dan stormed down the hall, his clenched fists swinging at his sides. who the hell did he think he was? he didn't have the right to touch dan like that, no one did. dan was so upset he could scream.

he pushed through the heavy front doors with a bit of effort, letting out a soft huff, and marched in the direction of the huge football field. anywhere to be alone.

he ran his fingers through his hair as he walked, tugging at the tangles.

dan felt like falling apart, like crying and screaming and having the loudest tantrum. he held it in, taking a deep breath.

why did phil feel like he had the right to waltz right into dan's shitty situation and make him actually feel something, but be a total dick about it? why couldn't it be a nice guy, who showered him in love and praise and made him feel that way?

dan sighed, plopping down in the slightly dewey grass, probably getting his jeans hopelessly damp.

and how could phil assume he knew everything about him? he had had a few lucky guesses, sure, but he didn't know anything. how could he think he could assume what was going on in dan's family life?

dan shivered, pulling his knees to his chest. phil was wrong, about everything. dan wasn't bored of life, he just couldn't experience life anymore, and his family didn't ignore him even though he really wished they did. they beat him for getting b's or being out too late or even smelling like smoke, and then showered him in expensive gifts and new clothes to balance it out.

when dan was little he hadn't thought it was abuse. he had asked his school counselor and gotten laughed at. 'maybe you're just being naughty' she had said. 'maybe you deserve a little bit of punishment so you can learn.'

but did dan deserve to get lashed every day for the slightest mistake? or locked in the closet for the night with the bulbs taken out of all the lights? but dan was almost used to it.

the sick thing was that dan nearly looked forward to these beatings at this point. he was so desperate to feel anything that he got a rush of adrenaline before any abuse.

dan sighed shakily, letting his head fall into his hands. he was so fucked up. why had phil had to be there? he could've done it, he could've
jumped and maybe phil was wrong, maybe he would've died.

dan didn't even think about it before pulling his hand back and thrusting it against himself, punching himself in the stomach as hard as he could manage. it knocked the breath out of him but only gave him a short lived sting. he didn't even realize he was crying until a teardrop landed on his knee. he stared at the spot, watching others join it as he let his tears fall, not bothering to wipe them away.

he just wanted to be alone, he wanted peace. he couldn't find it here. not having feelings wasn't peaceful as it might sound, it felt like hell. it was boring and absolutely torturous.

phil was wrong about him. he wasn't bored, he wasn't a spoiled little rich kid who just didn't get enough attention or enough pussy. he was in pain, his insides were in a constant whirlwind that was tearing him apart from the inside, and he wanted out.

he just wanted out...

dan wasn't mad anymore.

he lay down in the grass, his body curled into a protective ball, the cold water that had been resting on the grass soaking through his clothes.

he didn't feel like going home.