Phanfic Collection

The ghost only I knew

Summary: Dan tells you the story of his guardian angel Phil. Based off a Mumford and sons song called "the ghosts we knew"
Warnings: this talks about self harm and bullying. It's very cute and sad.
Words: 1.2k
A/N: it is loosely based off the song cause it does have to be a story and it does have to be cute for it to be sad so I tried. I love the song I recommend you listen to the band they're very good. I mainly wrote this because I want pop to know there's always someone out there who will listen to you and honestly if you need anything- message me! I won't judge I'll listen and I will give the best advice and shoulder to cry on that I can. Stay safe. Stay happy. It took me a while to decide if I should post it. But... Sorry this took so long. Please enjoy :) I cried a little whilst writing this...

Did you know angels walk among us. They walk along side the demons that we call ghosts or poltergeists. Sometimes our angels are misunderstood. They're believed to be one of those devils. And they're not.
Sometimes you'll swear they're humans. Like really good friends. Or people who have been there in our darkest time.
The definition for angel or even hero differs from person to person.
For me it's the ghost I knew. And his name was Phil.
You see, Phil was there for everything.
And I mean everything.
When I was born, he was there in the corner of the room smiling, listening to my first cries.
When I was taking my first steps, he was stood behind my mother holding his arms out, again with his wide smile. And he clapped and cheered when I made it to the safety of my mothers grip.
If you could have seen it, you might have seen him shed one single tear of happiness.
When I was saying my first word he was there. Sat beside me, saying the sounds with me. Even though he couldn't be heard by anyone but me.
When I was chocking on that boiled sweet he tried calling for my dad.
Who of corse couldn't hear.
So instead he pushed things off the edge of the kitchen counter. So my dad looked up and saw me. And whilst my dad picked me up and shook me upside down,Phil stood and watched. Praying for the sweet to leave. And when it did, he sighed in relief and sat near me rubbing my back.
At my first day of school he was beside me, helping me learn my A B C's. And when the teacher told me to stand at the front and say them to the class, he stood proudly and watched as I recited the letters.
When I got to K I panicked. So Phil started acting like a lion so I remembered L came next. 
Then at play time when no kids came to play with me, he crouched in front of me and smiled.
"See that boy over there" he said pointed to the far corner. "Let's go play with him"
"But I want to play with you Phil" I whined. So Phil walked with me to the boy called Lewis and got me to play with him. He ran around with us until I became so distracted with my new friend that I didn't notice he stopped and just watched.
I used to ask my mum to make Phil some teletubby toast so he could eat it too. So my mum smiled and made Phil some. She said she liked my "imaginary friend". Well I guess you could call him that. But I to me- he was just my friend. My best friend.

I fell over and scrapped my knee in the playground. So Phil walked with me to the nurse and helped clean it up so she could give me a plaster.
He said I was a big boy and he was proud of me for not crying. He said I was strong.
But I wasn't.
In high school when the dick heads picked me as their target. He helped me clean bruises and he wiped my tears.
When they put nasty and dirty things in my locker, he helped me clean everything and put it back. He even started moving things, like their pencils, so they got confused, which always made me giggle.
Once I was sat in the bathroom. Staring at a blade that was made for a pencil sharpener, but it was now out and it was tormenting me. And Phil noticed. He came in and put the blade away. He walked me to my room. Made me play my favourite film. And sat beside me the entire time.
Phil knew everything about me. He knew my thoughts. My feelings. My favourite foods and things to do. He knew what game I'd pick to procrastinate. He knew all my mannerisms. He knew I mumbled and that I hated being left handed.
Sometimes I thought he knew me better then I did.
But there was that one thing I wouldn't let him know.
I was broken.
No matter how many times Phil took me to the nurse to clean up cuts that I'd gotten from being pushed by the bullies. I was broken inside.
And a few times I locked him out.
Phil caught on and hid that blade and to this day I don't know where it is.
But a mirror smashed in my room. I snook a broken piece into the bathroom and let it do it's work.
Effortlessly gliding across my arm, like a the finest paint brush on a new canvas. But the only colour this brush made was red.
Deep and dark, dripping on the floor so slowly, it was like death itself watching them.
And watching Phil's face when I finally opened the bathroom door... was something I'll never forget. His smile dropped and he walked straight up to me.
He smoothed my hair and my cheeks and kissed my cheek. Then washed my battered arm and wrapped it up.
It seemed no matter what I did, I couldn't disappoint him.
In the darkness we call life, he became my light, my beacon of hope and happiness.
He did everything. And the thing that meant the most was- he cared.
I should be scared of ghosts. But I love this one with all my heart.
The bestest friend I could have ever asked for.
The friend I didn't deserve.

And now he's going away.
He's falling from my grip. He's flickering from view.
"Just promise me we'll be okay" I whispered in to the now empty air.
Now I've got to live the rest of my long life without him.
Phil will always be that hope in my darkness, so I will see the light.
Ill always be strong. I'll hold on. Because that's what he wanted.

Lead me back.
I would walk south, walking backwards forever.

I close my eyes as tightly as I can. Holding them shut. Hoping and praying with all my might that when I open my eyes Phil will be stood there.
Smiling at me.

I remember sometimes when he was especially happy or proud he'd smile so wide that his tongue would stick out the side of his mouth ever so slightly.

I'd do anything to see him one more time...

He knows my call. He knows when I need him. And whilst I need him now and I want him now- the thing is- I don't.
It's like he cured me.
So now he's helping another child. And I hope he's doing alright. I hope that that child is as happy as I was because they are so lucky. I hope they stay safe.
And I hope he doesn't forget me.

I know I'll never forget him.

I wish he could still hold me. Keep my beating and fixed heart next to his.

I tried to be in pain. As bad as that sounds. I tried to end it all. But I couldn't bring myself to do it.
Not even to draw one last red line across my forearm.
Because of Phil.

He was everything I could have dreamed for, my doctor who cured me, my therapist who listened to me, my teacher who taught me, my guardian who wiped my tears and re built my hope.

He was my angel who saved my life.

Let me hope in the darkness that I will see the light. Because it used to give me such a fright. And I will hold onto him and all my memories with all my might.

I promise you that you'll be alright, that I'll be alright.

The ghost that I knew, will flicker from view.
And I'll live a long life.

All thanks to you...