Trust, Dan's POV (jeez mads when will you ever write in Phil's POV?!)
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I trusted Phil.
Yes, I trusted Phil with all my heart,
my mind, my soul, my body.
I trusted every bit of him with every bit of me.
Until now...
It was growing dark gradually, the night springing up on at a snail's pace. We were walking through a neighbourhood, lead by Leroy and Charlie. Leroy and Charlie were two of Phil's friends. When I came to visit him, he took me to the cinema, where he introduced me to the pair. Now, after lounging out at Phil's house, Leroy and Charlie invited both of us to their place. They lived in a small neighbourhood, filled with houses looking identical and backyards melting together, surrounded by fences.
"The house is right up ahead!" Charlie called back to us. Leroy was in the middle, munching on some crisps, and Phil and I were a bit farther behind.
"Phil," I said, speeding up a bit to catch him by the arm, "aren't we going into someone's yard? Whose house is it anyways?"
Phil turned and moved his arm to snake around my waist. He hugged me to his side. "Don't worry, we know this place. Charlie and I used to come here on occasion, and when Leroy moved in, we spent more time there. It's just a bit farther now, come on."
The house shifted, from a speck to a blob to a figure to a form to a house to a monster. There was fresh paint on the sides, washed shutters, and a welcoming red front door. "It hasn't been touched in ages, only since we've been here years ago!" Leroy explained. Then why did it looked all fixed up?
I brushed the feeling off, not wanting to be lame in front of the older kids. I fixed my fringe quickly, then rushed off to follow.
An old wooden fence was overruled by ivy, chains of green rooting it to the ground. Charlie kicked the door and we walked in.
I must say, it was pretty great. It looked magical almost. There were colored soda pop bottles strung up in the trees, a disco ball as well... a creepy kiddie pool filled with pungent muck... and the main attraction... the broken-in house.
"Are... are you sure this isn't someone's house?" I said, my voice cracking. I heard Leroy chuckle and reply with a sneer. "Yeah, kid, this house used to be someone's, but now it's ours. No one's been in here for years, like I told ya. Don't you listen?" "Hey! That's enough," Phil said. Thank goodness he'd stick up for me. Someone really needed to tone the twat down.
"So... who wants to go first?" Charlie asked. "Me!" Leroy said, his arm shooting up in the air like a firecracker. I snorted. Better him than me.
Charlie starting patting Leroy's back - "Don't get killed!" - and Leroy disappeared into the unknown. We heard some oh shit!s and shuffles, until Leroy finally exclaimed, "The place is the same as last time! Come on in, everyone!" I heard Phil give a small "yay!". I mean, I didn't want to ruin his fun. I had to remember, these were his childhood memories too. Me, I didn't have too many fond ones of those, but Phil and Leroy and Charlie obviously came to this house all the time!... so why did it creep me out so much then?
Charlie went in after he heard Leroy give the O.K., and then it was Phil and I's turn. Phil reached for my hand and squeezed it. He stopped me before we followed the other boys, who had started to play music in a boombox from inside and shout. "Dan, if you don't want to go inside, you don't have to, but just remember, I'll be right by your side." "It's okay, Phil," I said. "I want to prove I'm not some scared little kid. Plus, I trust you, one hundred percent."
Phil took a deep breath and stepped inside, still holding onto my hand. I had no choice but to keep holding on and follow.
It was as bad as I thought it would be. There was broken glass everywhere, from mirrors and window panes. Charlie had already lit a cigarette, and smoke drifted through the downstairs. Phil stayed right by my side, but I couldn't see Leroy. And everywhere you stepped, the floorboards creaked. Not my cup of tea.
But I trusted Phil.
"Guys! Come in here!" Leroy called from the front hall.
There was a big glass chandelier. The lights in it weren't working, as the power was probably cut ages ago. Charlie had run in from the kitchen and climbed up the stairs to get up onto it and swing. "Look at me!" he boasted. I rolled my eyes and Phil laughed. It looked pretty fun, I guess. But then we heard something smash from upstairs. "Ooooooh ghouls!" Leroy cried, and clambered up the stairs. I smiled. I was getting used to this, and a little adventure never hurt anyone.
Charlie, Leroy, Phil, and I crowed around in the only other room on the top floor besides the small bathroom, which was jammed: the bedroom.
The bed looked like someone had made it, not a wrinkle on the maroon velvet sheets. That looked like an invitation to me! "Cannonball!" I screamed as I jumped on the bed. Everyone laughed as I dove to mess up the bedsheets, but I instantly regret it when I heard someone clear their throat. All four of us froze like deer in headlights, shellshocked from a mysterious throat-clearer. "W-was that... was that any of you?" Phil whispered. We all shook our heads. "It was me."
We all turned to see a ghastly figure swaying in the doorway. The man appeared like he couldn't catch his balance. "The name's Peter, this is my house," he explained. Charlie jumped up. "Uncle Peter!" he said, rushing over to hug his relative. Peter was shaken but didn't seem to respond to Charlie's hug. "This is my great uncle," he stated. We all nodded slowly, still unsure. Peter did nothing but clear his throat once more: "Yes," he started slowly. A long pause was given, followed by a haunting "Why are you in my house?"
Charlie laughed like it was the most ridiculous question he'd ever heard. "We're here because you let us come here, all the time! Or at least we used to," he said. Peter nodded slowly, but looked dazed and confused. "Well, if that's all... tell your mother I said hello," he said, and walked into the closet over by the bed. He shut the door behind him, but Charlie rushed over, pleading that this relative of his stay. But when Charlie opened the door, nothing was there except musty old clothes. Immediately I got the shakes, and tugged on Phil's arm like a toddler. "Phil, please, I don't like the feeling in here," I said. Phil nodded. "You're right, this house is falling apart... we should really leave."
"No, stay!" Leroy said, a hint of something odd hidden beneath his twisted tongue. "The party's just getting started."
"Nah mate, we're going to just wait it out in the street," Phil said, leading me out the backdoor.
Once we got outside, Phil explained it all to me. "Peter doesn't actually live there," he explained calmly as we walked down the dim-lit street. I stopped short. "What do you mean? We just saw him," I insisted. Phil was older, so he should be wiser, but Peter was standing there in plain sight. Phil shook his head and rubbed his arm full of goosebumps. "No... Peter gave it to Charlie in his will. We hung out in it when we were younger, but not after what happened upstairs." "What happened upstairs?" I asked.
"Peter was murdered by his wife. Then she left. We've never seen her since. Same with Charlie's mum, she's dead as well. And that, Dan, is why I wanted to leave with you," Phil explained. I nodded in understanding, but was still freaked out. "I'm surprised I'm so calm, and surprised that they're still there," I said, and Phil nodded in reply. But I suddenly stopped short. "Phil?" I asked. "Yeah?" "If... if Peter's dead, and has been for quite a while, who... who are they talking to?"
A/N: Hi! Hoped you liked this! I enjoy creepy stories like that, and who doesn't want a lil 2009!Phan in their day? Maybe I'll write a bit more like this, but NOW ONTO THE FLUFF! <333
