Yay-ah! Chapter three! Sorry this took so long. I didn't have internet access for a while, and then I was on vacation for a week. I'm so so sorry! Forgive me? :3 Also, sorry, this chapter has swearing, themes of existential crisis, and self-harm. Don't like, don't read! Don't say I didn't warn you!

WARNING: TRIGGERS AHEAD

Dan

I tried to hold in the scream in the back of my throat as I walked through the halls of the hell that is high school. I hated it. I hated myself. I hated this whole damn world. What's the point? I thought angrily, kicking at someone's long-forgotten pencil, watching it roll before it disappeared in the crowd. I was alone, suffocating in a sea of faces. No one liked me. I wasn't special in any way. I didn't have any friends, and everyone thought I was "an emo fag with no life". Which is true, I guess. Why am I even here? Why is ANYONE here? I just wanted to go home. Home. Just saying that word relaxes me. I wanted to go home, to my warm bed and my laptop and my razor.

Yep, that's right. I'm a cutter. Cutting is the only way I can feel okay about all the shit going on around me. You're such an emo, Dan, a voice inside me whispered. Yeah that's right. Go crawling back to the cutting. Because that's going to solve all your problems. It did last time for sure. "Shut up, brain," I thought back.

School couldn't end fast enough for me. As soon as I got off the bus,I slammed the front door behind me, ran up the stairs, and threw my bag on the floor of my already messy bedroom. I kicked my shoes off before climbing into my warm, cozy bed.

I pulled my laptop into my lap and snuggled in, clicking the YouTube bookmark in my browser. What I saw next had me fangirling, biting my knuckles to keep in a high-pitched squeal. AmazingPhil had posted his new video! I immediately clicked on it and let everything around me melt as I focused on the perfect boy on the other side of the screen. I was hypnotized. I listened to his smooth, deep voice, watched the curves and planes of his tall, lean, pale, perfect body. My gaze moved up his defined jawline, to his lips (God, those lips), the faint, healthy flush to his cheeks, his raven hair framing his perfection like an expensive frame encasing a priceless painting. Finally, my eyes dropped to his. Even though I was practically his biggest fan (I stalked his social media…hehehe) his eyes never failed to leave me breathless. They were fucking oceans, for God's sake! He was so perfect. And he couldn't even see it. I wanted to hug him, to kiss him, to tell him I loved him until he got annoyed by it. I wanted to cuddle and sleep with him at night. But that was impossible. He didn't even know I existed.

Oh God no. This can't be happening. I sound like a lovesick schoolgirl! What the hell is wrong with me? I thought in disgust. I mean, seriously, what the fuck? Why HIM, of all people? He's so straight! You can tell just by looking at him! Besides, even if he was, why would he ever want someone like me? He is perfection, and I'm just plain, boring, ugly Dan. Why did this have to happen to me? I had never met him, he was four years older than me, and he wouldn't give a damn anyway! Get over yourself, Dan. You're just an ugly fag and no one gives a fuck about you. Why do you still care?

I felt tears start to prick my eyes. The weakness spilled over and out onto my cheeks. How can I go from happy to sad so quickly? My legs started to itch uncomfortably. Not today, Dan. You've done it twice this week already, I scolded myself. I laughed out loud suddenly. This whole thing was so stupid and goddamn pointless. Why are you fighting yourself about this? Go get the knife, you little pussy, I told myself. My body had no choice but to obey. I reached into the bottom drawer of my nightstand and fished around until I felt the familiar plastic handle press into my palm, almost like it was eager for me to use it.

I rolled up my pant leg, exposing a messy jumble of scars. I had never really been careful when it came to cutting, and I sure as hell wasn't about to start now. I hissed as the blade touched my leg, the skin splitting in two beneath it, leaving an angry red, dripping gash. The feeling relaxed me and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in. I made another cut, higher than the first, then another, and another. I felt some newly healed scars open again as I crisscrossed the blade across my legs. Good, I thought bitterly. Let it happen. The cutting soothed my frayed nerves, like an echo of happier times.

By the time I was done, my legs were a bloody mess of skin and my bedsheets were absolutely soaked. "Crap!" I said, standing up quickly. I winced. I had forgotten about my legs. "Ow, ow, ow," I limped to the bathroom to clean myself up. I turned on the bath and stepped in, letting the water wash away the blood that wasn't clotting. The bathwater ran red. I watched in sick fascination as the bloody water swirled around my feet, slowly cleaning my legs of the blood and the sins I had committed.

This was getting dangerous. I couldn't hide this for much longer. "What am I gonna do?" I whispered, feeling tears grow in my eyes, threatening to spill over. "I can't live like this anymore."

Wow. Way too many italics in this chapter. Italic abuse. Sorry. :3 And yes, Dan has more mood swings than a pregnant teenager.

DISCLAIMER! I am definitely not saying that this has/does/did/will happen anytime, and I am not saying I want it to happen. It's just a story! God! :d

See you next time, Phancakes! :3