The white walls were comforting. They were all like one big cushion that was still firm and needed breaking in. They comforted him. The man would often come in and gave him the things he needed to survive. He constantly thought about his friend. How he had died. The pain he must have felt. The torture that must have consumed him like a small magnet in a pile of magnetic putty. His brain felt like putty. Always on drugs. Never being able to be let out of his room. It was a solitary life he lived. But, it was better now. He wasn't nearly as sad.
When his friend died it took everything away from him. He felt his mind slipping farther down the rabbit hole he had been told about. He wanted more than anything else to bring him back into his life. Or just to leave. None of this was worth the trouble. It was all useless. He knew it. He tried to forget. But he couldn't. With his friend just lying there. Dead. He tried to reach up to fix his fringe, but his hole upper body was contained in a creme cloth that entrapped him in a world in which he couldn't escape. But, he had his health now, or that's just what the nice lady in white said to him after giving him his food. He didn't know. He didn't know what to believe in or what to think. But he knew one thing for certain: he was the reason that Dan Howell was dead.
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That Night
FanfictionA Dan and Phil Phanfiction Dan and Phil have a fight, causing Dan to move out of their London Apartment. Phil gets into a relationship with someone named Sam. Sam and Dan are new roommates and Sam wants Dan to come to meet Phil, as they think he wou...
