INDIE'S POV;
*present time*
Dragging my heavy feet, I trudged through an empty, lifeless town. How was it that everything reminded me of Phil? The dark shadows cast upon the ground; his raven hair. The watery grey colour of the puddles beneath my feet; his eyes when I screamed for him to leave me alone. It was the kind of grey which hung low and suffocated everything stranded in its path. The pulsing giddy feeling deep in my soul; the time I bumped into him in Starbucks.
As I scuffed my feet along the concrete, thin, watery spray cascaded across my already soaked shoes and shins. I bowed my head low so that my stringy hair slid down across my face. Droplets of water ran down the dull lilac clumps.
I continued to aimlessly wonder about the town before I stopped dead in my tracks as I glanced upwards and was faced with an overly familiar coffee shop. My lips lay slightly parted. I could taste the icy droplets run into my mouth as I gazed hopelessly whilst joyous memories flooded my mind.
The water drizzling into my mouth turned salty and I could feel the flushed tears welling up in my eyes.
Without hesitation I strode breathlessly in the opposite direction. My heart sank deep inside my gut. My head drained of all thoughts and instead was packed with unlimited painful feelings.
I couldn't do this any longer.
I missed Phil so much. I wanted so badly to call him and spill out my heart to him but I couldn't. I didn't have the energy or confidence. I hurt him so badly that day. I didn't want to hurt him again.
Guilt was overwhelming me. Covering me in a blanket of darkness.
Stop it.
Just stop making excuses.
You want him in your life? Do something about it.
Apologise.
Call him.
My hands trembled as I reached into my pocket and grasped hold of the phone. I hesitated. I slowed down. I caught my breath again.
My heart thudded inside my chest, like a caged bird trying to fly away.
I hesitated before pulling the phone out and collapsing onto a nearby bench.
I stared down at the phone being tossed around in my right hand, the watery droplets smudging across the illuminated screen.
I brought up my contacts and as softly as a feather brushed my thumb over Phil's name.
My stomach churned at the sight of the 'call' button.
I began thinking.
I thought long and hard.
Wouldn't it be better to call from a different number?
Just incase he didn't want to answer his phone to me.
Out of pure fear of rejection, I made my way towards the nearest phone box.
My breath grew quicker and my head spun like a carousel as I spotted the burgundy red box. As I got closer, I could see the paint had started to deteriorate and rust clung to the corners of the little square windows.
I carefully heaved the door open and slipped inside out of the rain and gloom. The floor was littered with dry, crusty old leaves and crisp packets. Cobwebs hung across the metal roof, and cascaded down the sides of the telephone box.
I took the bulky phone off the wall and rummaged around my pocket for change. I inserted the old dirty coins into the ancient dingy phone box and glancing at my phone to read Phil's number, I entered the digits. The buttons cracked as though they hadn't been used in decades. I held the phone close to my ear with both hands. I shrunk inside my body further and further as each tone sounded.
It felt like waiting an eternity.
Finally, his soothing deep voice mumbled down the line and my heart dropped even deeper inside me.
"Hello?"
Tell him how you really feel.