moods / phan

chapter twenty four

/ another update so quick, who is this person? /

one week later

phil

There's a letter on his doorstep, labelled to him.

His name is written in a scrawly, almost unreadable font, the ink smudged slightly and the envelope slightly damp and crinkled in places which suggests it was held tightly as the person delivered it in the rain.

He knows who it's from, no one else would leave him a letter.

He sighs and bends down, holding the envelope delicately in his fingers as he's trying not to damage the soggy letter further. Cold air and drops of rain blow in his house with him, but he shuts the rest out behind him. His house is strangely quiet. He walks past his kitchen bench, ignoring the note from his father on the bench (he blocked his number), and beelines for his bedroom.

"Winston, off the pillow!" Phil sighs at his cat, now evolved from his kitten size he takes up almost all of his pillow.

The cat never exercises and just eats and sleeps. He almost resembles a pillow himself, a smaller, fluffy one. Phil places the letter on his desk before sitting on his bed beside the grey cat, running his fingers through it's fur and listening to him purr while he watches the rain fall outside, making him feel rather sleepy.

Eventually, Phil drags his attention back to the letter in his desk, unable to shove aside his curiously any longer. Now more dried, Phil tears open the envelope without worrying about damaging it's content. He unfolds the paper and begins to read Dan's attempt at neat handwriting, smudges of ink still scattered across the words.

Phil,

What do I say first? I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you that day, I'm sorry I hurt you, I'm sorry if I've caused you pain in any way. You don't deserve that.

I understand why you're upset with me, but I promise I wasn't talking to you. All you've done is provide me with light in my life and I love you for that.

So this is it Phil, this is the rest of my darkness, this is the part of me you've never known:

My brother died because of me. It was all my fault. He's the only person that cared for me like you do, he believed in me, didn't care that I not have a stupid fucking mood. We were walking, I wasn't looking where I was going, a car came, I was in it's way, he ran and pushed me out of the way.

He died, Phil. He died saving my pathetic ass.

I've always blamed myself for this, why didn't I do something? It should've been me. I'm a screw up, he deserves life so much more than I do. I was so miserable.

Darkness began to seep in from everywhere, smothering out my light until wherever I looked was black. I was so trapped, so suffocated. Everything hurt me so I joined in.

I was talking to my mind Phil, there's a voice in my head which tears me apart every chance it gets. It's breaking me. I did this to myself, I'm destroying everything around me as I simultaneously destroy myself.

That's what's crushing me.

I'm scared, Phil. How do I escape my own head? Do I have to live with this forever? Is the only way I can truly stop hurting by giving up completely? I can't take this much longer Phil, not without you by my side.

You make me feel loved, needed, wanted. I can't thank you enough for this Phil, but I do understand if you don't want to talk again.