{Trigger Warning: self harm}

Phil's P.O.V

It was the morning I was leaving for America and I couldn't help but worry about Darcy. I wouldn't be there if something were to happen to her and to be completely honest, I wished she could come with me. I just had to hope Dan would do as I asked which was to take good care of her.

"If anything happens I'll get the next flight back I promise!" I assured Darcy and released myself from the hug we shared. Darcy giggled.

"It's fine Phil! Now go before you miss your flight!" Darcy said and I sighed, I didn't want to go.

"Okay, I'll miss you" I said and kissed her on the cheek.

"I'll miss you too" She whispered and I walked towards the door.

"Bye Darcy, I love you" I said and waved.

"Bye Phil, love you too" She said back and I hesitantly shut the front door behind me. I persuaded myself she would be fine and I started my way to the airport.

Darcy's P.O.V

As Phil left the apartment I found myself wanting to both cry and smile. Phil was my best friend and brother, I didn't want him to go but I needed some time to do things independently, and who knows, maybe I could have a talk with Dan.

My body inched its way from the front door and I decided to do some sketching as I wasn't in the mood to paint. I waddled to my room, not having to search long before I found the pencils, paper and other stationary in the computer desk. Equipment was piled in both my hands as I struggled to carry it back to the living room where I placed it all on the coffee table and sat down on the couch. As soon as I had my sharpened pencil in hand, I already knew what I was going to draw.

I started with a basic sketch before remembering all the details and adding them one by one. After a while, the sketch was coming along well and I decided to make it darker now that I had approved of it. After all, 'light until its right' was an important fact to remember when sketching. I ran the pencil across the paper in various directions, pressing harder to show the image clearer.

"Done" I whispered aloud. I sat up, stretching my slouched back. The bruise on my stomach had appeared the morning before and it ached as I relaxed my muscles again.

"Why the hell are you drawing Phil?" Dan asked as he entered the room. I quickly span to face him and flipped the paper over.

"I dunno..." I murmured and twiddled my thumbs awkwardly.

"Creep" Dan mumbled and walked into the kitchen. Anger rose within me, it was not creepy, it was thoughtful. Phil would like it.

"No" I mumbled back and Dan looked up at me, raising an eyebrow.

"Just shut up" My mouth gaped open, he was the one being rude, not me.

"Why don't you stop acting like a complete douche then?" I added as a-matter-of-factly. Dan stopped what he was doing and stared up at me, his eyes starting to tint red.

"You know what? I don't even want you living here! If it weren't for Phil's tiny amount of sympathy for you then you would be homeless or dead. So shut the fuck up" I clenched my fists. Phil and I were brother and sister, he loved me. It wasn't sympathy it was kindness, something Dan had clearly never heard of.

"Anorexic freak..." He added moments after. My heart sunk and vision blurred as my eyes filled with tears, a lump growing in my throat. I kept trying to convince myself it wasn't true but Dan's words for some reason hit me hard. I blinked the tears away, swallowing the lump in my throat but before I could say anything Dan stopped me.

"Just piss off, neither of us want you here. You're just spending Phil's money and wasting our time" I shook my head.

"You're lying, Phil and I are like brother and sister. He cares about me" Dan smirked and rolled his eyes.

"It's just an act Darcy, he doesn't care. You're just annoying us both and wasting our time" I had enough, I didn't want to listen to Dan anymore. I wasn't an annoyance, Phil cared for me! A tear escaped my eye and I felt it trail down my cheek, why was Dan so horrible?

I tried to speak but instead, all that came out was a small whimper. Dan continued whatever he was doing, me being too concentrated on holding my tears to care. After a few seconds I couldn't hold it in anymore and I ran out of the room and into my bedroom, sobbing the whole way. As I slammed my door behind me, I leant back against it and slid to the floor. I was sobbing into my knees, unable to control myself any further. Why was Dan being so mean? I didn't ask for my parents to die, I didn't ask to be kidnapped and I didn't ask for Phil to help me. I didn't ask for anything but it happened and I couldn't do anything about it.

After what felt like hours, but was only minutes, I got up from my spot on the ground and shuffled over to my bed where I sat and looked down at my body. My sobbing continued as I stood again and opened the bedroom door, the strong smell of cheese and some sort of meat made my stomach grumble but I knew Dan would have only made dinner for himself. I walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind me, locking it after. I cried myself over to sink and looked at myself in the mirror. My puffy eyes, stained cheeks and broken smile started back at me, haunting me.

I opened the drawer, having seen enough of myself. Inside was two bottles of painkillers the doctor had prescribed. I picked one up and inspected it, maybe I wasn't worth Dan and Phil's time. Maybe I was just annoying them. Maybe Phil didn't really care for me. Maybe I would leave and never get a job. Maybe I would become homeless. I slammed the bottle back down and clenched my fists. No. I was Phil's sister, he said he loved me and would always protect me.

I missed him so much.

Another wave of tears threatened to spill from my eyes, and eventually succeeded. My mind was a jumbled mess of thoughts but something stuck my attention, a razor blade at the back of the draw I had previously opened. My hand slid in and I pulled it out carefully. I twisted the blade carefully between my delicate fingertips, inspecting each surface and admiring its sharpness. My face's reflection flickered as the blade started shaking.

I could almost feel the cold metal make contact with my delicate skin, the blade intimidating yet welcoming. My hand trembled as I brought it down to my wrist. I needed a release of all the emotions I was experiencing, darkness clouding my consciousness and replacing my sense of humanity. Before the blade made contact with my arm I stopped and lifted up my shirt instead. Phil would notice the scar if it was on my arm. I slowly pressed the blade against my skin, below the bruise on my ribs. Blood oozed from the cut as it grew, spreading from across stomach from one side to the other.

I sighed and shut my eyes as I just bathed the pain, letting it grow stronger even once I removed the blade. It had worked, I was no longer thinking, I was no longer worrying. I opened my eyes though my vision was still blurry. I blinked and glanced at my reflection in the mirror, admiring the red line cut across my stomach, becoming thicker every second as more blood seeped out. Droplets of blood slid down my stomach so I quickly grabbed a piece of toilet paper and dabbed them, next moving to the cut. I cleaned the majority of blood, wincing when I would accidentally pushed too hard.

Once my hands and stomach were clean and the tissue had been thrown away, I drew my attention back to the blade. Surely neither Dan nor Phil would notice if it disappeared. I washed it clean and carried it back into my bedroom.