The Complexities of Mr Howell

Chapter 3 - Dan's p.o.v.

I got to my mother's door and put on a brave face, a fake smile to convince her that everything was okay, that I was okay; all the while, my culpability and yearning decoured me from the inside. No one could know what I did to her. Especially not Phil...

I knocked. No answer. I turned my key in the lock, opening the door to a surprisingly desolate house. Phil, who was still exclaiming his delight with his encounter, went straight to the kitchen and poured a glass of milk from the fridge, not noticing the emptiness of the house as virtual tumbleweed drifted across the floor.

"Hey Phil, what's the date today?" I asked. Phil stopped and gulp down his milk, looking at his phone.
"October 10th" he responded, his forehead creased, clearly concerned, "why?"
"The family annual camping trip I refuse to go on, it's today. My mum won't be home for a while"

Phil's brow smoothed out as he smirked and declared "You know what means." ...Oh Phil.
"You make it sound so sexual-"
"MOVIE NIGHT!!" Phil blurted out, throwing his hands in the air and running around the house.

Already out of breath, he immediately stopped, panting. He sat down and grabbed his laptop and opened up Facebook. "Is it too soon to ask her about what lighting she uses?" Phil asked craneing his neck and looking up at me. "Who...?" I asked, washing up the empty milk glass he had left on the counter. "Charlie, I mean, my lamps are a bit dim and..."

All I heard was white noise. While thoughts overwhelmed me, the emotions I was suppressing built, their fight to escape ailing my lungs.

"Mmmmm" I uttered, dragging my feet across the carpet and stumbling up the stairs. I got to the bathroom and locked the door.

I felt tears run down my face as my limbs collapsed beneath me and I slid down the bathroom wall into a heap on the floor. Why can't she remember? We had something special, I loved her so much. I still do. I smothered my face with my hands. After a while I looked up. The light from the bathroom lamp stung my eyes. I deserved the pain. How could I have done it? I felt the guilt crush my chest as I hung my head in shame.

I sat there in a ball, sobbing, for about 10 minutes until I heard a knock on the door. I heard Phil's timid voice whisper through a slit in the door, "Dan? Are you alright? Dan?"

I wiped my eyes, got up, still shaking, and unlocked the door. Phil looked scared. I, again, collapsed but this time into his arms.
"Dan, what's up?" he said, me still sobbing into his collar bone, "it's nothing" I replied, letting go of him and locking myself in my room.

I settled down a bit, changed into a fresh pair of pants and an old t-shirt, and lay down to sleep, with the occasional sob escaping my lips.