𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞 ℍ𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 | 𝔻𝕊𝕄ℙ 𝔸𝕟𝕘𝕤𝕥

51: fuck u tommy

The Dream House Part Fifty One
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Third POV

Phil and Tommy reached Tommy's biological parents' house, or as he called it; 'the house I could've grown up in' at 10:50pm. Phil informed the group that they went 'somewhere', but never specified.

Both of them knew it was wrong to go in the house, that's counted as trespassing or breaking and entering. Phil didn't want to seem like a bad father to Tommy, all he wanted was to see Tommy happy.

"The case is closed, there's no police tape. No chance they would still be here." Phil thought to himself.

Phil switched on his phone flashlight so they could see better in the dark. Once Tommy had set foot in the house, he breathed heavily and took his hand out of the pocket in his hoodie. He flipped the switches that were beside the front door, switching on the bright orange ceiling lights. It was a cold night, they didn't need to switch on the fan and didn't plan on staying there for long anyway.

"Well, this is the house. It looks just as I remembered it. Except for the new door, and some other small details." Phil muttered, closing the front door as he entered.

"It's beautiful." Tommy whispered, his voice slightly echoing through the spacious house.

Tommy's POV

I went around the whole house and in the rooms too, it felt like I've been here before... I just don't remember ever being here. I saw a plush doll in the master bedroom, it looked like the exact one I had before I got adopted.

The room farther inside was Tristan's. It smelled just so familiar I don't know how I forgot this smell. His room was messy and filled with books, but they didn't look like storybooks. Some of them were open on the floor, along with some crumbled paper too..

"His room's messier than yours.." Phil stated, walking past me into the room.

I took one of the books, it was a journal, except all of the pages had 'Dear Thomas' at the top.

'I can't wait to meet you and finally stop writing letters to you that you're never gonna read.'

I thought my family never cared for me but Tristan wrote me letters every single day... Flipping through the pages, I read some of the words.

'I watched your stream earlier, looked like you had fun!'

'almost burnt down the kitchen haha.'

'I now understand what twins mean when they say they feel lost without each other.'

'CONGRATS ON 10 FUCKING MILLION BIG MAN I WANNA HUG YOU RN.'

'sometimes I imagine how fun it would be to have you around.'

'So... Mom and Dad died - the reason I haven't been writing anymore.'

'been debating whether to meet you.'

Words can't describe the sadness, pain and guilt I feel for being so clueless about this.

"Are you crying?" Phil asked, I'm sure he knew the answer.

Then I flipped to the last page, thinking nothing was written all the way back there. My thoughts were incorrect. Written really tiny at the bottom was:

'fuck u tommy. tristan is like mentally unhealthy because of u. he needs u cause I cannot help him and no one else can. -Chloe'

"Tommy, come here." He requested, pulling me into a hug.

I hugged him back tightly, I wanted to cry my heart out but not to Phil. I'm still mad at him for not telling me but part of me thinks it's my fault too.

"He was hurting, Phil. I barely read one full page of the things that happened to him this year but it was so... so heartbreaking." I expressed, my voice breaking.

"Mhm." He mumbled as I tried to calm down.

I pulled away and looked Phil in the eyes.

"I want to take these." I said.

"All of it?"

"Yeah. I wish I met him sooner... I could've tried to help."

"Don't blame yourself. You wouldn't have known right away."

"I wasn't blaming myself."

"Right. Do you want me to help you carry those?"

"Yes, please."

"Okay."

I was reading one of the books that he wrote in last year while we Phil was driving back. I was so close to crying about how he was hurt but no one else understood what he was going through. I would've understood.

We got home at exactly 12:08am, Phil told me to take one or two books out of the eleven from the backseat because it was dark and he didn't want to take them all in at this moment.

I took the most recent one he wrote in, and the one I was reading in the car. I hid the shirt I took in between the books and snuck it into the house.

Third POV

Sitting on the living room couch, holding a beer bottle, was Schlatt.

"Tommy! How's it feel being back from the dead?" Schlatt asked.

"What?" Tommy questioned, confused.

"I heard you died, yet you're stood right there. Am I seeing shit?"

"No, that was my twin that died."

"Schlatt, stop drinking." Phil sighed, locking the front door.

"I'm only on my second bottle!" Schlatt announced, Tommy went in his room.

"Only, wow." Phil mumbled, putting his keys on the dining table then walked back to the living room.

"Join me?" Schlatt invited, holding up an unopened beer bottle for Phil to take.

"You know what? I will join you, Schlatt." Phil accepted, grabbing the bottle.

"Rough day?"

"Yeah."
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[919 words]