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HERE IS SOME ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLY AMAZING PHANART DONE BY emkabob LIKE WHAT THIS IS INSANE:

Thank you so so much for doing this! xx

It's for Chapter 11, so I'll be putting it there as well (: xx

AGAIN ITS ANOTHER TRIGGER BELIEVE IT OR NOT ; this chapter's really different and kind of horrible and gory and not nice at all. if anybody doesn't want to read it, message me and i can give you a quick summary of the chapter and stuff <3

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DAN

//flashback//

I open the door to my home and close it behind me, taking off my coat and rucksack and dumping them on the floor.

I've been away at Scout Camp all week and, although it was really fun, I'm glad to be home.

"Mum! Dad! I'm home!" I shout, happily, running into the kitchen.

However, my ecstatic emotions are soon replaced by confused ones when I see only my dad sitting at the island, with his head in his hands.

Usually, him and mum are standing at the oven, with his hands on her hips, making some new, exotic dish for dinner. They always look so happy together, singing along with the radio and dancing around the kitchen without any care in the world.

But today was different. I could just tell that something was going to change my life forever.

"D-Dad? What's wrong? Where's mum?" I ask, walking over and placing my hand on his shoulder.

He looks up at me, his eyes red and his face stained with tears.

"Dan... She's very ill and had to go into hospital," he chokes out.

"But - she'll be okay right?" I ask.

"I... I don't know, it's been going on for a while but they didn't realise until it was too late, I guess," he says.

"But, like, surely it can't-" I start.

My dad looks back up at me and suddenly snaps, "Daniel, just shut UP! YOUR MOTHER IS DEAD, OKAY? SHE'S NOT COMING BACK!"

"What?" I whisper, tears forming in the corner of my eyes. He never calls me anything other than Dan.... It's always just Dan.

"SPEAK UP!" he shouts at me, "I HATE MUMBLING!"

More tears stream down my face and I look over to place he was sitting; there are multiple empty beer bottles scattered around.

"Dad... You're drunk! Please, you don't know what you're saying!"

"Oh, I full well know what I'm saying, young man," he says menacingly, his eyes turning dark.

I've never, ever, seen him like this. Sure, he's been drunk a couple of times, but never like this. He's always been a 'silly drunk'.

I start to back up against the door, as he comes closer and closer to me.

He looks down at me with an evil smile, "You know this is all your fault, Danny Boy."

My eyes widen and I open the door, running out of the kitchen as fast as I can.

I run up the stairs, try to find somewhere to hide. My breathing is heavy and tears are running down my face but right now I need to focus on getting away from my dad.

I look to the right and see the small, old cupboard; perfect for hiding.

I open the doors and quickly jump away when I see a body come out of the inside.

Blood spills onto the carpet and I cover my hands with my mouth when I see the face of the figure.

"No... No... No..." I cry, shaking my head.

"Oh yes, Danny Boy," says the voice of my father, who's hands are, somehow, now lying on my shoulders, "I killed your mother."

His grip tightens and I try to squirm out of his grasp, but I'm too small and weak and his hand is over my mouth before I can scream for help.

"You're not going anywhere," he smiles at me.

I rip his hand away from my mouth and scream, in his face, "What if I call the police? I could just get you arrested!"

"Oh, now, we would want to be doing anything like that, would we? Or little Danny Boy here," he says, in a babyish voice, tugging at my hair, "Could end up like his ittle bittle mummy wummy," he laughs, holding up my mum's head, with the hand that isn't holding mine.

He drops her body back onto the ground and smears his bloody hand over my face, laughing again.

"Now... What to do... With you?" he asks himself, smiling.

I struggle more and try to escape from his grasp, but he just tightens his grip.

Still holding onto me, he walks over to the table, picking up some duct tape and rope, which he clearly had already set up.

I continue trying to escape him, constantly attempting to scream out, but to no avail.

"Now, now, that's no way to behave," he says, an insane look in his eyes. He rips a piece of the tape off and presses it over my mouth. "There we go, that should keep your horrible, little mouth quiet."

I start to thrash about as ties my feet and hands together, the rope rubbing against my skin.

"You can join the bi.tch, as you seemed to like her so much," he sneers, throwing me into the cupboard, along with the body of my dead mother.

He locks the door and I hear him walking away, laughing demonically to himself.

I tremble and cry as my eyes slowly start to shut.

And I know; my life will never be the same again.

//

"The same thing just carried on really... Then, last night, I got kicked out of the house. My dad sent one of his friends to 'take care of me' and he... um... y-yeah." I breathe deeply.

Looking up, though, I see Phil in a much worse condition than I seem to be.

He looks completely distraught; his face is pale, his eyes are so sad-looking and there are tears staining his cheeks. He continues to look downwards, fiddling with his hands.

"H-hey... It's okay Philly. It's okay, I'm safe now," I whisper, rubbing my hand over his shoulder.

"But I - You shouldn't of had to - You just - I-" he mutters to himself.

"Don't worry about it," I say, placing my hand under his chin and lightly pushing his head upwards, to look at me, "Please."

I lean forward, my heart beating out of my chest. I'm going to do it.

We look into each other's eyes and I quickly close the gap between us; pressing my lips onto his.