Nightmares

Chapter Thirteen

I set the laptop beside me on the couch. I really didn't know what to do now. Since Phil was gone, I was going to be living alone from now on.

Alone.

As if on cue, the word triggered all of my emotions and the metaphorical dam broke. My tears began small and silently sliding down my cheeks until I was curled up in a ball on the couch sobbing into my shirt. Phil was gone. Gone. Gone! I could not rip my mind from the thought.

No more AmazingPhil. No more Phillip Lester. No more Phil. I cried and cried until my sobs became nothing but sniffles once again. I eventually cried myself to sleep.

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Looking around, I realized I was in the hospital. The same hospital I had just been at several hours ago. I was standing near the front desk, but no one was there. I left the room, hoping to find someone, but I had no luck. I was just wandering through an empty hospital. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going because the next thing I knew, I was standing in front of the door to his hospital room. I opened it slowly.

Inside, Phil was laying in the bed, propped up against many pillows so that he was almost sitting upright.

"Dan," he spoke softly, almost as if it pained him to say my name. I stood near the doorway.

"Phil," I said in astonishment. "What are you doing here?"

He ignored my question. Weakly lifting a hand, he beckoned me closer. I obliged, making my slowly across the room, afraid that if I rushed upon him he would disappear.

"Daniel," he looked me straight in the eye as he spoke. "I have to tell you something extremely important." As he spoke, his words were getting softer and softer. Eventually, he was so quiet that I almost couldn't hear him at all.

"Phil, you're going to have to say it louder; I can't hear you at all," I said to him. But Phil was looking away.

"That's my problem," he said at normal volume. "Every time I try to tell you, it just doesn't work out. You're busy, or upset, or I'm afraid I'll ruin something good, so it never gets said."

I had no idea what he was talking about.

"Just say it now then," I said. He tried again. No sound came out. I tried to read his lips, but it seemed like I could never focus directly on them.

"Dan, it's no use! I'll never be able to tell you." But, as Phil said those words, I had an idea.

"Why don't you write it instead?" I said. Phil seemed to consider the idea and then nodded. I searched the room for a pen and paper and found some laying on a desk to the left that I have previously not noticed. I gave them to Phil. "Here, give it to me when you're done and I can read it."

"Okay," Phil said and then a few seconds later, "The pen isn't writing."

I sighed. "Oh here, let me see," I said reaching for it. Just as I was, Phil gasped. I followed Phil's eyes to his hand to see that he was disappearing. Frantically, he tried the pen again.

I couldn't tell if it worked, but he kept writing. I was crying and I wanted to reach for him, but it was like my arms were frozen as I watched him. In a few seconds he was gone and all that was left was the paper and pen on the bed. I walked over and read:

"Dan, I love y-"

And the rest was unfinished.

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