The Game of Life {Completed}

Fourteen

Almost two weeks later and the final week before winter break I mustered up the courage to go to school. Was courage the right word? Courage is defined by "the ability to do something that frightens one." I wasn't afraid of going back to school. I was procrastinating my right to join in a building where I could be in the same room as my ex and the girl he cheated on me with. It wasn't courage to go back. It was facing the fact that I would never erase his face from my memory, especially the one I saw when he was on top of my friend. It was facing the fact that the problem wasn't going to get solved, and then trying to say that there wasn't one, and that it had been solved when I told the guy I thought I loved to fuck off.

Clad in my usual all black attire, I walked to school with an invisible black cloud above my head. I knew no one would care about my disappearance- not even my teachers. No one would ask where I had been, or if I had actually ODed, or ask to prove any of the other rumors that went around to be true. Where there even any rumors? I was so low profile that I doubt anyone even started a rumor.

I walked up to the gates of hell just as the bell rang. Great way to come back, I thought. Might as well make an entrance. I wasn't one to ever throw myself out there, or to be spontaneous, or do anything just for the hell of it. But today, I couldn't help myself. I was in that stage of breakup depression where I just didn't give a shit. Nothing was worth anything and I had nothing to lose anymore. I slammed my locker open and closed, making a statement with my squeaky wet shoes as I walked down the hall. Knowing the door of my first period didn't lock, I threw it open when I walked in. I wasn't aiming for it to bang against the wall or fly off the hinges, but I managed to have it thump against the wall and stop the teacher mid-sentence.

"Well, hello Mr. Howell. Care to join us?" The teacher said in a sarcastically sassy voice. I shrugged and made my way to my seat in the back. I didn't listen to a word she said, instead going through my photos of Phil and I. It was like a typical movie breakup, where I was the heartbroken girl that spent all her time with her lost lover on her mind. The bell rang and I walked at a leisurely pace to my next hour. It wasn't until third period that the day took a turn. I walked into the class to see, of course, Phil sat right in the middle of the room. He saw me and had a shocked look for a moment, but son exchanged it for a soft smile. I rolled my eyes and shook my head as I walked passed him at the back of the room, where I could watch him and see if he tried to watch me. I felt my phone buzz and the way Phil turned his head only slightly to see me told me it was him that sent the text. My phone buzzed three more times before I looked at it out of anger and annoyance.

Phil x_x: Hey

Phil x_x: Dan please

Phil x_x: im beyond sorry just please talk to me

Phil x_x: babe im so fucking sorry can you please just say something?

Me: I told you to FUCK OFF, Phil. Don't make me have to fucking say it again.

The way he looked back and his kind eyes met my teary-eyes once told me he was definitely shocked I was swearing at such an extent. But like I said, I lost all caring. I haven't got shit to lose. When the bell rang for lunch I walk out, seemingly to get food, but only to leave for the day. And the rest of the week. I didn't want to see his crystal ocean eyes, or his reflectively pale skin, or... anything. I didn't want to see him. But it seemed no matter how much I tried to tell myself that, I knew I did. I knew I wanted to see him, and let him try to apologise, and make it all better again. But I also knew that if I did that, it gave him permission to do it again. It told him it was okay and that I would forgive him every time, making it okay for him. And I wasn't going to do that.

I continued to ignore message after message from Phil and Sandy. It got too annoying to hear my phone buzzing at late hours and throughout the day that I turned off the notifications for both of their contacts. I didn't care what they had to say anymore. I didn't care what they thought of me ignoring them. Or how they were doing without me. I didn't care anymore. 

Christmas break finally came, which meant traveling north to visit my father's mom, who was my grandma. She was sweet and against my father's drinking, which meant he had to start sobering up three days before the visit. This meant three weeks of on and off drinking, trying to sober up ahead of time. Finally alcohol free, my father grumbled as we loaded up all of our bags and got in the car. It was five a.m. and we would be driving for six hours, so I found myself curled up and trying to sleep.

I woke up almost two hours later to my parents yelling at each other.

"Get your fat ass away from my goddamn whiskey, old man. You've gotta stay sober for your poor old mother, even though you know she's given up on you. Come on, you're fat, have got a faggot son, do nothing but sit on your ass all da-"

"Hey! Shut the fuck up, yeah! It's your goddamn fault we have to see her in the first place. You're the one that charmed her into it, so don't fucking blame it on my ass. And this faggot son sure as hell ain't all my doin'. You're the one that squeezed him out of your old vagina, an-" Wham. And just like that, everything was gone.

I got a phone call from an unknown number. I usually didn't pick up unknown numbers, but I was bored and thought I might was well. Right choice.

"Is this Phil Lester?" a kind female voice spoke, thought she seemed worried.

"Um, yes. Who is this?"

"This is the London ER. You know Daniel Howell?" No. What did you do, Dan. Please don't tell me she's going to say what I think.

"Um, yes, is he alright?" I asked, growing more worried. There was silence for a moment, which was only a bad sign.

"I- I'm so sorry, but, your friend has passed. He was involved in a very bad accident, an-" I hung up. No. No no no no no! I could've done something. I could've helped him. And maybe I couldn't have but, at least I could have known him in that time. I could have wordlessly assured him it would be okay, though neither of us had a clue it would happen. I could've helped, I know it. I fell to the floor, stumbling a bit, until I was a mess of ears. Choked sobs and broken breaths fill my room.

"He's gone! He's gone, and it's my fault!" A small part of me knew I wouldn't have done anything to stop the crash. But the other part knows that if I hadn't done what I did, I could have changed something, anything. Even if it wouldn't have saved him, it would have saved my sanity.

I attended his funeral three days later, though there wasn't a body to look at, which made it worse. It made it seem too much more real. It was like spelling it out all to clearly that he was gone, and he wasn't coming back. I fought tears as relatives spoke about him, though none of them could do justice.

"Dan was a kind young boy..." really? That's all you've got to say? Dan was the most intelligent, funny, warm-hearted person you would ever meet. "His eyes were always so full of hope..." No. His eyes were a gorgeous chestnut shade with specks of yellow that made them pop and shine. I loved him, so goddamn much. But I couldn't show it the way I was meant to. I fucked it all up. I tried to focus on the words of his relatives, but the tears were falling and I had to excuse myself. I sat in the hall with my head in my hands, crying my heart out.

"I love you so much, Dan," I whispered. "And that's the truth. You deserve that much." Dan had played the Game of Life, and unfortunately, his turn ended too soon. 

Heyo! Fuck so that was the final chapter. 1) thank you so so much for reading <3 2) I hope I greatly infuriated you with that sad ending :) I'm kidding, but I do hope that you enjoyed it. I will definitely have more stuff coming out soon, but it might be little while, idk. ANYWAY thank you so much for reading, I really hope you enjoyed it, and goodbye!