AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-
Dan's POV
After that, Amber and I didn't know what to do with ourselves. I haven't touched YouTube since... That day. I couldn't. I haven't even tweeted, and I have no doubt people are starting to worry, Amber included.
Now, as I kneel on the dirt, I can't help but ask myself what the point was, and why all of this had to happen.
Four graves.
Four graves for the once-loved ones lost too soon.
Three bouquets.
Three bouquets of flowers for the ones I've lost to the fault of others or themselves.
Two best friends.
Two best friends I had lost – one at the loaded barrel of the other, face bruised with blunt trauma, another to the empty barrel of a psychopath.
One left alive.
One left alive on the hill, out of will and hope.
In this cemetery I sit, salted rain trickling down my face, leaking from the ducts. I never told Phil about my frequent visits here to see Georgia, I think he still knew though, and I think guilt haunted him more than the ghost of her.
It seems so clear now – so much explained where there were only holes filled by speculative doubt, now overflowing with a dark potion of truth.
I don't hate him, though.
I should, but I loved him. God, I loved him so much. I know he regretted it, regretting even more that he never got to tell me
himself.
I had them all buried on this hill, bodies found or not. This small hill told more stories than any book ever could, truths softly whispered in the dark moonlight to nobody in the wind.
Georgia Goole – 1995-2019
My best friend, life stolen by the one I love.
Connor Fisher – 1989-2019
An eye for an eye and the world goes blind, but I was willing to sacrifice my vision.
Philip Michael Lester – 1987-2019
The love of my life, no matter what he did. We may have been
toxic, but he's the best I've ever had.
Joshua Evans- 2000-2019
I didn't see the text until it was too late.
I don't know how long I sat in the dirt, staring at those four names, but I didn't stop when I heard footsteps, quick, heavy and growing louder as they tread across the grass, damp from the cold night.
"I thought I'd find you here, in your little happy place." The voice was masked, so I couldn't decipher it, even though the low pitch caused a sense of familiarity to pass through me. I gazed upon the figure.
The night was dark and without stars, much like their hoodie and mask. Its hands were stuffed into the pockets of the hoodie, probably holding a weapon to kill me with. I wouldn't fight back, why bother?
"Four people in one year, huh? Which one do you know?" The figure asked, voice still weighing with secrecy.
"All of them." I whispered into the empty wind.
"That's rough. Hope you're doing better," they paused, and I could feel something change in the air. What was happening?
"What if I told you two of these people weren't dead?"
YOU ARE READING
Crime Can't Love \/ Phan \/ COMPLETE
Fanfiction" For the first time I felt I saw Daniel Howell, the lonely boy who puts everything into his job so he can feel there are some people out there who will not leave him. And for the first time Dan saw me, Philip Michael Lester, the suicidal runaway wh...
