running out of time (a phan oneshot)

running out of time

december 14, 2009

ive always hated everything about myself. it didnt matter if it was a physical or mental flaw, i just hated it. i didnt have to have a reason either, its just i wanted to be perfect; i wanted to to be normal. but infact, im the complete opposite of normal.

whenever you think of 'power', you usually think of a superhuman power such as flying or invisibility, but they arent always that simple. mine is more of a curse.

im able to put an exact date on everyones death. my parents, my siblings, my friends, everyone. everyone but myself.

ive lost many people because of this. first of all, no one ever believes me, so i stopped trying to get help. secondly, ill know if my best friend is going to die in ten days.

that just so happened to be the case.

normally i try to ignore it, but i cant really help it. whenever i look at someone for the first time, a date clicks into my head. and it keeps on clicking until i wont ever forget that stupid date. so you can imagine how annoying leaving the house is.

i avoid making eye contact with anyone and everyone, because i know ill fall into the trap known as a social life. and lord knows i cant deal with that, along with many other things.

but one day i broke that one rule i had made for myself.

i was sitting in a little coffee shop far away from the city, when a handsome man in his early twenties walked in. i normally dont notice these things, but for some reason, i did that day.

he had jet black hair, a color that contrasted to his soft appearance. his eyes were bright blue, hidden behind the rims of his glasses. a simple tshirt along with black skinnies. it was so simple, yet i liked it so much.

the feeling of happiness was soon replaced by dread, as the familiar clicking sound was in my head, along with a date.

december 14, 2009.

i sighed out loud, knowing that this was only a few months away.

i wont get attached to him, i wont befriend him, i wont talk to him.

these were the thoughts running around my head at the time. i wanted to get up and talk to him so badly, yet i couldnt get myself to do it. so i just looked back down at my coffee, carelessly stirring it as my head swam.

but i was quickly forced out of my daze as i felt a hot liquid covering my pants. i shut my eyes, taking in a deep breath. the person who had just spilt their coffee on me had made a huge mistake.

dont worry, im not one to get physical, but they would receive a death glare and a complete short temper, one you most definitely dont want out of me.

but when i finally opened my eyes, i expected to see some white girl glaring at me, but no, it was the boy from earlier. he had a frantic look on his face, constantly muttering 'sorry' under his breath. he scrambled around trying to find napkins, but i stopped him. i actually cleaned the mess up myself.

afterwords, there wasnt much dialogue between the two of us. he muttered sorry yet again and i assured him it was okay, and then we both got back to what we were doing.

i figured this was the last i would see of mystery man, but a day later, i bumped into him again.

i smiled at him and he helped me up, apologizing over and over again like the day before. i insisted it was okay, although i was left at awkward pause.

"no, no, really its okay. dont worry about it," i said, stopping when i realized i didnt know his name. he looked at me curiously before smiling and answering me, making it the first time ive heard his voice.

"phil," he said, looking at the ground, "phil lester." he then held out his hand, making it obvious on what he wanted me to do. but me, being the awkward idiot i am, i was staring at him. he raised an eyebrow curiously, a trace of a smile on his lips. it took me another few seconds for me to snap back into reality, and when i did, i felt so stupid. who does that, staring at a stranger like they were the love of their life? not normal people, thats for sure.

"dan howell," i said, jabbing my hand into his. i know ive screwed this whole thing up entirely, but now it just got even worse.

after that awkward day, i tried not to leave the house again, and of course, that failed. i bumped into him multiple times, and soon we became close friends. maybe it was because i pitied him having to die so soon, or maybe he was actually a good friend. i couldnt figure out which though.

so here i am, beeping monitors surrounding phil and i. hes lying down, eyes closed, on the brink of death. i knew this was coming, why didnt i say something to him?

beep, beep, beep, beep.

and then the line goes dead.