:43pm – Phil (Phil Lester 3)."

"Received 5:43pm – Phil: I'm coming over, don't go anywhere. What have you done? Don't you dare do anything else, Daniel, do you understand me? I love you so much."

"Dan? Are you home?" I can hear PJ call from the front hall, "Dan?"
I contemplate calling out to him, but if feels like there's something in my throat and suddenly I'm very nauseous. I take my fourth sip from the glass bottle, admiring the pretty patterns in the glass and the colour of the liquid. I pour several of the pills, the mixture of pain killers and sleeping pills, into my mouth and swallow them down with the alcohol. It's nice. It's nice knowing that nothing matters anymore. It's a good feeling, and I wish I had this kind of clarity the first time I tried something like this. Nothing matters. It's all irrelevant. It's pointless. The point of existence is to do that, exist – to live and then die – I've found the meaning of life, I'm fulfilling it and it feels so damn good, so I take some more.

"Received: 5:45pm – Peej: Are you not home? Are you back at Phil's?"

"Missed Call 5:45pm – Peej (PJ Liguori)."

"Received 5:47pm – Peej: I'm coming to Phil's, why aren't you guys answering your phones?"

The front door unlocks downstairs and there are voices down stairs. The loud clomping on the stairs is quickly replaced by hurried footsteps – running – and then a banging on my door. There are words being spoken, but I can hear nothing but movement, nothing but my own breath. The door handle above me rattles, I'm still up against the door, and the second they start to push I'm moved with it. I mustn't've really thought that part through. I sort of slump a little more as they push the door open further, the world is really nice from this angle, I think. PJ's down in front of me, swearing about something and looking into my eyes, I think he's saying my name. I could have sworn there was two of him, but where's the other one?

"PJ," I slur, "PJ, where's the- where- where's the other you?"
"The other- Ugh, Dan… What are you-" PJ answers, his expression very annoyed, but then his face changes, he looks sad and scared, "Phil's here too."
"I really- Phil's really nice," I murmur, and PJ suddenly looks very far away,
"Yes! Yes, he is, he's very nice!" his voice picks up, it's almost like how one would talk to a baby or a dog, "If you keep your eyes open, you can see him! How does that sound?"

My head rolls forward and there a fingers pushing it up again, but when my eyes start searching, PJ's not there. It's someone with black hair, wide, azure eyes, searching my eyes for me. For the me that he knows, because he's not here anymore. He's searching for the boy that sat with him in the disabled bathroom at school, for the boy that ran into him in the hallway, for the boy that sits on his couch and spews taunts and ridicule about how badly he plays Mario Kart. He's looking for the boy that kisses him mid-sentence, for the boy that cuddles up to him and whines when he's not enveloped in a hug, for the boy that cried within the first ten minutes when the two of them watched UP together. That's the boy he wants, not the dizzy mess on the floor in front of him. I blink a few times and my vision clears for a moment,

"Phil?" I breathe, and he's nodding, he's blinking back tears,
"Hey, kitten," he sighs, "Did you drink all of this?" he asks, holding up the empty bottle, and I shake my head, "There's an empty box and an empty bottle of pills here, did you take all these?"
"N-no," I stammer, uncoordinatedly pulling the other bottle with a the majority of the white, chalky tablets inside from behind me. I don't really know how it got there, but it's been poking into the back of my hip since the door pushed me over here, "I-I mixed them together and took some."
"Okay," he says, "How're you feeling? The ambulance is coming, alright?"
"Why?"
"Sweetie, if you fall asleep, you probably won't wake up. I want you to wake up," he says, "I want you to be okay. I love you, Dan…" He's lying to me. He feels obligated to help me, it's the human thing to do. He doesn't really love me, he's just trying to make to fight to stay conscious.

"No…" I complain, "I want to die."
"Daniel, you will stop that right now or god help me…" I hear PJ mutter loudly from somewhere just out of my sight and then Phil becomes dull and blurry.
"Dan, baby, I really do love you, okay? Please don't leave me… Please…" Phil's crying, he's shaking. Everything becoming cloudier, darker, reality is become as dismal as the inside of my mind and I don't stop it. All I can focus on is the blurry Phil in front of me, he's hyperventilating, he's panicking and I can't help him! I can't do anything! I'm sorry, Phil! I'm sorry! My eyelids flutter and droop against my will, and I can feel PJ's hands on my shoulders. My head's moving back and forth as someone shakes me, I faintly hear my name, and a strange, very, very, distant siren. Words become sound, sounds become waves of energy that are just out of my reach, and the numbing murkiness washes over me, encompassing my entire being in darkness. Then nothing.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
"You're Daniel's mother?" a woman's voice asks, it's sweet and calming,
"Yes, yes, I'm his mum," mum's distraught voice answers. She sounds like she's been crying, where am I? What happened?
"Alright, Mrs Howell-"
"It's Mrs Liguori," mum interjects quickly, but politely,
"Sorry, Mrs Liguori," the woman corrects herself, "Like the doctor would have told you last night, he should be awake soon. According to the doctor's notes, he should wake up at some point this morning, and if he doesn't, Dr Reynolds will investigate further. I'm sorry I can't be more help,"
"Okay… Alright, thank you," mum sighs. I want to call out to her, but I can't. I want to move, but nothing's working.

Two sets of footsteps exit the room and I know that I'm alone. All I can hear now is the beeping of a machine, footsteps in what I'm assuming is a hallway or something not too far away, and light chatter in the distance. I know exactly where I am. I've been here before. The hospital. Wait. No. No, no, no! This means I'm alive… This means that I've-
"He's in here," another voice speaks, interrupting my thoughts. I'm not sure how long it's been exactly since mum and, whom I'm assuming was, a nurse were in here. "He hasn't woken up yet…" It's PJ! It's PJ's voice! Oh no… I've done it again. I've fucking traumatised him.
"Is he going to be okay?" another male voice asks, and it takes me a second, but realise who it is. It's Phil. It's Phil! He's here to see me! Wait, what if he hates me? Fucking hell, I'm so sorry for everything…"

"The doctor says he should be alright once he wakes up. I'm gonna be out by the vending machines in the waiting room with mum, see you in a bit?" PJ says,
"Yeah, thanks…" Phil sighs.
"Come get me if you need me," PJ says and the click of the door sounds throughout the room. I hear the squeak of leather and I assume that means he's taken a seat on one of those ugly blue or mustard-yellow chairs that are usually by hospital beds. Speaking of ugly, I probably look terrible right now. Blood hell. Phil takes a deep breath and I feel him take my hand. I wish I could hug him and tell him how sorry I am, beg him to forgive me, anything! If I could just fucking wake up properly! This must be what it's like for coma patients. Oh no. Am I in a coma? What if I never wake up? I'll never be able to tell them I love them again… None of them. Not mum, not Phil, not PJ, not Jamie… I'll never meet the baby!

"Dan, I am so fucking angry at you," Phil says suddenly, his voice low and wispy. "Not the bad kind of angry though. I'm the kind of angry where I just want to cry, and scream. It's scary, you know? Watching your boyfriend just slip away entirely. You were completely unresponsive, you were just slumped there. I love you so much and you were just… you weren't there anymore. The second you told me you wanted to die, my heart broke into a million pieces and I knew that you were gone. You weren't there anymore, Dan…" he squeaks, "I thought I would never get to hold your hand, or kiss your face, or hold you again, and I just- I broke. You were dying and I was having an anxiety attack," he chuckles a little, "If PJ wasn't there, I don't know what would have happened. It's a miracle that I ran into him on the way over because if I was by myself I would have just died. Wait, no. Not died. I don't mean that. Damn it… Sorry, I didn't mean it like that, I meant like- God damn it…"

He's entirely adorable and I can't help but laugh at him. Wait. I laughed! Sort of, I let out one of those breaths that's like a laugh, but still, I did something!
"Dan?" Phil says, "Dan, are you aliv- I mean, awake? Don't fuck with me, Daniel." I focus all my energy into moving a finger, a single finger, any part of my hand, and after a minute or so of nothing, it works. I tighten a finger around his pinkie and he gasps, "You can hear me…" he whispers, and I can tell he's doing his gorgeous smile, "Okay, here's some incentive to wake up," he says, "I spoke to your parents and they're not angry with you, I know you're probably worried about that, trust me, I worry about everything and I know that's what would worry me. PJ's okay. He's not freaked out, he's just worried about you. They all still love you. I love you also, I'm, needless to say, worried, but I love you. Oh, and yesterday was the first time I saw your room since you put up my colourings… I didn't think you would, but I'm glad you did."

I concentrate, mustering everything I have in me to speak his name or open my eyes. First though, I manage the latter. I'm greeted with a lot of white. White blankets on me, white walls with a grey-blue rail-stripe thing along all the walls, a white sink in the corner with a pink soap and clear hand sanitiser mounted on the wall, and bright white lights on the ceiling. I scan the room until I see Phil sitting next to me, his hand in mine and facing out the window. Now that my eyes are open it's easy to keep them as such and slowly my limbs follow suit and I'm able to wiggle my toes and rotate the shoulder on the other side to Phil.
"It's weird how you're not even awake and they put you in a room with a nice view of the park across the street, the ducks are all in the lake thing and I think a little boy just fell over," he chuckles, "Aw, he's crying! Don't cry little child, look at the ducks! They'll cheer you up!"

"I think I have a better view," I croak with a grin, and he flashes around with a happy, surprised look on his face.
"You're awake! You're awake! How are you feeling? Oh my god, Dan, I love you so much," he gushes, wrapping his arms around me and kissing my cheek and then my lips, catching me completely by surprise,
"I heard you before," I say quietly, "I'm so sorry, Phil…"
"I know," he whispers, squeezing me tightly, "I know you are, no one's mad at you, okay? We understand, we know you're going through a lot, we're just terrified that we're going to lose you. We just want you to be okay…"
"I love you."
"I know, darling," he kisses my forehead, "I love you too. Does your stomach hurt?"
"Yeah, how'd you know?" I ask,
"They pumped your stomach," he shrugs, "I've heard it's not entirely pleasant afterward."

"Phil?" I murmur, "I'm scared… What's going to happen now?"
"Your d- Jamie told me about what happened last time and that you're probably going to have to stay in longer this time because it's more than just a one-off thing or something…"
"Am I officially a crazy person, then?"
"Yes," he nods, his mouth a flat line, "You're getting the certificate tomorrow. The queen's coming to present it, it's a real honour."
"Oh, good," I chuckle,
"Dan… what happened?"
"Well, I tried to kill myself with anti-depressants. They didn't kill me, but the irony might," I laugh. Phil shakes his head with a breathy snicker before looking at me seriously,
"What I meant was," he sighs with a smile, obviously trying to keep things light, "What was going on up here?" he asks, kissing my temple.

"Everything," I breathe, "All the things I've told you about before, all my worries, everything, Phil, and more."
"Like what, sweet pea?"
"My dad…" I exhale, preparing myself for his reaction when I tell him the truth. He's probably going to get up and leave, never to talk to me again.
"Love, you've told me about him before," he says and I shake my head,
"Phil, I didn't cheat on you, not really…"
"Baby, I know… I'm sorry I thought that you did, and I'm sorry I reacted like that, but I love you and I trust you, and I know that you wouldn't do that… I'm so sorry that I triggered all of this…" he says, holding my hand to his chest, and I smile as I feel the beating of his heat.

"No, Phil, it wasn't you, at all. I swear!" I assure him, "The marks on my neck…"
"Don't worry, Dan, I know you-" Phil tries, but I interrupt him,
"Phil, they're from my dad."
"…What?"
"I didn't call you, see you, or go to school because on my way home from your house on Saturday, m-my dad approached me. He talked to me and I told him I wanted to leave and just go home," my eyes begin to water and Phil's face is soft yet intense as the tears start to fall, "But he grabbed me and forced me into his car… I don't know where he was going to take me or-" I squeeze Phil's hand and look into his eyes for a second before looking away, "But he- he attacked me in the car and… did these," I say, gesturing to the marks, "Among other things…"

"Daniel… Oh my god…" Phil says, shocked and struggling to put together a sentence, "Why would he- I just… I don't- I don't understand…"
"When I was little, my dad used to make excuses to my mum as to why he had to come into my room at night. He used to touch me…. Make me touch him, make me do things to him… and then- and then he- he started… having sex with me."
"Dan…" Phil whispers, taken aback and totally speechless, he thinks I'm filthy, revolting even.
"I know, I'm disgusting, I'm sorry for wasting your time," I apologise,
"What? No! Dan," he takes my hand in both of his, "What he did to you is not your fault, do you understand me? You were a little kid, what he did to you is wrong, and he, and what he did to you, are disgusting, but you… you're not, Dan. It wasn't you."

"You don't understand, Phil…" I sob, quickly wiping the tears from my cheek, but it's useless because their immediately replaced by a new stream of tears, "When he attacked me last week… I was- I got hard…"
"That doesn't fucking matter," Phil barks, "That doesn't mean you want it any more so than I want to sneeze when I happen to breathe in dust or something. It's just a reaction that you had no control over, there's nothing wrong with you, baby. I love you, and I'm so sorry that you had to go through all of that… I'm so, so, sorry… After he attacked you on Saturday, what happened to him, where is he now?"
"Jamie broke his nose, knocked out one of his teeth and bruised his ribs," I smile, "It shouldn't make me happy, but it really does," I chuckle, "He was brought into hospital and then on Monday they locked him up. He can't afford bail or anything, so until trial he's in gaol or something, I guess."

"Okay, good. You're safe then," he sighs, "Is this why you didn't want to go too far into anything, like, whenever we were getting heated or anything, because of what he did to you?"
"Yeah…"
"I need you to know that we're never going to do anything that you don't want to. Ever. You never have to do anything you don't want to, with me or anyone else, alright? You tell me to stop and I will always stop. If we wait three months before we go any further than what we have, that's fine. If we wait three years, that's just as fine. If you want to take a step or two back from what we've already done, we can do that too, there is no problem, do you understand?" he says purposefully, and I nod, beaming, because I can't help but see almost every single thing about him that made me fall in love with him in the first place.

"I brought you a colouring book," he says after a few empty moments, "I've done the first page and the last page, the two centre pages, the rest can keep you busy while you're in here," he says, handing me his pencil case with a book and colour pencils inside, and now I can see everything I've ever loved about him. He's quirky, and he's sweet, and he makes me feel safe.
"Thank you," I murmur with a smile on my face, I reach up at him making grabby hands and he wraps me in a hug. I kiss his cheek and turn his face to hover right in front of mine before I kiss him fervently, feeling ever nerve in my body burn with lust, and love, and passion, and trust. We break away and just stare into each other for a moment, searching each other's eyes for everything we've ever known about one another.
"Hi," he whispers, capturing my lips in a quick kiss before returning to look into my eyes, "You're definitely in there today, and I've never been more thankful."