After Isaac's birthday party ,which was an absolute success, because I managed to get Skyler in Ireland for two nights, Alex and I went to my flat. We were both exhausted from organizing the party, so we immediately fell asleep after our usual session of making out- often with follow-ups, if you know what I mean. My phone rings in the middle of the night, making me sit up, terrified. I pick up, barely awake, as Alex turns the light on.
"Excuse me... Is this Miss Phoebe Phillis?" A man's voice sounded slightly frantic, giving me shivers. What the hell is happening?
"Yes, I am Phoebe Phillis. Who are you?"
"I am sheriff Fallon, Sheffield police. I am very sorry to tell you, your mother died in a car crash about 30 minutes ago and your father's current state is critique..."
He kept saying things about my parents' car crashing into a tree but nothing really reached me. Tears stung the back of my eyes, making their way out.
"Phoebe, Phoebe. Hey! What's happening?!" Alex asks, shaking me.
"She's dead, A-lex. Sheee... Ddd-ead..." I say, through the tears and the cries. Not understanding much, Alex takes the phone from my hand and talks with the sheriff himself.
"Yes, I am sorry, Miss Phillis is unable to continue the conversation. I am her boyfriend, just give me the details.. Yeah.. Ok.. We'll try.. Alright... Yes.. Goodbye." He hangs up and turns to me:
"You'll get through it, ok? I will help you." He said, taking me in his arms.
"She is dead? She is dead... She is dead. She is dead! Alex, she is deaddddd..." I scream, collapsing in his arms.
"Shh... It's gonna be alright... You still got me, ok? I love you, just calm down.."
"Leave me alone, please. Please leave me alone."
He gets out of the room and I start screaming in the pillows in order to muffle the sounds. I start rocking and sobbing and shouting. I feel like ripping my hair off. This isn't real, this isn't real, I say to myself. She can't be dead. What about dad? They said his current state is critique... God damn it, damn it, DAMN IT. What am I supposed to do without them? Do I really have to quit the times we skype, will I really have to see my father's tired figure in that screen, crying along with me? In the best case, if he makes it. Please, God, we've never been great friends, but, please, help.
"...Phoebe?" Alex cracks the door open.
"I don't know what to do, how did it even happen? How?! WHAT WERE THEY DOING AT MIDNIGHT IN A CAR? WHAT WERE THEY DOING, ALEX, HELP ME, PLEASE, THEY'RE ALL DYING!" I say, screaming in pain. My pajama blouse is all wet because of my tears. My face is itching because of the salty tears. My vision is blurry. I am a mess.
"Phoebe, calm down. Breathe, ok. Than, we'll talk." I steady my breaths, my tears continuing to flow down my cheeks, Alex constantly wiping them off with his fingers. His musician rough fingers, so swollen from the guitar's strings. Everything you love changes you. Mentally, it burns itself in your memory and soul and stays with you forever. It even changes your body, somehow. Alex's fingers are rough and calloused. My right middle finger has a bump from the writing. I usually wear a band aid around it, because the thin skin often cracks and bleeds. That's how things go.
"Look, the sheriff told me your father lost control of the wheel. Your mom, I am sorry, died immediately. They hit a tree frontally. Your dad was resuscitated. He's at Sheffield hospital. They said we should get there."
I burst into tears. Alex immediately pulls me into a tight hug.
"Phoebe, I will come with you, ok? I will be with you all the way. You have me, it's not a problem. We'll make it, together."
"Wwwe.. Have to... Ssstart.. Packing.." I mumble, trying to settle my breathing to a normal rhythm. "I'll look for the plane tickets."
He pulls out a troller and starts packing his things with the speed of lightning. I head to the PC and see that there are some available tickets for a flight that would take off in two hours. I inform Alex and he than helps me pack my stuff, too. I dress up as fast as I can and so does Al. He takes our luggage on the hall while I fill Ben's food and water supplies. I will call Isaac in the morning and ask him to take care of him. He'll be disappointed for not calling him now. He would have come with us, undoubtedly. But it was his birthday party. I am not taking him to a hospital. I take out my secret money reserve and stuff it in my pink bag.
"Phoebe, don't worry about the cash. I got plenty." Alex says, reassuringly.
"No, it's fine, I got a credit card and all, I'm good."
I take Ben in my arms and kiss his fluffy head and than put him in the bed I got him from America. I put my hair up in a pony tail and take my leather coat and drape it over my shoulders. I lock the apartment door, grab my troller and dial a taxi number. Thankfully, someone answers and sends one in front of the block of flats.
When we arrive at the airport, we get our tickets and wait for the plane.
"It's gonna be alright." Alex says, wiping another tear off my cheek. I didn't even notice I was crying.
"My mom's dead, Alex. My dad's almost dead." I say, clutching my hair with my hands. Very helpful, Al.
"But you're not alone. You have me, Isaac, Haley, Dylan, Thalia, even Ryan. You will get through it."
The Christmas decorations fill the airport, the almost deserted waiting room kept alive by carols. Two more weeks till Christmas. And I am waiting for a plane to take me to my dead mom and dying father.
***
"We have to stop by my house and leave the freaking luggage." I say, getting off the plane.
"Don't worry, just give me the key and I'll come to the hospital afterwards. Call me." Alex says.
"Thank you. I am going. See ya." I say, turning away, starting to march around.
"Phoebe." He says, making me turn around and face him. "I love you."
"I love you too." I mumble, tears burning my face. I really need to get this crying under control.
***
"Excuse me, I am here for Angus Phillis. I am his daughter." I tell the woman at the hospital's desk. She checks her computer, calls a nurse and tells me the room: 505. Ironic, isn't it... The nurse explains me the situation.
"He is currently under surgery. His lungs have been perforated. The doctors are trying to stitch the holes up. I am sorry, but his chances are very small. The surgery should be over in about 2 hours."
I sit down in a couch in the waiting room and cry. I lost my mom. I am losing my dad, am I not? It's five in the morning already? Hell...
"Alex... He's having his lungs stitched. They were perforated by the glass... The chances of survival are reduced." I mumble, my phone trembling at my ear.
"...crap. I am coming, anyway. 3 more minutes."
He hangs up.
***
"Miss Phillis?" A pair of surgeons ask as they enter the room, sweating, masks still on.
"Yes." I get up, a rush of adrenaline shooting through my body. Alex gets up, too, grabbing my hand, squeezing it.
"We did our best. We are sorry." The other one says.
"No. No. NO." I shout, falling to my knees. Alex immediately pulls me up and sets me on the little couch. I start shaking and crying and mumbling senseless words like no, impossible, it isn't real, mom, dad. For the first time, Alex says nothing.
Do you know how missing a step of the stairs feels like? You skip a beat for that split second when your foot is going down, unable to feel the earth underneath. In the moments after the 'news', I felt like someone took the last step away, making me hang breathlessly in the atmosphere, trying to find the missing step. I was falling, my body frozen. But there was Alex's warm, rough hand to catch me.
***
Alex's perspective
"No. No. NO." Phoebe falls to the floor. I pull her up and gesture to the doctors a 'thank you for trying', making them leave. I can't give Phoebe any shitty advice this time. It's too much for me, too. Her pain is a lot to handle. Cause I crumble completely when she cries...
I leave her on the sofa for a second, go to the nurse and ask her if it's alright if we come later to sort things out with the... Bodies. I hate that. Humans becoming bodies. It's tragic. However, she said to take our time and that we can come whenever we're ready. I left her Phoebe's number just in case and went back to the brand new orphan. Sarcastic me.
"Let's go home, ok?"
Obviously, she said nothing, she just cried. I called a cab that took us back in our neighborhood, right in front of her house. My mom is sleeping, I bet. The lights are off in my house. I will visit her later.
"Phoebe, you need to sleep." I say, taking the jacket off her. She said nothing. She'd say nothing every time I would say something. I can't blame her. She is shocked. I turn the hall's lights on to find her childhood dog, Max, waving his tail happily. She sits down on the floor and calls it next to her. It puts his head on her lap and she starts petting him.
"I've missed you, doggy." She whispers. Her eyes were red and the bags under them had this violet color, as if she had been punched by someone. My love..
"Max, they aren't coming back." She let her head fall on the dog's shoulder, sobbing. I sat down next to her and put her in my lap. She than wrapped her hands around my neck, her fingers clenching from time to time at my hair. Eventually, she fell asleep. I took her upstairs and looked for her room. Opening a white door, a mass of posters with quotes and movies and books were hanging everywhere. A deserted, dusty desk was in a corner. A neatly arranged single bed on the opposite wall. This room was once full of life, just like the whole house. Now, there's just an old dog here.I lay her down and let Max climb up at her feet. I open the wardrobe in her bedroom to look for a blanket and a pillow. I find one of each and install on the carpet, right next to her. Her ragged breaths fill the room, keeping me awake. The dog's awake, too. He comes next to me, nuzzling his head in my stomach. I start thinking about the death of her parents. Just as Phoebe said at some point: why were they driving in the middle of the night? Where to? But why? After ages, I decide to put an end to my attempts of falling asleep, managing to get on my feet.
I go to the kitchen and check the fridge. I am kinda hungry. Max follows me awkwardly and, even more awkwardly, I start talking to him.
"So, ye been a good boy all these years?"
He would look at me like I was crazy.
"Ye know anything about 'em?"
He would still keep looking at me like that.
"Ye want some chicken?"
Now he'd wiggle his tail. Swine.
"Alex?" I hear Phoebe's voice from her room. She must have woken up. I quickly throw the cigarette I have been smoking on the window and go to her, climbing two stairs at a time.
"Yes, love."
"What time is it? And why were you sleeping on the floor?" She said, letting no tears escape. I check my phone.
"Umm, it's 9. You've only slept 3 hours."
My phone starts ringing, A Certain Romance interrupting me. Very narcissistic, I know. Even my ringtone is a song of mine.
"ALEX, FOR FUCK'S SAKE! I've been calling Phoebe a thousand times! Her phone is shut down or something?! WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING, WHERE IS SHE? WHERE THE HECK ARE YOU, YOU'RE SCARING THE CRAP OUT OF ME."
"Phoebe... It's Isaac." I tell her, gesturing at the phone. She gets out of bed and takes the phone from me.
She briefly explains what happened. She's so tense, that her cheekbones are more outstanding than ever. They look like they could cut you like blades. Her eyes are red. And that says it all. Her eyes are Simply Red.
"...please drop by at my apartment, ok? I left a key under the mat... Yes, alright... Yeah, it's probably out of battery... Oh, hi... Yeah, Haley, I will... Yeah, sure Dylan... Thank you.. I love you too, thanks again... Of course I will... E-mail me the homework... No, you don't need to... I don't know what we'll do, really... Yes, of course we'll be back by Christmas... No, really, it's fine... We don't know yet... Yeah.. Ok.. Bye."
She hangs up, giving me the phone. She hugs me and thanks me for being here and for helping her and for everything, basically. She even managed a faint smile. She even gave me a quick kiss. What's more, she was looking all powerful again.
"I am going to go change, ok? Then, we'll go to the hospital and see what we do or whatever... We'll be home for Christmas, won't we?" She says, pulling that silent disappointment face, the one that I can't bear...
"Of course we will." I kiss her forehead and hug her again.
"I love you, Al."
"I love you too, sweetheart."
I go downstairs and smoke a cigarette as I wait for her. I have changed already, so all I can do is wait for my sad princess to come downstairs. I go in the living room and sit back in the sofa her dad sat in when they told me the truth about her Lecophilis. On the coffee table, there are two envelopes. Not having entered in the living room before, I had no idea about them. I realize that these are goodbye letters when I see that Phoebe's name is written on one of the envelopes. My name is on the other one. I open mine.
Alex Turner,
I am blaming myself for completely letting you take care of my daughter. I am a coward, Alex Turner. I can't tell you a proper reason why we're doing this. It might be because we're getting old and crazy. However, it might be because of the loneliness. We're not 20 anymore, everything hurts more and more in time. I am sorry. You're too young to carry such a burden on your shoulders. But I know you love her, young man. That's why we are leaving without feeling that we're abandoning her. She is not alone. Even if she's only 16 and you're only three years older, I know you will be together . Mainly because I know my daughter makes the good men fall hard for her and secondly because you're a good man. Please always be there for her. Celebrate the good times while holding her hand and pass through the bad times still holding her hand. Take care of her for me. Kiss her. Love her. Hold her.
Yours apologetic coward,
Angus Phillis
Alex,
My sincere apologies. We don't want you to permanently tie your soul to hers if this isn't the truth your heart feels. But if things change between you, please make sure you leave her surrounded by people she cares about, people who would always stay by her side. However, I know with all my heart that things will never change between you. Because the moment I saw you at our door, asking so determined about her real state, I understood how much she matters to you. And I am thankful that she found a wonderful person like you. I am sorry, young man. I am sorry for giving you such a responsibility. Never forget: there are always more people who can help you. Thank you for the future, Alex.
Yours gratefully,
Lorraine Phillis
I remain shell-shocked, papers in my hand. These people trust me to take care of her. Well, just so you know, wherever you are, mister and miss Phillis, you didn't even have to ask for it. I will take care of her for as long as I live.
"Ready to go?" She says, appearing in the door frame, gasping tiredly. Look at her. She's already sticking up the pieces.
"Actually, they left you something." I put the two sheets of paper back in my envelope and take hers from the table.
"What do you mean?" She asks, her calm expression changing. "They couldn't have left anything... No, they didn't... It was an accident! It has to be! It was just an accident, Alex! They couldn't have left anything..." She starts gasping for air between the sobs, moving her hands in circles, pulling the sleeves of her hoodie over her trembling hands. I give her the envelope. She looks at it, as though she couldn't understand what the writing on it meant. Phoebe Ph., it wrote. She stared at it, teardrops wetting the paper. Her fingers started moving where it was glued, slowly revealing two other folded papers.
"Alex..." She lifted her head, not taking the letters out yet. "Why did they do this to me..? What did I do wrong... Alex, please... I loved them. I love them."
"Sometimes... Things just happen... And.. We might never completely know why... But we should all accept and grow stronger." I answer, cupping her red face with my hands.
Her tears roll down all the way to my palms, burning in my skin like fire. She gently pulls away and goes up to her room. Take your time, dear, take your time... I say to myself. I will be here for you.
I spend the next half hour talking on the phone, explaining the situation to the manager, to the lads, to Miles-who was currently on tour with The Rascals.. My mom also called.
"Al, hi. There's light in Phoebe's room, are you in Sheffield? There's only light in her room when she comes on holidays to her parents. Is anything wrong?"
I explain her and she offers to come over and help us. After all, Phoebe's already some kind of bride for me in her eyes. They've never met before, excepting the few times when we've talked on Skype, but that doesn't count. Anyhow, my dad's a jerk who hurt mom, so he isn't in this scenery.
"Yeah, if you want to. But act cool, please. Give her space. She's basically dying."
"Of course, Al, I know how to handle these situations, I'm a psychologist, after all. I won't embarrass you in front of her, don't worry."
"Haha, very funny." I hang up. I am still waiting for Phoebe to come down. I got worried for a bit, because nothing could be heard from her. But than I heard the continuos crying and the bed's creaks, so I reassured myself that she is not having a crisis.