I Swear I’m Not Crazy (Part 1)
A/N: I really liked writing this; it was fun to develop! Thanks to Cathy for the prompt! It’s kind of short, but Part 2 will be longer!
Prompt: Phil is a ghost and Dan is the only one that can see him
Every night I wake up sweating and panting from the nightmares. That night was awful, the night that Phil died. It’s been six months since his passing. It’s been six months of hell. I can’t sleep at night, and when I do I have horrible nightmares. I can’t think straight. My life has come crashing to a halt and yet the world still spins on. My doctor recommended I see a therapist. He thinks I’m crazy.
I got a phone call around 2 in the morning. Apparently Phil had gone mad. He took the car keys and had left our apartment, blinded by the thoughts racing through his mind. He swerved into oncoming traffic and hit another car head-on. He killed himself and two other people.
I wish he had told me he suffered from depression. I could’ve helped him. I would have helped him. I still get angry at him for leaving me.
Only a few months before he died, we admitted our love for each other. We were happy. At least, I thought we were. We’d make videos together and hell, he was even catching up on subscribers. It was the time of our lives. Or so I thought.
Phil visits me regularly. He looks happy now. I keep asking him why, why he left me. Why he left us. His life. His family. Everything. All he does is smile at me, telling me everything’s all right now. The first time I saw him, he did apologize for leaving. But he still has yet to tell me why. Why, Phil?
I’ve visited my therapist once a week, sometimes twice, ever since Phil committed suicide. Phil is there with me. Even though I can’t feel it, I see his hand resting on mine, as if to show affection. I point him out to my therapist, but all he does is show me a worried look and scribbles stuff down on his clipboard.
Days that Phil doesn’t visit, I feel empty. A piece of me is missing. Him being next to me makes me forget that he ever left. I’ll talk to him when I go places, like the radio station, Starbucks, or even my parent’s house. People give me looks. They all think I’m crazy. I swear, I swear to you I’m not. He never left me. He won’t.
My therapist told my doctor about Phil showing up at our sessions. I guess my doctor told her there was no point in trying to help me any more. They want to put me in a mad house. They want to put me with the crazy people. Schizophrenia, they say. I don’t have schizophrenia. They just don’t see him. I do. They don’t deserve to see him. I do. That’s why Phil is always around. He’s here for me.
I’m making videos less. My spark left. It left with Phil. He’s showing up daily now, but my videos aren’t the same. I get daily tweets and asks on tumblr telling me so. Even my number of subscribers has gone down. And I agree. I’m not the same. But I’m not crazy. I’m not.
Phil even lies in bed with me at night. He faces me and smiles at me, telling me everything will be all right. I believe him, I do. He’s all I have left. Everyone else has ostracized me. I don’t need them, anyways.
I need Phil.
I swear I’m not crazy.
I swear I’m not.
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