Amnesia || phan

Little by little, fragments of memories slowly came back to Dan; and slowly, he knew he'd unravel the truth. He didn't know what had happened, why and how it happened to him. He had no one with him, and he wanted nothing more than to just stay away and be illiterate and ignorant from the truth.

The memories soon became a puzzle piece; slowly portraying a deep, dark, sad but inevitable truth. It was too harsh for Dan to take it.

Too, too harsh.

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3. Chapter 3

My jaw dropped, staring at the man in front of me.

He gave me a small smile, with pity in her eyes, "Hi Dan, it's been forever."
"You-"
He stepped closer, allowing me to smell his intoxicating cologne. "How're you?"
I dodged his question, "Who are you?"
His smile faltered, "Oh, I heard. You don't remember anything, right?"
His question left me feeling guilty, "Uh, yes, I guess."
"I guess this is my chance to reintroduce myself, then."
He took out his hand for me to shake, "Phil Lester, best friend of Dan Howell for a few years."

Phil Lester.

Best friend?

Debating whether or not to let him in, I just decided to make way for him to enter. What could go wrong?

He slid both of his hands into his side pockets, stepping in and sat on the couch, looks like he naturally knew where to go.
I sat beside him on the couch, still wondering whether or not this was a good idea. But I could get answers, I thought. He has been haunting my dreams and I want to know why.

"So, um, I guess you mean a lot to, uh- Dan, then? I mean Dan like-"
"I really hope so," He replied, rather snappy.

Dan you shit.

But then it hit me, "If you were my best friend, why only now I see you after the accident?"
He left my glance and stared  at his hands, "I don't think you'd want to know,"
He looked sad.
I felt the urge to just slap myself silly, feeling stupid for probably asking him triggering questions.

There was an awkward silence before he spoke up, "So, you kept the flat clean after I moved out,"
I widened my eyes, "I stayed with you?"
This time he just stared into my eyes.

His baby blue eyes, anyone could drown.

"I did, Dan."
"Oh."

"There are some things I might not remember, and apparently you're the only one I know that has something to do with my, um, past."
I continued, "If it's no big deal, could you tell me what actually happened? From the very beginning."
He settled himself on the couch quite comfortably, before speaking up, "Well that's going to take a long time."

>

My hand gripped on the couch handle, couldn't take it all in. I was at the verge of tearing up, listening to the words that are coming out of Phil's mouth.

"You were drunk,"
He continued,
"It was the worst choice,"
He kept on going,
"You were driving to see me,"

According to Phil, I made a huge mistake, gotten myself drunk, and wanted to go see Phil, late at night. 
"What did I do?" I stared into his eyes,
and that's when he started to tear up, "You have to find that out Dan, I can't tell you."
I wanted to scream at him, he can't tell me?  I almost died, driving to see him, because of a mistake I didn't know I made, and he won't tell me what the hell it was?

This man is nuts.

"I have to go now, Dan. It was an interesting reunion."
As much as I wanted to be mad at him for being secretive, why did I have this feeling to not let him go?
Instinctively, I grabbed onto his hand, "Do you?"
Automatically a quarter of a second after I said that, I swore at myself figuratively.
"I'm sorry Dan, I really, really, have to. I'll drop by sometimes."

I walked him out, as I watched him. What was this feeling?

After he left, I made myself comfortable on my bed, yet again, as I questioned many things.

Who was Phil to me, before this?
If he was my best friend, why only now I met him?
If he was my flatmate, why did he move out?
Why did I drive that night to see him?
What the hell did I do?

>

It was late at night, probably around 2AM. I found myself crying, as I took my car keys and went out.
I started the car, and started reversing out of the parking.

I'm sorry Phil.
It's all my fault.
Why the hell did I do that?
This is a mistake, Phil.

I revved up the engine, I really wanted to see him.
Tell him it's all fine.

>

I woke up at the middle of the night, sweating through my adrenaline.
What the hell was that?

Piecing it all together, I assumed it was the night the accident happened.

But then, that's weird.

My view was clear as ever.
I was thinking straight.
I wasn't intoxicated.

I wasn't under the influence of alcohol.
Alcohol didn't make me almost die.

That didn't match up.

That's not right,
something's fishy.

 
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