Impossible

Part 12

Song is cancer by mcr because its nice n short and im a shit face lolza enjoy

'D-dan?' a sleep coated voice croaked out, making me jump

'Phil!' I gasped, jumping out of my chair leaning over his small body

'What happened?'

'Yyou...you had a seizure, the tumour was cutting off the oxygen flow to your brain. They want to operate Phil'

Phil's eyes grew wide and he shook his head wildly, beginning to lift the cover off the bed and swinging his pale legs over the side. I put my hand firmly on his legs and pulled them back over, sending him a stern look.

'I'm not having the operation' the boy stated clearly, folding his thin arms over his chest which rose and fell shakily.

'What? Of course you are, I mean, you have to. You could die if you dont..You do realise that right?'

Phil spluttered and laughed mockingly

'Of course I do Doctor Dan but what's the point in living a few more measly months. The chemo isnt working and the tumour is only getting bigger and causing me more trouble'

Adrenalin rushed through my stomach and into my throat, making me feel naseous.

'B-but I need you here, you cant leave'

'You need me? What about me??  I'm the one who's dying, being eaten alive by fucking cancer! I'm not willing to put myself through more pain just for a few more months of pointless living, especially for the likes of you, Dan Howell' Phil spat, his words making me cringe like a sour lemon.

'If you're so desperate to get away from me and living, why don't you just pull out those tubes right now?'

'Dan. c'mon. thats not what I meant I j-'

'No!' I screached, cutting him off 'I cant believe you're being so calm about this! You're dying Phil, you don't want to die...do you?'

I looked him in the eyes, searching the depths of murky blue, not expecting an answer.

'Maybe' was the only one I recieved.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Turns out Phil Lester did want to die because 3 weeks later, he had another seizure right before my eyes and this time, he wasn't okay.

He was in a coma, not dead but barely alive, clinging onto life by the tips of his chewed fingernails.

His brain didn't have enough oxygen, ungrateful brain, and so was slowly shutting down, each window slowly closing and plunging phil into inevitable darkness.

Though I was oaky on the outside, I too was shutting down but not in a literal sense.

Every day dragged on, sitting in the bland hospital room. I sometimes forgot i wasnt alone until Phil gave a soft sniffle and I jumped out of me seat, only to be dissapointed.

I know Phil would have wanted to let go but as his parents refused to come and see him, I was the one responsible for deciding when he should be taken off life support and right now, I was stepping firmly on his fingertips, keeping him hanging from the cliff of death for dear life (no pun intended)

I knew it was coming one day, not just for Phil but for all of us, his death was just going to be premature, a short lived life cut off way too soon. I remembered a day back in the hospital when Phil had told me how one day he wanted to write an auto-biography and he had started it when he thought i wasnt looking. I promised i'd help him get it published one day but hey, I'm Dan Howell, the word promise has no meaning coming from my mouth.

Some days I just wanted it to end but when it finally did, I came to wonder how I could even have let a thought like that cross my mind.

Next chapter is probably the last and im gonna write it tonight

look forward to that ;)

= Izzy x