That Night

Epilouge

Dan and Phil were both caught up in the memories from that night. What had happened. It seemed as though they were overreacting. About Sam. About the kiss they shared on Phil's engagement day. About the hospital. And just about everything. The whole thing seemed so blown out of proportion. Were they overreacting?

Dan

He was dying. It didn't matter now. If he tried to get help, it wouldn't work. The medicine never helped. It only worsened the hell he was in. He wanted to live, for Phil's sake, but that was also the reason he wanted to die.

He would just stare at Phil tear himself apart and not say anything. He wouldn't say anything. But he would watch. Study. Learn. He would fix anything he said that might upset him. Certain words were removed from his dictionary entirely. And it was all for Phil. All to try to make him better, all while he was getting worse, himself. His world was coming down. It was crumbling like a pastry. All of the things that made him happy, only made him more sad at remembering the good times before.

He was ready. He was ready to leave. The weeks before he tried were full of wait. Full of regret. But, simultaneously filled with joy. This world had put him through a meat grinder and then dunked him into a big shitload of bad luck and a topping of depression and worthlessness. He needed to punch his ticket. He was done working at the hell workshop filled with demons and horrible monsters that would tear you apart before you could ever have a chance to even introduce yourself and tell about you and your situation. They were ruthless. Merciless. Despicable.

It was time. The time was 4:36 pm on a Saturday afternoon in the month of March. He sat at the kitchen table and wrote. The pen and the paper creating a note of goodbyes and tears. Of self pity which had disappeared with the last of the ink. And it was done.

Dear Phil,

I know I've caused you loads of pain over the last bit of time. Know this,
It is. Not. Your. Fault. I did this to you. I am to blame. And now, I am giving myself the ultimate punishment. You were always so bright. So happy. My happy little Phil. But now, you are an emotionless void of despair and sadness. I used to be that way. But now, I am nothing. I a human who has served a time longer than wanted. I have tried to stop this awful energy that flows through my veins. The demons in my head beg me to write them and I don't. I've put it off too long. I need to end this madness. I've been scaring myself. All the thoughts have been merging and muffle the sounds of happiness that you put there. But, with your happiness gone, I am nothing. You are a young God. You need to live your life to the fullest. You can forget about me. Go back to Sam. You'll be happier with them then you ever were with me. I have to go now. I've stalled long enough. Goodbye, Phillip Lester.

Sincerely, Daniel Howell

He walked into the bathroom. Closed the door. The bath water had filled up enough so that the blood could be easily captured and it wouldn't go all over the bathtub. He had taken a knife from the kitchen and prepared it for the incision. He was crying. He was shaking. He took hold of the knife. He held it in his hands. He looked it over. He turned it towards him. He looked at the tip of the blade. It was sharp. He touched the end with his index finger. He felt a sharp pain at his fingertip. Blood. He wiped it on his pants. He looked at the knife once again. There was a picture of Phil on the counter. Along with a picture of Dan. He smashed it. His hand started bleeding. Blood filled the cracks of the broken glass. He looked at the knife. And plunged it into his torso. Blood spilled everywhere. He took the knife out of his chest with all of the strength he had left. He through the blood dripping knife down on the ground. The water in the bath started draining. It wasn't a lot  of water, so it drained rather quickly. All he remembered before blacking out was the sound of Phil banging on the door and screaming. Screaming how he couldn't lose Dan too. Dan whispered which his last breath : I'm so sorry, Phil... Darkness.

Phil

He burst through the door and saw the bloody knife on the floor. He saw Dan's body. There was blood everywhere. His eyes were closed. He wasn't breathing. He was dead. Phil tried to bring him back. He tried and tried but nothing worked. There was blood all over Phil now. He fell to the floor. He started wailing. Crying. Mourning. This was too much to comprehend. He wasn't dead. No. It couldn't be! He wouldn't accept it! This was not how he should have died. He should have died with Phil. While they were in the Hospital. In the same room. Together.. Or not at all... He stated crying even harder. Everything was in slow motion. His heart was beating so fast that it could have busted out of his chest at any moment. The Police tried to drag him away from his dead friend, but he cling to the lifeless corpse with every ounce of sanity he had left. He wasn't going to leave his friend behind! Not again!!

He was carry. Absolutely crazy. Mad. So, so mad. Angry. Crazy. Not the best combinations. He scratched at the officers, he loomed over the dead body like it was a pile of gold. But it wasn't. He knew it wasn't. The officers were scared. They called for a "mental ward" backup. Whatever the hell that meant. He was going to stay by his friend until he could burry him. He wasn't going to let him be forgotten. He screamed his name! He wanted everyone to know who he was! How great he was!! He was the only person who could understand him!!

BZZZzzzzZBZzzZzz!!!

The stunned him. His heart began to slow. His eyes began to close. And something was wrapped around his torso and he was blindfolded. The sights were gone. Only sounds and smells guided him.  He opened his eyes. It was all white. He expected to see Dan. But he was not here. Instead there was only white panels. White cushions. Everything was white. Even the people wore white. It was all white. And no one was there to help him. They all said they were. But they all thought he was crazy. All of them. They even put a clock in the walls. A clock.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The clock never stopped.