It Was A Cold November Night [PHAN]

4.The Best Part Of "Believe" Is The "Lie"

There was a whole ocean to himself.The wind would brush away his hair and he would just float on the water,fearless,with nothing left to hurt him.Maybe this was the end.Although it felt like it was the most painless,peacefull end he could ever reach.Perhaps the world would shrink into his eyes,destroying all that used to matter.All that would never matter anymore.He was gone,and it was the best feeling he could ever have.Living on his own.In his mind,he would always live.He would always win.He had a whole ocean to himself,to his eyes.And he felt powerful.

When Ms. Martin read my essay in Creative Writing class that afternoon,she was surprisingly stunned.I just sighed at her crazy compliments.You see,I did nothing.I just wrote the dream-the nightmare I had the night before.

I don't always sleep-but when I do,I get nightmares.I call them nightmares because people always die in them,one way or another.I've seen Dad die,but it had mostly been Mum.She dies and dies and dies over again.And then I die,in the end.

But last night,it wasn't the same nightmare.It starred only one person: Phil.Although I hadn't seen him or talked to him in a week,he was there,floating on the ocean of his eyes.And he was
definitely dead.

I didn't know what to do.It was my 8th day in Oakville,and I had no idea how I could get out of my misery.Every morning I would get up,get dressed,look at my ugly reflection in the mirror and hate myself even more than yesterday - it was just a non-stop torture.

And it was weird,how I needed to always see him after talking to him for like,five minutes.Everyday would pass and in group sessions I just tried not to look at him.I would skip breakfast just because I didn't want to see him in the morning.At lunch,I would sit on the most remote table with this awkward guy,Chris,and I would leave after ten minutes.

You see,I didn't want to see him.I needed to.

I also needed to end this fucking shit they called my life.

So you can't imagine how I felt when I saw the front door open that day.

Maybe someone forgot to close it.Maybe it was deliberate.I knew that I could sneak out of campus,get to the right,get past the woods,and it was the deep blue sea right down the cliff,with me having the first class seat for the flight.

And I did.With my heart aching in my chest and my whole body shaking.I was ready to jump,to get rid of myself.

It was getting dark fast.I knew sooner or later they would notice I wasn't around.So I just hurried up.I ran,like someone was after me.I didn't care about the tree branches scotching my face and hands.I didn't care.I didn't care.

But I still cared about Phil.

God,what the fuck is wrong with me?!

There it was: the highest cliff,waiting for me to jump off it.It was already dusk,but I could still see the moon.

To go further,I had to walk with the wet grass covering my anckles.I didn't even blink against the wind.I had nothing to lose.
Not anymore.

I reached the edge,closed my eyes and let my mind become blank of everything but this question:

What am I doing up here?

Of course,I was gonna jump.But that's the question I always used to ask myself before I do it.All those four times,I would ask myself what lead me all this way, what made me hate myself this much.And there were loads of answers that I didn't really wanna think about.

I took a deep breath,and asked the ocean.

"What am I doing here? "

Nothing.Of course there was nothing.No one was there to answer me.

I looked down.Drowning was never my favorite way to go.They said it was more painful in salty waters,that it was like you were drowning in your own blood or something.but I didn't actually gave a shit about pain right now.I just wanted it all to be over.

The wind began blowing, like it wanted to stop me from taking another step.But I was determined enough to ignore it.I was determined enough to ignore the whole fucking world,I guess.

"Dan? "

I immediately turned around to see who was calling my name in such a shaky voice.Right then,I noticed that I was crying.

It was Phil.

He looked even more pale.His eyes,the widest they could be,and he started coming towards me in an even pace, and held his hand for me."C'mon,let's get out of here.I want to start a really good book,I can read it to you."

I didn't respond.I didn't move,I just stared at him with tears stains running down my cheeks.I tried to say something,but my voice just cracked pathetically.

I was still shaking from the cold wind that was blowing all over my head. He came closer,took my hand and slowly moved me away from the edge of the cliff.I tried to say "No,let me do this!"but my labored breaths failed to do it.

When we were a good seven feet away from the headland,he let out a breath in relief and hugged me.Right there,with me shaking in my black T-shirt that said:Why explore the universe when we don't know ourselves.And in that moment,I didn't feel like shit.In just one millisecond after years and years of feeling all the unwantedness in the world,I felt...happy?

I think I felt happy.Happy that he was there,that he pulled me away.That he didn't let me do it,eventhough I wanted it before he did.

"We can go back to my room,and you can lie down on the other bed."Phil said in a reassuring voice,and took my hand again.I didn't know how lying on a bed would help me,but I just obeyed him.I just let him take me back to campus.

He lead us through another path and we ended up entering Oakville from another door."This one doesn't have cameras."He explained."Only a few have the permission to get outside,and we should all be back before dark.I can't let them see you."

So we sneaked to the main hall,and we really didn't need to do that.The whole hall was full of every Oakville resident: staff and kids and they were all gathered in one place.Phil didn't let go of my hand,and we made our way to where the action was - and we saw it.

There was the quiet,awkward Chris; lying on the green carpet,lifeless and limp.His brown hair a mess,his hand still grabbing an empty bottle of water.

The whole scene reminded me of something,something that I had tried so hard to erase from my memory.And it was there,grinning and waving hands because it was back into my head again.

Chris is dead. I repeated it in my head over and over again.Phil's hand still in mine,and I pressed it so hard.He didn't react.He must be so strong, I thought.

But all of these thoughts couldn't distract me from the whole point of us standing there.

Chris was dead.

And I would be,too;if Phil wasn't there,I would be too.