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okay before this chapter starts, i just want to thank you all so much for the phenomenal support ive had on this fic. this is only the beginning, and already ive had tons of lovely, inspiring comments from everybody ^-^ i really appreciate everything said and just thanks for reading, i guess xx ive never, ever had this kind of reaction to anything ive made before and it's just such a nice feeling that you guys enjoy what im making. i sincerely apologise if im slow at updating and i know i will be because, believe it or not, im an extremely busy person. but i will try to update as quickly as i can :) i actually, properly enjoy writing this fic and that's all thanks to you amazing people encouraging me to keep writing so thank you x this is also the first fic that I've properly 100% planned out and im really happy about that because its definitely making the quality of my work better xx finally, i am currently working on a lot of other phanfics that nobody really knows about because im planning to write them all, in full, before i post any of the chapters; so, look forward to that! Xx

also i started making these outline drawing things because i was really bored.

i know it's absolutely terrible but i did it in a rush in like 5 minutes because i had to do my drama exam today so yeah...

I was going to do one relevant to the story and maybe change this cover? I don't know... Maybe.

Anyway, sorry for this really long a/n! On with the chapter:

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AGAIN: TRIGGER TRIGGER (the majority of this book is triggering actually so if you are easily triggered you might not want to read on)

DAN

I sit, trembling. My back is pushed against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall and I can feel the blood trickling down my wrists.

I tried to restrain myself, I really did. I've been three days clean and I was doing fine. Phil was making me happy. He replied whenever I needed someone; even if he didn't truly know the reason.

But he didn't this time... He didn't reply. I was stupid, really, I assumed the worst.

I look down at the light glow of the iPhone 4 I saved up for years to get, to see a message.

Phil: Dan! Are you okay? *virtual hug* <•^-^•>

The side of my mouth twitches up, a little, but it's weak. I haven't smiled in years.

My hands are trembling, from the blood loss, but I manage to type a short reply.

dan: i thibj so

Phil: Are you sure? (∩︵∩)

dan: yepk

I wasn't. I'm pretty sure he knew that. But there was nothing he could do to help. We were staying anonymous; that was the deal.

I hear the door slam downstairs, indicating that my father's home.

I scramble up and grab some tissue, cleaning away the blood. I open the cupboard and grab some bandage, wrapping it around my wrists, to hide the scars and stop the blood from going through, onto my jumper.

"DANIEL!" I hear him slur from downstairs, "IF YOU AREN'T DOWN THESE STAIRS WITHIN FIVE SECONDS THERES GOING TO BE TROUBLE."

I run down the staircase and into the kitchen, where I see him slumped over the table, with a beer in one hand and a belt in the other.

I walk backwards, retreating, in fear. The last time he used that I ended up not being able to stand for a week.

"Don't you walk away from me, Danny Boy, we're going to have some fun," he menaces.

"Please..." I whimper, slumping back into the wall, hands protecting my face, as he walks toward me.

"Oh yes," he shoots an evil smile at me, as he raises the belt.

"No," I mumble.

Silence.

"Speak up Daniel. You know I can't stand mumblers," he says, angrily.

"No," I reply, a little firmer this time.

"Are you talking back to me?" he shouts, "I am superior to you and you think it's acceptable to say something like that to me?"

"Yes." I look up at him, a sudden burst of courage flowing through me.

He suddenly shouts, bringing the belt down, causing me to scream out in pain.

"OUT!" he shouts, "OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

"B-But-" I start, taken aback by his outburst but still clutching onto my face, where he struck me.

"Did you not hear me?" he shouts, again, "Get off my property!"

I slowly start to drag myself off the floor, and towards the stairs, to gather what little possessions I have.

"Faster, you worthless faggot!" he shouts, striking me again, but this time, across my back.

I get up to my room and lean on the door, before I hear "I want you out in less than five minutes!" from downstairs.

I grab my black rucksack and stuff in my essential items: black shirt, black jeans and a toothbrush and toothpaste. I saved for ages to buy my straighteners, so I grab those as well. I can feel my phone in my back pocket so that leaves only one thing.

I take the blade from my shelf and put it into the pocket of the bag.

I haven't got any money, other than a couple of old fivers, so i grab those and put them into my jean pocket.

I zip up the rucksack and sling it over my back, tying up my shoes, before walking back down the staircase.

I reach the front door and look back to see my father looking at me in disgust.

All of a sudden, he punches me flat in the face, causing me to bring my hand up to my cheek. "That's, for being the son I never wanted."

Although, he wasn't done there. He punched me once for everything wrong with me.

One for being a Queer.

One for being Disgusting.

One for being Worthless.

And finally,

One for being me.