This Is Gospel -Phan-

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Phillip looks across the table at his absent brother's chair.  He had obviously gotten away with whatever he did the night before, and was still out today.

Phillip looks longingly at the front door that led to the front yard, the entrance to his escape just five yards away.  He always loved to be outside. He wasn't sure if it was the fresh breeze that came and blew away all of his worries, or if it were the birds chirping, reminding him not to chase after them.  Right now, he wanted nothing more than to sit in the grass and embrace the world, away from the awkward silence and the screeching of forks against plates at breakfast.

After what felt like forever, Philip was excused from the table by his mother. Right away, he stood up, pushed in his chair, sped up the hall and opened the door, all in what seemed like one move.

Philip was greeted by the most inviting gust of cool air he's ever felt in his life.  His loose flannel pajama bottoms rippled in the wind, and the morning dew collected in droplets between his toes.  Philip realized that he was never able to take the beauty of his new environment in when he first arrived, so he decided to do a bit of exploring.  He finds his feet carrying him in a steady pace to a serene weeping willow tree.  One foot after the other, like an internal metronome.  The soft tufts of willow leaves swayed gently in the breeze, coaxing Philip to caress its tender, jade blades.  He then looks up at the sun, remembering a game he used to play with himself when he was little, where he would see how long he could look at the blinding light without blinking.  The strong rays immediately brought tears to his eyes, and he looks back at his feet, nostalgia flooding through him.  The wind pushes Phillip's raven hair back, revealing his pale forehead as he starts around the perimeter of the colonial house, the white paint beginning to peel off the sides.

All of a sudden, he sees a stream of what he thinks is water pouring out of the house window above him.  Philip at first thinks it's just a leaky gutter- he would have to notify his father about that- but is absolutely appalled when he finds the source of the stream.

"Martyn, what the heck?  What do you think you're doing, exposed and out the window?! Aren't you cold?"

Martyn sloshed a beer in one hand, ending up spilling half of it out the window, along with his... other fluids.

Is he... urinating?  What on earth had him so intoxicated that he was doing something as dull as this?

"You idiot, stop doing that before someone sees!"  Philip couldn't believe his eyes- his brother was climbing out the window from the second floor.  Similar to last night's act, he reaches towards the tree and started wobbling on one foot, the other hanging out the window.  Philip stood on his toes to try to take a quick look through the window to see if Martyn would be able to close the distance between himself and the tree branch, when he noticed his room, completely torn up and ruined, papers flying about.

Philip was truly appalled.  His brother, his sweet, respectful, pompous brother who wouldn't dare to even touch as much as an empty beer bottle, was completely wasted.

Philip began to run after Martyn, questions flying through his head as soon as he dropped from the lowest branch of the tree, but suddenly stops before he even started.  What's the point?  He asked himself.  His gaze shifted back to his bedroom window, not even processing it when he sees the last of his brother run to the front yard, letting out a whoop.  If one of his parents happened to somehow notice the state of his room, he wouldn't live to see another day. 

After taking a short minute to gather his breath and wait for his heart slow down, as running was something he didn't do very often, Philip ran back around the house to the front porch. He took one last glance over his shoulder at the pavement that seemed to stretch on forever along the street for a sign of his brother before running back into his room.