Craft (Dan & Phil)

Reflection

He was staring out the window again, an un-drunken mug of coffee clutched between his tightly knitted hands. The sky was grey, reflecting his mood, storm clouds gathered above his head, rain splattering against the window pane. Dan stared out, the mug was burning his hands, but he didn't care.

He had changed since Phil died.

The world was grey. There was no colour anymore. What was the point of colour? The only colour he wanted to see was the blue shade of Phil's eyes. But he only ever saw that in photographs. Heartbreaking photo's of Phil laughing and even the grin on his own face seemed so foreign.

Dan couldn't tear his eyes away from the gloomy scene outside. He knew he had to move on. Find someone else. Do something. He couldn't stay absorbed in sorrow forever.

But he didn't want to. He didn't want anyone but Phil.

In the reflection in the window, Dan saw a flicker- a shadow moving behind him and spun himself round but he saw nothing. He scanned the scene but it empty. He shook his head. Paranoid.

"Dan!" It was a cry. This time Dan was certain he heard it. He placed the mug down heavily on the desk and stood up.

He held his breath, straining to hear the sound again, desperate to grab onto anything that would tell him he wasn't crazy.

"Dan!" The voice sounded right beside him yet so far away.

"Phil?" He whispered. His heart pounded- he didn't know what he wanted. Did he want it to be real? Phil was dead. Phil's dead.

"Dan," the sound lasted longer this time and Dan was almost sure Phil was right there with him.

Another shiver in the window and Dan's heart pounced in his chest as he turned to stare straight into a reflection of Phil. The figure was translucent in the glass, a wisp of a person, a memory- but there was no mistaking his complexion of black hair and pale skin and he was certain it was real as Phil's blue eyes staring into Dan's. He was just as alive as he had been before the incident occurred.

"Oh my God-" Dan glanced back over his shoulder, but no one was there. Dan was terrified. Phil. Phil was nothing more than a transparent reflection on the window- but he was there. He was there!

"Dan," Phil's lips moved and the words rang out, this time more clear than ever. Dan's jaw was open and he sat down opposite the window, staring at Phil, dumbstruck.

"Wha- how- Phil!" He exclaimed.

"Dan, Dan, it's me!" Replied Phil's voice excitedly. "Dan- I'm dead-"

"I know- how-?"

"I don't know-" Phil's eyes were wide; Dan paced slowly towards the window and places the tips of his fingers against the cold glass trying to reach out to his friend. But Phil didn't shift. He let his hand fall, he was too shocked to burst into tears as he stared at Phil bemused.

"Are you real?" He found himself asking unable to tear his eyes from Phil's.

"I don't know," said Phil sticking out his hands to look at them. "I mean, I think I'm real-?"

Dan let out a short laugh, disappearing into a breath. He wasn't sure if he wanted to start laughing or burst into tears.

"Phil," beamed Dan tearfully. Phil looked back up at him a wide grin stretched across his excited face. Dan's face light up and they laughed awkwardly until Dan's face fell. "Phil," he said. "You're dead."