killer»phan

#04

phil.

i always wondered if i was alone. if there was someone like me.

i remember in seventh grade, i would make friends with people just to ask them if they ever felt like killing, like ending a life.

mostly all of them said no and stopped talking to me immediately afterwards, like if they did they'd catch a disease.

but there was one person. ryan, he was the only person who knew how it felt.

he knew what i meant when i said that when i see blood, my mind goes blank and all i see is a flash of red. and all i want, all i need, is to kill.

he understood what it's like to feel nothing at all, unless you're killing innocent animals.

he knew that when you finished with that squirrel or the neighbors pet, you are left wanting more.

he was my only friend, if you could call him that, all throughout the rest of middle school and the beginning of high school.

then one brisk winter morning, i discovered that my dear friend was arrested for the murder and robbery of tana reagan.

i got to visit him only once when he was in prison, it was a decent conversation, as decent as it could be at least.

he told me he didn't mean to. but it was the flash of red we both knew to well.

"when i see that flash, i lose control. it's as if someone, something else is in charge of my body. and i'm just a bystander. a witness."

i nodded and understood. the court obviously thought his reasoning was a load of bullshit. but they don't know what it's like. it overpowers you. and you're helpless. but you also enjoy it.

i left the prison feeling better now that i knew why ryan did what he did.

the feeling didn't last long, ryan was killed three days later.

i've waited plenty of times.

waited for my dad to finally pass out drunk so i could sleep instead of being yelled at until 1:00 in the morning for being a useless fucktard.

waited for mom to wake up from her drug overdose, which she never did.

waited for the only time i could shine, the only time i could show off what i could do, when i was killing.

the point is, i've waited for better and worse things than a phone call.

but why does this feel different? like i've waited for years when it's only been a few hours.

i checked my phone for the hundredth time this hour and sighed, exasperated, when there was no recent calls from dan. one from dad, but i'll wait till he gets home to hit me a few times.

i set it back on my bed and stared at the ceiling.

then, my prayers were answered. the familiar ringtone burst through the thick silence.

"hello?" i answered to eagerly, what's gotten into me?

"hey, come over?" i heard dan's familiar voice that reminded me of soft velvet and smiled.

a fake one, of course. i thought, as if trying to convince myself it was.

when i arrived at dans house i walked right in, forgetting to knock. it was a small but pretty home. bright pillows on the couch and pictures of dan with his family littered the walls and tabletops.

it was a loving home.

if only i knew what it was like to have one of those.

"phil? is that you?" the brunette called out as he heard me knock over one of the many picture frames.

"yeah, be right there." he said okay and i picked up the knocked down picture.

it was of dan when he was seven. he looked happy, an actual smile plastered across his ice cream covered mouth. his brown hair that was usually straight was framing his face with loose curls. and he was wearing a short sleeve, no scars on his arms that he needed to cover.

if only he was still like this. then i would have thought he was a normal kid, nothing would stick out to me and he most likely wouldn't be on my list.

but alas, there's no need to change a perfect situation.

"hurry the fuck up phil! i have buffy on!" he called, i ran upstairs, wondering how he remembered me telling him buffy was one of my favorite shows. that was at least a week ago, and i can hardly remember what i had for breakfast this morning.

a sick smile formed across my face when i saw dan on the bed, laying, waiting. like he was already on my table.

except he doesn't have fear in eyes like the others.

but he will soon.

i sat down and forced my attention at the tv in front of us, but the smile never left my face.

dan mistook it for something friendly, perfect.

step three: form a sort of friendship.