Your P.O.V:
April approached.
It was cold, and it was almost as if someone had taken winter and smudged it across spring. I could tell that it wasn't going to be sunny over the next few months.
The clouds spread across the sky to make variations of a similar dark grey, not a patch of stars in sight. Dan and I didn't celebrate Valentines day at all this year, and on Phil's birthday I couldn't bring myself to even get out of bed. I didn't eat at all that day, and it was as if the sun didn't even rise up in the first place. Right now I am sitting in a local coffee place, sipping on a Chai Tea - staring out the window. It was 4am, but I had a set of keys to Saturn Ground and I really didn't feel like going somewhere I wasn't familiar with. The room had a homely sense about it, an electric fireplace to the side of where I was sitting, bookshelves full of the classics, the tables and chairs a dark wood colour, the varnish worn in parts.
It was currently pouring with rain and all that was going on outside was the occasional man running past without anything to shelter them, trying to get away from the rain that would be following them for miles and miles. I was by a window at the front of the shop by myself. I had a dark blue knitted turtleneck jumper that was much too large for me, similar to one that my grandma made and gave to me before she passed away. The pitter of rain haunted the entire shop and the dim yellow lighting provided a small amount of warmth to the atmosphere.
I had left my phone, keys and wallet at home when I ran here. To get away from everything that was chasing me.
I hadn't bothered brushing my hair, or making myself look presentable for that matter. No one could see me and frankly I couldn't see them. That is what's so nice about night time - everyone is on their own, not bothered by people knocking into them and not apologising, or shouting from the streets. All that you could hear is the sound of rain against your umbrella, and the splashing noises of sometimes stepping in puddles scattered across uneven pavement stones.
I stood up from my table as I picked up my mug, pouring the grainy water at the bottom into the sink behind the counter. I set it down on the table and walked towards the bookshelves as the echoed sound of police sirens faded away a few streets away. I took a few seconds scanning through the books and saw the usual; Romeo and Juliet, Pride and Prejudice, Of Mice and Men, The Great Gastby, but one caught my eye.
It was titled 'Freezing to Death'.
I picked it up and flicked through the pages - stirring up the smell of paper as I did so. There were small illustrations across the book's pages, all of which were black and white line drawings and of the same young man. He had dark hair and a glowing smile. The edges of the pages had creases, and when I closed the book the corners had been split, displaying the layers of paper that made up the front cover. I opened it again the beginning.
'Dedicated to Jean, may your soul rest peacefully as you intended it to. The thirty years you spent here blessed the whole world.'
I stared at the page a few more seconds in surprise and closed the book very suddenly. I threw it down on the nearest table and ran out of the cafe, turning the lights off as I did so and locking the door.
The book was beginning to stir up memories of Phil that I had tried to repress to avoid breaking down again.
An image of Phil laughing with his tongue through his teeth flashed through my mind. My knees grew weak and I leant against a nearby wall, sliding my back down it, until I reached the ground. I could hear myself sobbing loudly as I remembered the way he would leave little encouraging post-it notes on the fridge during Dan's dark days, and cover my things in little crocodile stickers he bought when he was in Florida. How whenever he made dinner, he would always fold the napkins into cats he learnt in an origami lesson I showed him a while back. He could never successfully make toast and half the time I woke up to the smell of burning in the mornings, or once when he burnt a pizza so bad, he set off the fire alarm and the entire building had to be evacuated for safety reasons.
Suddenly I couldn't hear the sound of the rain. Or the sound of puddles being splashed against the pavement by passing cars. I couldn't even hear myself sobbing. All I could hear was the sound of silence, a harsh ringing in my ears.
The overpowering sound of nothingness.
Only with the rain my tears seemed small.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
(A/N: This was a filler)
