2 Points Of View {PHAN}

Chapter 15: Home?

"They got your story from an outside source and they seem to think you two have something special together. Kind of like a Stockholm Syndrome thing. They are saying that you two ran away and that they are questioning if you are telling the truth. Some of the other papers say you did it out of revenge for something. It is quiet awful what they are saying in the papers," she explained. I almost fainted right then and there if it wasn't for the florescent light shining from the ceiling.

"What?! Why would they say that?!" I exclaimed.

"It is to get money. Make the papers more interesting. It is a cruel way of making money, but also a smart idea," the nurse said.

After that I was released from the hospital because I wasn't in traumatic injury or dying in the moment. All they said was that I had bruising on my body, mainly stomach and to watch it. I also had a slight concussion from being hit to many times and to check myself in if anything goes wrong.

Like the nurse said, the media wanted to know more about my case and tried to get to me. They stood outside the hospital and flashing lights everywhere blinded me making me a bit dizzy. I held up my hand and tried to ignore all the questions being shouted at me as I walked to my Mum's car. Some questions asked me about Phil and I's relationship, how I escaped, or if I'm a cold blooded killer. My Mum got out of the car and helped me to the car leading me as I looked to the ground. We sped out of that hospital to lose the press and thought we were good until we showed up at the house. Some press people were lined up in front of the house and snapped pictures.

That has been going on for about 2 weeks now. Phone calls about interviews and TV shows wanted me to join them on the subject of my kidnapping. My family made sure I turned them down and I did. I did not want my life put on broadcast. Especially if it was on the subject of Phil and my kidnapping. If I am completely honest then I think that those news reporters and those people working with the press are huge assholes to people.

As more of my story became a widely known topic the police had success in finding the cabin. With the miles on the car they tried to see if they could trace the car back to the spot where Phil originally left it. With the help of the motel police incident they got an area to look for the cabin. Soon enough they found the cabin that looked like a bloody crime scene.

The cops explained that when they went inside the cabin they didn't find Phil. Instead they found a lot of blood on the bed sheets and on the floor. They said that Phil's body must have been dragged across the cabin because they found blood smeared on the floor in a dragging motion towards the front door. There were articles of clothing ripped up by the front door with more blood. The cops said a lot of blood was scatter over the ground of the front door and more of dragged blood towards the forest.

Bears were common in that area, so they said Phil's body must have been dragged out of the cabin and ate by a bear or two. There was multiple evidence towards it, so the case was closed yesterday with me being innocently victim meaning I was no longer need by the cops. I was not charged with anything.

Now it is the present day and the press are still bothering me. It has been two weeks since I returned home, so the police said to not expect them gone within the next month or so. Every day we still get calls from interviews and TV shows asking about me speaking out on the topics.

My Mum and Dad are trying to get use to the press and I think they are getting a good understanding of the situation. Adrian likes the press because he thinks he looks good, so they are here for his modeling career. Luckily he is too young to understand the full situation.  We are trying to make the best of what is happening and trying to be a normal family again.

I noticed that my room hasn't changed since the first day I was kidnapped. Hopefully that means that they thought that I would come home and they didn't give up on me. But it was only 6 months that I was gone. My posters are moved and my messy bedsheet still smells of me. My desk is starting collect dust and even my old clothes are still on the floor of my room.

Every now and then my friends like Louise, PJ, and Chris come to visit me and at times it cheers me up. No one has asked me about what happened they just want to make sure I am safe. It is good to not explain and go through all the emotions of what I was doing for about 6 months. What I saw, felt, and did. I feel sad, angry, happy, and even annoyed with the situation. Those emotions control my life right now.

It is about 1 am in the morning and I am awake, like I always am. Old habits never die. There isn't much press outside the house, must of them gone home. I pull my hoodie over my head and go to the back door. I need so fresh air, so why not take a walk. I hope over the back of my fence and walk out of my neighbor's back yard. I am walking towards an older bridge that I use to go to when I was troubled. I still go there for fun.

It brings back the memories of that I had been troubled at one time, but I have pushed through them all. I went to this bridge when I found out my parents were expecting Adrian, when my 'friends' pushed me in the mud to call me a faggot, and the time when I was suicidal. These broke memories give me hope that I will be better every time I come back to this bridge.

I turn the corner and a few cars drive pass me as I walk on the pavement. The light pole's lights guide me to the bridge where some cars drive over. Not so much at 1 am in the morning because normal people need their sleep. The rusty bridge that was once painted black still holds strong. One light pole shines at the beginning of the bridge. Underneath the bridge is a small dam that runs through the town. It sounds peaceful as the water flows across the ground.

I stand where the light pole I and lean on the bridge's metal. I look out to the town. It looks normal and nothing special, not beautiful just something there. I keep on thinking and end up thinking about Phil and the kidnapping.

I feel all of the emotions filling my head. The way Phil smiled when he meant it, the way he felt passionate about what he was mad about, or how actually cared about me. I realize that what he said had meaning. It was not just words put together, it was meaningful words that had a purpose. He risked it all to have me, even if it was against my wishes. At first I didn't understand why he brought me to the house, but now I see that he wanted the best for me.

It was for me. For us. He wanted both of us to be happy. My unseeing ways pushed him and his emotions away. I know it sounds crazy, but what he did seemed good. Even though it was against my will, he wanted the best for me. That isn't always good for people, but for us it worked. Tears streamed down my face. I wasn't sobbing uncontrollably. Noise didn't come out of my mouth. Only tears rolled down my cheeks silently.

An emotion of regret hit me hard. I was officially noticing and acknowledging what Phil and I had. What we went through and how we pushed through it all. Everything made sense. The house, clothes, food, and gifts. He wanted me to be happy and all I did was kill him and destroy him.

I lashed out at myself then. I collapsed to the ground and covered my face. Hard tears feel down my face and I sobbed uncontrollably. Nothing felt good. Regret poured in my mind. I sat on the ground crying hard about how I wanted to see Phil. To see him smiling and to tell him I'm sorry. I needed him to be happy and to be sane. I now know that I wanted him and wished to be with him.

I wobbled up and leaned against the bridge. Thoughts of ending my life came into play and jumping off the bridge seemed like the best option. I rubbed my face to get rid of the tears and started to climb on the bridge.

"Dan?"