Requiem For A Dream // Phan

7; Forgive you? Yeah, right.

**TW**

Quote of the Day: If its meant to be, it will be.

Question of the Day: Are you religious? If so, what's your religion like?

Phil's View

"Okay, I deserved that. . ." He said as he gripped his jaw, almost checking if it were broke. Bruised, yeah, not broke though.

"Answer my question." I sat down on the plastic chairs of death and so did he,

"Okay, look, do you want the truth? Or the half-truth?" I eased up on him, recollecting my personal instincts.

"Whatever seems fit to you,"

"Okay well, he has been on heroin for a long time. I think he's gonna be okay though."

"So, what's the full truth?" I sighed,

"He's completely fucked, he's been doing heroin ever since you left him. Every single day, I'd find him in the guest room doing some type of fuckin' drug. Whether it was coke, ecstasy, Oxy, whatever he could get his hands on, he did. Alcohol as well. He drinks like crazy but he's not violent like me, he's an emotional drunk. He cuts a lot, I saw him do it once. Right in front of me. . . "

"Why the hell is he doing this to himself . . . ?"

"You."

"Excuse me?" Hearing that come from someone else's mouth instead of my own mind telling me, was kind of heart-wrenching.

"You. No offense or anything, but you're kinda the reason he's all fucked up. I mean, yeah, I gave this to him, not for free, of course, but I pitied him. Like extremely, he was a wreck. What the fuck even happened between you two? I'm so confused. You were fine . . . right?"

"When was the first time?" My voice shook, my eyes stung and I felt my head become fuzzy, this was my fault. I avoided the question completely. The reason was stupid, and not even a reason to break up.

"Back in December,"

"Almost eight fucking months, Jesus christ Bren. Why didn't you ever stop him?"

"Because I was high as well, and he paid good fucking money." Of course.

"Lester?" My head surely had whip-lashed when the nurse called my name.

"That's me," I stood up and went over to her, crossing my arms.

"He okay?" I asked,

"Yes, he's a lucky one too, he's going in for surgery a little while later."

"Okay, he uh-" My heart rate quickened " He won't lose his arm, will he?"

"No, but if you had waited longer, he would have. Just come by tomorrow, visiting hours are 12-5. You can see him when its time, but make sure he doesn't do anything to that arm for two weeks. I recommend him going to rehab. He's struggling. You have a nice day, Mr. Lester,"

"Yeah, you too miss. . ." I walked back to Brendon, with the rehab card.

"Maybe, you should do this too-"

"Uh, no. I'm fine." He scoffed and looked back to the ground. I sighed and looked at my surroundings. The nurse I was just talking to was reeling a child to the next ER room, next to one where a lady was sitting down and staring into nothing.

"I think we should get going," I said and he nodded.

I walked out to the lot and got into my car. As soon as I got in, I slammed my head on the wheel and just broke down. He wouldn't have been like this if it weren't from me. I punched the wheel a few times and just sat there. I sighed again, wiping the remainder of tears off of my face. I turned on the car and headed back to the apartment.

By the time I got there, I slid down the door and put my knees on my chest. I breathed in the scent of coconuts and alcohol in the apartment. I stood up and went into Dan's room, I leaned on the side of the door and put my legs over the other and just stared at it.

I pulled out my phone and dialed the number,

"Hello this is Manchester's Rehab center, How may I help you?"