{ 30 } - Return part 1

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Dan's POV

It was so strange entering the house again after so long. So much had happened. A month ago, I would have never thought all of this would happen. It's funny how quickly, as soon as it's gone that you realise how my much things mean to you.

I closed the front door behind me. It left a horrible echoing sound, so I quickly moved towards the stairs, hoping the scuff of my feet on the stairs would muffle the lonely echo of the front door. The familiar sound of my feet on the stairs comforted me, it almost felt like home again. I didn't think any of our neighbours were in, it was a week day, so I guessed they had all gone to work.

I reached the landing and suddenly stopped in my tracks as I remembered I was where it had all gone wrong, when Phil had fallen and the last thing he saw before-

I ran up the stairs, leaping up two at a time, using my longish legs to full extent. It was a momental relief when I came to the door of the flat itself, the second landing out of my sight. But the wave of anxiety flooded over me when I knew I was entering the flat. The flat, which had been the happy home of Phil and I not so long ago. The flat, where everything had gone wrong, where I'd stormed in, the night after the catastrohpe at the restaurant. If only I'd calmed myself down more in that alleyway, things would be different. It's funny how tiny mistakes can make such a big impact on you.

Slowly, I slipped the key from my pocket, almost surprised it was still there. Although, I thought to myself, I hadn't exactly been moving around much in the hospital.

It jingled in my hands, almost a cheery sound, even though I knew the next few minutes of entering the flat would not be cheery in the slightest.

Carefully, I slipped the key into the lock and turned it, making the click-clack sound. I placed my hand on the door handle and slowly pushed down on it. I creaked slightly, and I pushed it open, inch by inch.

It looked like a black hole of terror inside the flat. Leaving the door open to let some light in, I ran down the shadowy hallway to the lightswitch.

But I misplaced the lightswitch, and because it was so dark, I ended up slamming into the wall at the far end.

"Fuck." I muttered angrily as I brought my hand so my throbbing nose. I felt it lightly with my hand. Nope, it wasn't broken. I was alright.

I then - more cautiously this time - felt around the walls for the lightswitch. Finding the familiar square shape jutting out of the wall, I flicked at the switch and the hallway was drowned with light.

I sighed deeply from pure relief, my heart thumping so loudly I could hear it in my ears. I hated the dark. It scared the living daylights out of me, not knowing what's behind you or in front, anything could come out and grab you.

Shaking my head at my stupid fear, I decided to head into the kitchen, but stopped in my tracks. Beside the doorframe was a small light stain. It was from a few days before the incident, when Phil had made himself cereal but tripped over and dropped the bowl on the way, the milk and cornflakes making a puddle on the carpet. I smiled at the memory of me scolding him for being a twit, and him laughing and saying,

"You love my clumsiness really." And grinning at me like crazy. I couldn't ever be mad at him for being clumsy, he was just so sweet I could never bring myself to do it.

He had always been such a clutz.

I stepped over the stain and directly into the kitchen. The first thing I realised was how cold it was in there... Actually, the whole flat was pretty freezing. I hugged my arms around myself tightly, thinking to get a jumper from my wardrobe later.

I stared around the cold, bleak kitchen. It was dark and shadowy, the worktops a foggy grey colour, not the marble black they usually were. There were multiple stains on the walls above the worktops where Phil had dropped several drinks and they had splattered upwards, being his usually silly self.

I turned round and fled from the kitchen. There were just too many happy memories from there, too many, all flying at me in my head.

"Phil! Can I have some hot chocolate?"
"Phil! This tea's gross. You put salt in the tea instead of sugar, you nit!"
"Phil! What did you break now?"
"Phil! Want to make some pancakes?"
"Phil! The dinner's ready! It's sausages!"
"Phil! Wake up! I'm making you breakfast!"
"Phil!"

"Phil?"

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wake up, phil - [phan]Where stories live. Discover now