ATOMS (THE SOCIETY)

v. in a homemade picture frame

chapter five. 🥀 episode two.
in a homemade picture frame

• • •

* WARNING: this chapter mostly focuses
on Phoebe's mourning period so please don't
read when you know you might get triggered
or affected.*

spring. 7:?? am , may 26
▬▬▬▬▬▬ phoebe beckett

The day subsequent to the expedition to the woods, Phoebe spent in bed. Her blanket was pulled up to her chin, pillows stained by tears, her blinds shut and nothing but silence for the whole day. No Marcus making breakfast, no Heather prying on her phone, no Ben and Luce arguing over the tv and  no texts from Emily.

Thoughts ran chaotically in her mind. Phoebe hated herself for just standing there, she hated herself for asking Emily to come with her. Grief burdened her heart. There was nothing that she could feel besides the emptiness of the room, the silence of the house, the coldness of her life. Fear nestled in her bones. She wondered about where Emily was no, whether she hated her for standing idly by, was she with Jasper? Was she at peace?

Around noon, ( Phoebe could tell it was noon by the way the sun tried so hard to pass through her blinds and curtains, it failed and the room remained dark with only the faintest undertone of yellow ) there was a knock on her door. When she gave no answer, the person on the other side spoke,

"Phoebe," She didn't recognise the voice. She could barely recognise anything, all she could recognise was the lack of Emily's presence, the absence of Emily's laugh. "It's Harry."

Phoebe closed her eyes and a heavy sign tumbled from her lips. She gave no answer and only pulled her blanket closer to her body. She opened her eyes once she heard the door squeak open. Harry came in dressed in a white button down and jeans. His hear was a mess and Phoebe couldn't quite tell because of the haze her tears had created but it looked like he was crying too.

"Hey." Harry said, his voice soft and gentle as he sat on the edge of her bed. "I brought you these." He pulled out his arm from behind him and stretched it out, displaying the seemingly freshly-picked flowers enclosed in his fist.

Phoebe looked at the flowers with complete indifference. There was no appreciation in her heart, there were no thoughts of admiration in her mind. She stayed silent and curled into a ball under her blanket.

"Have you had lunch?" Harry asked, his tone gentle. "Did you even have breakfast?" He heaved a sigh when he received no answer. "Um, just came cause I wanted to let you know that they've buried her. And uh...there's flowers everyone and people are seeing her everyday."

"Fuck off." It was barely a whisper but Phoebe knew Harry heard it all the same.

"What?" Harry asked leaning forward.