the broken

Chapter 37

JUNE, 2009

Phil

The snow started two days ago. Despite the spring season, the air had blown in cold last week, and two days ago, the snow fell, white and heavy and swirling.

I've always loved snow, but now, it's too heavy, too quiet, too much.

The insufferable quiet makes it all the worse.

I can hear the snowflakes hitting the window.

I have a headache.

It's about midday right now, and the quiet of the walls around me is about to drive me insane. I drag myself up into a sitting position and lean my head against the wall, eyes fluttering shut tiredly, before pushing myself off my bed, forcing my feet to take one step after the other until I'm out of my room and into the bathroom. Dan was gone, hence why I'd ventured outside of my room. I wasn't brave enough to leave when he was here, wasn't brave enough to see his face. For almost an entire week, he'd knock on my door off and on for hours, pleading for me to talk to him, but I couldn't bare to hear him tell me how little I meant to him, wasn't strong enough to hear his excuses. So instead, I sat behind closed doors, holding all the pieces of my heart, letting my mind race to all the worst places.

I'm tired of crying.

I splash water onto my face and shuffle back out of the bathroom, wiping the cold rivulets of water running down my skin on my sleeve as I make my way to the kitchen. As I fix myself something to eat, I spot a piece of paper on the table. It wasn't there yesterday when I'd wandered out of my room, and although my brain knew who it was from, knew I shouldn't let myself read it, my heart tugged me over to the table, reached my hands out, picked it up.

Phil-

I don't know if I can do this.

I read on anyways.

I don't know if you'll read this, or if you'll throw it away, or if you'll care, but you won't talk to me, and I needed to tell you somehow. I thought this would be my best bet. I don't think I should stay here anymore. All it does is hurt you, and that's not fair for you. I'm going back to Gabe's, probably sometime this week, as soon as I can get my stuff in order. I'm so sorry.

-Dan

I tangle my hands in my hair, sighing, stressed. As mad as I am at him, I can't let him go back there.

And I sigh as I realize what that means.

I'm going to have to talk to Pj, get him to convince Dan to stay with him instead, or anywhere else. Just not that house.

I trudge back up to my room, headache brewing in the back of my head, wading through my messy room in search of the phone that I'd chucked at the wall weeks earlier. When I find it, I plug it in and wait until it powers back up, knowing that I've probably missed quite a few texts. Making my way to sit on my bed, I turn it back on. Sure enough:

12 missed texts from: Pj

17 missed calls from: Pj

2 missed calls from: Dan

With an unenthusiastic sigh, I open up the texts from Pj.

sent 11:20: phil it wasn't what it looked like, i swear

sent 11:21: i promise it was an accident

sent 11:25: phil, come on, answer me.

sent 11:55: phil, jesus, you gotta listen to me, it wasn't what you think it was

I roll my eyes.