Trapped//Phan

Chapter Nineteen

*Italics=time at funeral*
And the date is 2009. Not important just background info.

Also. I'm gonna crazy are you ready??? I'm going to focus more on Phil than Dan on this chapter.
o.O
Totally crazy.
Call the police
It's getting out of hand.

I'm so lame XD
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Phil unlocked his front door.

Phil unlocked the car door to a gloomy sky. It was proabbly going to rain.

'So cliche.' Phil thought to himself and watched Dan get out.

Phil walked upon the dewey grass. It was perfectly cut with many stones written on them that held the sorrow and sadness of someone else.

'Jessica Black
1981-2002'

One gravestone read. Phil wondered how she died, since she was so young. He wondered if anyone was as upset as he was with Emily. He wondered a lot of thinks, but he kept walking, keeping his thoughts to himself.

"Phil!" His mother exclaimed briskly walking up to greet him.

Normally Phil would put on a smile, and greet her back. But not today. Besides, he had a right and reason not to smile today. "Hi mum." Phil mumbled.

"I'm making pasta." She announced, trying to brighten his mood.

Phil just nodded and told her he was going upstairs. Phil collapsed on his bed tiredly. Emotionally tired. Today was a big and long day. Phil glided his hands over his chest, reminding him of the position Emily as in.

Emily laid there. Pale arms, exposed arms. She wouldn't like that very much, so Phil rolled down the sleeves of the hoodie.

Hoodie.

They had her dressed comfortably for an eternity of death. Phil wishes he could see her again, the real her, to hug her, to hear her, to tell her that everything was going to be alright, and just to see her. Not this dead body, but Emily. It didn't make sense, not even to Phil, but then again it also made perfect sense.

Phil's brain had turned to mush trying to contimplate that, so he stopped. But he was still staring at Emily. In a black box. Out of all the times Phil had been to funerals, he never thought he would ever live to see Emily's. But life never gives anyone a chance to be happy. Just deceives them to think it's all okay.

One of the many curses of being alive.

Phil turned his head towards his phone. Dan hasn't texted; Phil didn't expect him too. But he was hoping that maybe Dan would text him and make him feel like he's not alone. But today he felt like he was. Because today he saw his best (and only) friend is dead.

Phil didn't pay attention to the priest. It was just a bunch of bullshit anyway. It was all fake, he just opened a book and read a random scripture. Phil looked at Dan, Dan held his down. Looking at the ground intensely. Everyone must've thought it was do no one would see him cry, but that's not true. Phil knew it was because he was looking at the place Emily would be in less than an hour.

Depressing really.

"Phil dinner is ready!" His mother shot him out of his flashback. Phil reluctantly got up and walked down stairs. He sniffed the air. The pasta smelled delicious, but it made his stomach churn from it. Phil nearly gagged when he thought about eating it.He just wasn't hungry.

Phil sat in the same chair he has been sitting in for over six years. Using the same table. Phil twirled thr pasta sith his fork, playing with his food, but not eating it.