I'd Do Anything: A Phanfiction

Chapter 23

Chapter 23

I felt so bad for him. Phil truly believed Jessica’s suicide was his fault. I mean I probably would too if I were in his position, but from my position, I can see that it really wasn’t.

I just wish Phil could see that too.

I want to be there for him, but I’ve been put in a very awkward position.

First of all, I’m shit at comforting someone. Second, add on to that that our relationship is sort of in this “I won’t talk to you if you don’t talk to me” phase. And to top it all off, I think I have fucking feelings for this boy.

It’s like I want to hug/maybe even kiss him, or provide so sort of comfort, but at the same time I feel like I’m not allowed to talk to him. 

Since learning about her suicide, I’ve locked myself in my room out of frustration. I come out to eat, and check on Phil.  I mostly just see him slouched or laying on the couch with re-runs of shows that he’s probably not watching even though he's staring at the screen.

I found out when Jessica’s memorial things were supposed to be, and that brings us to now. Phil and I were currently sitting towards the back of this darkened room inside a church building filled with maybe 200 of Jessica’s friends and family. I felt like we were the odd ones out though because the room was mostly 15-16 year old girls (and a few boys) and older men and women.

There was some quiet Christian music playing. There was also a main table set up in the front with her picture, some candles, a cross, some pens and papers, and a basket to put your notes to her in. Likewise, there were a couple of similar, but smaller tables sets up for her various family members.

Phil and I were just sitting awkwardly waiting for something to happen. I didn’t want to get up and write a note her because that would draw attention to me, and besides what do you even say to a dead person you didn’t particularly like?

Phil sniffled, and I looked over to see his eyes tearing up a bit.

“Phil, are you okay?” I asked in a whisper.

“No.” He replied without turning. I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I sat there quietly for a moment. I don’t know why, but for some reason I though putting one arm around him would be a good response, so I found myself doing that.

I guess it kinda worked because then Phil hugged me and silently cried a little on my shoulder. I started to feel a little self-conscious because we were in a public place with a bunch of old, most likely religious men and women. I don't know what any of them thought of my gesture, but I felt like I was getting disapproving glares from some homophobic people. Again, I had no way to tell, but I just had a feeling.

“Hello everyone.” A guy had come to the front of the room, which made Phil pull away and wipe his eyes. I gratefully took my arm back and turned my attention to the guy speaking.

“Thank you all for gathering here today. If at any moment, you need to step out, feel free to, and Simon and myself will be free to talk to after if you need to. Anyways, my name’s Mark, and Jessica’s family asked if I would do something for her and I couldn’t refuse.” the guy, apparently called Mark, said into a microphone.

“Jessica was the one of our church’s greatest volunteers. Sometimes I wondered how she was able to help out so much while maintaining such high marks.” He said with a little laugh. “Jessica’s parents have asked me to read this next part. It’s uh… well her note… Jessica’s last thoughts. So if anyone does not wish to hear it, that is understandable. Don’t feel like you’re being disrespectful because the Jessica I know would slap you for doing something you were uncomfortable with.” With this said, a couple of teenage girls and one middle aged woman stepped out.