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With a deep breath, I let my eyes open to muted sunlight spilling through the curtains. It was the end of one of many nights I had dreamt of him. Memories flitted across my vision and each time I woke, the cold sheets around me were a bitter reminder that he wasn't here. I knew the bed was empty aside from me. I knew there was no warmth to remind me of the love I once had. I knew I was alone, and as usual, I had to force my eyes open, even though it made the loneliness real all over again.
Yet time went on. It was brutally clear that everyone keeps going, despite the numbness sinking into my chest. The world was still spinning, even though my life came to a screeching halt. I knew he was happier with her, I knew he was better off away from me. But that did little to solve my problems. I guess I'm selfish that way. At least, those were his departing words.
The fight had been stupid; as most fights are. I had no idea the very thing that brought us together would also be the end of us. If I had known, I never would have let things escalate. I never would have reached for the stars if I knew that crashing would hurt so bad. I would have went on with my mundane life.
They say that to have loved and lost is better than to have never have loved, but they lied. If I could take it back I would, but I can’t.
And now, here I am, picking up the remaining pieces of my shattered world.
I all but rolled out of bed, stretching upwards with a groan possibly loud enough to cause alarm with my new neighbors. Not exactly the first impression I want to give this them. I made my way out of the barren room and into the en suite for the farce of a morning routine I had tried to develop. One glance in the mirror told me I wouldn't be venturing out of the flat anytime soon.
I had dark circles under my eyes, and the lack of sunlight had me nearly as pale as Ph- him. I sighed and shook my head abruptly, my face showing displeasure at the pain that quickly overtook my being. I did my best to push it to the back burner and keep going. I glanced at the shower next to me and opted for a piss instead. After all, no one else was here to complain.
After flushing the toilet, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and walked into the room next to mine. Putting the phone on the box at my feet, I huffed and took in the empty room which held nothing but a bare desk and a bookcase. I still had a lot of unpacking to do. That thought did little to quell the heartbreak racing through my veins. With the grace of a dying giraffe, I sank to the floor, grabbed the nearest box, and ripped the tape off.
It was times like this that I wished my mind wasn't capable of multitasking. Unpacking and sorting is truly one of the most mundane tasks in the world. So of course, my mind would wander to the decision that brought me to where I am.
Being in the flat I shared with the once love of my life had proven too much to bare after the months began to blur together. So many empty spaces between things where the dust had settled in the outline of its previous occupant had shown the many times we had intertwined our lives. Every day was a constant reminder of what I once had. It was a bright sunny day when I had found myself throwing every dish I owned at the unfilled gaps with tears bleeding into the fabric of my shirt. I began searching for a new flat the next day.
So now, here I sat, in a new place, with no reminders of him anywhere in sight. The memory of him was strong enough in my soul.
As I sifted through the box, I pulled out a picture of him and I together; one of the many polaroids we took and kept to ourselves. I stood, letting the photo fall to the floor. Without paying mind to the phone, I grabbed my laptop from the floor by the door and walked to my bedroom, trying to ignore the sound of my labored breathing. I liked to pretend that the tears falling down my face were figments of my imagination, even though I could feel the scorching hot trail turning cool in its wake.
There wasn't much care in the way I slumped onto the bed, opening the laptop and logging onto tumblr. I found myself using the website more and more these days. After blacklisting his name and tag, I found it to be my only outlet now. I scrolled through aimlessly, letting my face dry in the cool morning air. The same concerns I had when I was ‘danisnotonfire’ were nonexistent on the side blog I had created for this very reason. I knew no one would know it was me.
The blogs I followed ranged from art to me to tattoos to music. It was a wide variety that rarely put me in an emotional state. But of course that could only last so long, because even after all the work I put into not getting hurt again, I saw someone had reblogged his latest video with the comment, "I really thought it was going to be dan :(", following a series of comments that told the poster not to tag me. The girlfriend tag. Of course. I unfollowed the blog as fast as I could, but my mind was already reeling at the newly obtained knowledge.
How was it possible that I was still broken and he was completely unphased? Stupid question. How could I let myself believe that he would be anything less than happy without me? That my heartbreak would match his? It was painfully obvious that whatever I thought we were wasn't what he thought. I was painfully aware that I would never be good enough to be flaunted by him. I knew I didn't matter as much as people would like to think.
I closed the laptop and let my eyes wander, giving in to what I knew what would only hurt me. Yes, I did in fact know that we never would have made it. People like me didn't get the fairytale ending. So why I let myself believe anything else is truly one of the most troubling questions in my world right now. I knew that my absence on social media would only fuel the rumors, but I didn't have it in me to move past the obstacle that would be the questions.
Some days were better than others. Some days I could tell myself that the hurt would go away, and some days, I knew better than to bother lying to myself. I knew it would never really get any better- that at best, I would get better at being able to pretend it didn't happen. I guess I just didn't understand how it all came to this.
I had only suggested that maybe it was time to let the viewers know we had come a long way together. Like, actually together. He had immediately thrown a fit, telling me that it was absurd to do that, that if we wanted to, we should have done it a long time ago. And when I had begun to talk about growth and only saying what needed to be said, he let me know just how selfish I was. When he had wanted to do it, I had lashed out at him, nearly ruining us. I knew I wasn't ready, and he knew it too. But I was ready now, and that meant nothing to him.
He was right though. I am selfish. If I wasn't, I would have let him spill in the beginning. But I hadn't, and doing it now would only serve to hurt our careers. I hadn't known he would get so angry, otherwise I would have let it go. However, being as stubborn as I am, I spat back an insult to match my own hurt feelings, and things had escalated quickly from there, resulting in him slamming the door with a, “Fuck you Dan. We're done," being hastily thrown over his shoulder. He came back the next week to get his things.
I had called so many times and left so many voicemails pleading with him to reconsider, but they all went unanswered, I had tried again and again for the following month before his number told me it had been changed or disconnected. I knew it was the former. I started retreating into myself, allowing the anguish to engulf me whole. As far as anyone else knew, I had not resurfaced.
For a while, everyone had assumed I was having another crisis, but when I stayed away, they had soon grown to think I had died or quit. I guess in a way, I did quit, and a part of me had died. I hadn't made a video since, and I had no intention of doing so anytime soon. I had enough money put away to not work for a couple of years, and when the time came, I would either start back with YouTube or get a new job. Nothing was certain anymore. If I was being completely honest, there wasn't even certainty in my life continuing for that long anyway. I wasn't sure how long I could keep going like this. I wasn't sure of anything anymore.
A glance at the clock told me hours had passed since I had come back in here. Shaking out my unkempt hair, I slumped out of the bed again and stumbled to a box on the far side of the room, reaching in and grabbing a white shirt I knew to be ridiculously oversized. I let my sweats drop down my legs, noting that the fabric had grown quite loose on my frame within the past months. I began walking to the bathroom again, without much reason to be honest; I hadn't put much into my body for it to feel the need to release anything back.
I pulled my shirt over my head, clipping my shoulder on the doorframe. As I came to a stop in front of the sink, I slipped the new shirt over my head. I gazed in the mirror, taking in the reflection I saw.
I was pale, and much thinner than I had been before. The shirt I knew to fit nicely, despite its length, was quite literally hanging off my shoulders. Whatever. What did it matter at this point?
I turned back to the room and walked to the bed, flopping onto it. I just wanted a peace of mind that could only be granted to me by sleep.
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Two months in the new place had seen me ignoring almost everything that needed doing. I was in no hurry. I had no friends and my family had probably given up on reaching me. On second thought, perhaps I should have let them know I was moving. Or at least made sure I payed my phone bill. As it stood, neither happened, so here I sat, in the middle of the lounge, in boxers and shirt. Alone.
To be fair, it was my fault I was alone, but the position I was in was not for for any human eyes to observe. I shook my head at the thought, feeling the tips of my hair brush across my shoulders. If I really put some effort into it, I could probably come up with a reason to get a haircut. But none of those reasons actually mattered to me.
I laid back on the carpet, letting darkness pull me into a sleep I desperately sought out- and found- with the help of allergy medicine I ordered from Tesco. Finally. Peace.
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After nearly a year of no videos, I deleted my channels. Both of them. I had gone through the gaming channel and removed every video that had me in it, leaving his alone on the channel. I took my name off of it, and then promptly deactivated every social media account I had.
I created a single new account on tumblr. I needed that anonymous outlet. I had again followed my own tag, and the rumors about my sudden complete deactivation were running wild. The most common being that I had actually died.
I could only wish for such a relief.
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Another two weeks had passed. Time seemed to speed up, yet it was still moving too slowly. I looked across the lounge at my landlord, who had taken an interest in me.
Benjamin sat comfortably on a couch, which he provided when he saw how bare the place was.. He was tall, taller than me but just barely, with a beard and bright green eyes. But those eyes told me he felt sorry for me. He pitied me.
"You've lost more weight," Benjamin said softly. I nodded in response, not really paying much attention to his words. I tucked my legs under me in the old recliner, my hair falling in messy waves over my eyes. My shirt was barely clinging to my shoulders, and even though I had spent four days wearing it, I couldn't bring myself to change it. There was no one here to impress anyway.
"Have you been eating, Daniel?" Benjamin asked. I shrugged, my voice having left me days ago.
"What about water?" He pressed on. I shrugged again. I watched as he stood, going into the dusty, unused kitchen. He rummaged for a bit, finding paper cups in the cabinet. Benjamin filled one and brought it to me.
I took the cup and set it on the floor at my feet. Why bother?
"Are you even trying to get better, Dan?" he questioned. I had no words to offer him. Truth be told, I wasn't trying. I was done trying. The one time I tried blew up in my face, leaving absolute destruction in its wake. I would not be doing that again.
"Dan, I'm worried about you. You can't keep doing this," Ben said worriedly. I could only shrug again. I had nothing to say. He shook his head before standing. Ben pat my head and quietly left. I was alone again.
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Phil POV
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What the hell had he done?! I scanned over the gaming channel again, but nothing changed, it barely held five videos. Could he really be this childish? Of course Dan could. I went over to twitter to DM him as every text I sent went unanswered. Apparently he had changed his number.
After searching for what felt like hours, I realized he had deactivated his account. I went to his Facebook- also gone. I scrambled to his Tumblr, yet that too was gone. Dan wouldn't have deleted his own channels right? Upon searching for them, I found that he had, in fact, deleted them. What was happening? Dan, what did you do?
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Dan POV
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"Perhaps you should call your parents, Dan?" Benjamin asked in a soft tone. He was always so delicate with me. You can't break what’s already broken, I thought.
"What about a friend?" he continued. I shook my head at that. I had no friends. Before he could say anything else, I stood on weak legs and wobbly ankles and made my way to my room. As I laid down on the bed, I heard the door close. Good. I was tired.
The room didn't have much in it. Bare walls and a bed against one side, with a nightstand and my amber lamp on it. I hadn't bothered to unpack much else. The room was like me. Empty. A sad reminder of what could be and what could have been.
I decided to evade sleep, going on my laptop instead. I scrolled on Tumblr, once again seeing posts about my untimely death, anime, and occasionally Phil. What caught my eye though, was a long text post in regards to my missing media and Phil's lack of response to it all. They had come to the conclusion that Phil had been forced to move on after my death, as that could be the only explanation for friends as close as us drifting apart. If only they knew the real story.
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Phil’s POV
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I had had it up to here with Dan’s childish games. We broke up. There was no reason to take away the things that pay both of our bills. I couldn’t help that we split on such harsh terms, but enough was enough! I was so tired of doing things on his time; I had years of experience while he was still practically a baby! If I was being honest, I had fallen out of love with him years ago; coming out to the viewers would have locked me in even more than I already was. So maybe I could have brought this up to him sooner, but he was so... whiny.Maybe I had grown to resent him. I don't know. I chose not to dwell on a past I was in no way proud of.
But putting both of our careers on the line to get attention was just childish. And I was done being the bigger person. I’d go to the flat, and I'd confront the child myself.
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Dan’s Mom
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I scanned the screen in front of me again. Still nothing. Everything we used to keep track of Dan kept coming up empty. There was nothing. Nothing could be found. He couldn't be found. Where had he gone?
We had decided last week if we couldn't find anything we were going to go to the apartment. Enough was enough. I needed to find my son.
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Phil’s POV
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The morning had come. Today was the day I was going to confront Dan. I had kissed my girlfriend goodbye and left our flat. The familiar journey to the flat we had once shared was pulling up old memories I didn't really want to focus on. I had moved on, and I could only hope he had, too.
If there was one good thing about moving, it was the lack of stairs at the new flat. As I approached the old place, I was more than a little surprised to see Dan’s parents waiting near the door to the complex.
"Oh, Phil! We've been calling both of you! Did your number change? Mr. Howell asked. Had he not told them we had parted ways?
“Oh, yeah, it did. I figured it was time," I responded awkwardly.
"Well, aren't you going in?" Mrs. Howell inquired. I chose to act instead of answering.
Both pairs of eyes were on me as I knocked.
"Locked out again?" Mr. Howell chuckled. I wasn't given the chance to answer as the door opened, and a short woman with long blonde hair pulled on top of her head was a sight I never thought I'd see.
"Hello, can I help you?" she asked, her voice like silver tinkling into the air.
"Uh…”
"Dan Howell lives here and we need to see him, we need to see our son," Dan's mom said quickly, stepping into the flat. We all followed with the girl looking appalled and slightly afraid.
"Ma’am, I'm sorry but no one else lives here," she said as she scurried in behind us. It was a shock, seeing all of the old familiar furnishings gone and replaced by rose gold everywhere. She was right. Dan wasn't here anymore.
"I hope you find your son, but I must ask you to leave, please."
They looked at me, questions etched on their faces, burning to be answered. We all walked out, confused and, in my case, nervous.
"You don't know where he lives anymore, do you?" Mrs. Howell asked.
"No. We broke up last year, and I moved away right after," I whispered. It was a shock to feel his father grab my shirt, slamming me into the wall of the apartment building behind us.
"Well, what do you know, boy?! Come on! Answers!" he said, his face mere centimeters from mine.
"I don't know, he dropped off the face of the planet! I need to know why he's jeopardizing our careers over this!" I yelled back, pushing his hands away from me.
"Of course you’re more concerned about the money, Philip. I warned Dan about you!" Mrs. Howell spat angrily in my direction.
"I cared until he didn't!" I yelled back. "He gave up on us all those years ago and I still stayed for him. Even when I didn't want to. Even when I hated him! I should have left years ago, yes. I know that. But I made a mistake."
"Your mistake was ever being interested in him at all!" She snapped.
"Look, I have no idea where he's gone, but I’ll help you find him," I offered, but I was quickly cut off.
"No!" they both yelled. "Just do what you do best; run away Phil. Run. Away," his dad finished angrily.
I rolled my eyes and left. They could find him on their own for all I care. I hoped he choked.
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Dan’s POV
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Another mundane day, in which I wished my life would just go away. My heart hurt. It was like a physical ache. And I was scared, scared that it wouldn’t go away, that after all this, I would still be the pathetic loser I was at the start. And who was I kidding? I knew the truth. In the long run, I was alone. No amount of visits from my landlord would change that.
I took in a shallow breath, my lungs not being capable of much else. Dragging my legs out of bed proved to be getting harder by the day; perhaps that was because of how thin my legs had gotten... funny; when I wasn’t trying to lose weight, I lost tons of it. Go figure.
Upon stumbling into the bathroom; I nearly gasped at my appearance. My hair, once short and well-kept, was long and disheveled, reaching past my shoulders in wild waves and tangling together. If someone looked close enough at my face, they could see old tear tracks running down my hollow cheeks. I looked down, leaving the bathroom; I didn't want to see myself anymore.
I looked at my laptop on the old recliner and debated opening tumblr. On the one hand, I was painfully bored. On the other, I was avoiding the internet like... like... him. He was inescapable. And it was growing too difficult to keep hiding as he was literally everywhere I turned. Suddenly the idea of me dying seemed more appealing than ever. If only my heart would just stop. Knowing me, I'd fail at even suicide. So why bother?
The worst part of it was admitting to myself that I knew. I knew the whole time, that I wasn't good enough. I wasn’t deserving enough of anything, let alone the sunshine that he is. I'd have ruined him eventually. I guess him leaving me was best. After all, it was inevitable.
I put a hand on my chest; something I found myself doing more and more as the days turned to weeks, as the weeks turned to months. My heartbeat was a light flutter. Barely there. Frightening at times, welcome at others. I’d done the worst thing you can do medically; I googled it. According to WebMD it was a palpitation and I should probably see a doctor. I didn’t even matter to myself though, because I just pretended it didn't matter.. I needed to sleep. And not wake up. With that thought, it was bedtime.
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Benjamin’s POv (landlord)
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With a wave and polite smile I sent the new tenants on their way. What was the time? I glanced at my watch, taking in the time with surprise. How had four hours passed by, unnoticed? I grabbed my master key and ran into the hallway. I needed to check on the boy. He was unwell, and not getting any better.
In an attempt to be polite, I knocked on his door; and as usual; there was no answer. I put the key in the door and turned the lock, feeling wary as the door opened. It was eerily quiet. Normally I could hear him crying at least; but now I heard nothing.
I took a tentative step inside.
"Dan! I'm here.. If you're not decent, now would be a great time to get ready!" I called out, smiling lightly. Any minute he would come ghosting out of his room, sit in the old recliner and glare at me for yelling. It seemed like a tradition now. Except he wasn't coming.
"Dan!" I tried again. Could he have actually left the building? I hoped so; it was exactly what he needed. To confirm my suspension I walked down the hall to his room and peeked inside. I guess I spoke too soon.
"Oh, come on, Dan! You can't possibly think I would believe you slept through that!" I chuckled at him, but I was still met with silence.
"What are you playing at, Dan? You know I don't believe you're asleep. Come on old man, I’m getting you out today." I said, walking up to him and nudging his leg. Still nothing.
"Dan?" I said softly. I scanned the room, looking for anything that might have been suicidal. And there wasn't anything.
"Dan! Enough of this game- it's cruel; get up, get dressed and let's go" I said firmly. I looked for any sign of him giving in. His face was blank. Like he wasn't even here. Like he was sleeping.
"Dan." I said. I looked at his chest for his breathing; and it was still.
"Dan, come on now, you can't do this!" I said nervously. I touched his neck for a pulse and felt nothing but slightly cool skin.
"Fuck. Dan! Come on!" I said, climbing on top of him. I pulled my phone and dialed 999.
"My friend! I think he's dead!" I said it urgently, as soon as I heard a voice on the other end. I put the phone on speaker and let it fall to the floor as I began chest compressions.
"Come on, Dan! You have your whole life ahead of you! Don't give up yet!" I yelled to him, pushing hard on his chest.
"Sir, we need your location.” the woman said. I gave it to her hurriedly before breathing into his mouth.
"Come in, Dan. Don't do this" I told him, even though I knew he wouldn't hear me. He couldn't die.
"Come on" I said once more, breathing into his mouth again. It wasn't too soon after that I heard the door slam open. I moved out of the way to allow the workers to get to him.
They shocked him. Gave him epinephrine. Shocked him again. More epinephrine. Shocked again. A cycle that seemed to have no end. Until it did.
"I'm sorry sir, we've done all we can; but his body temperature is too low; he's been gone for hours.” And just like that, the world shifted.
"Would you like to contact his family?" The EMT asked softly.
"I would, but he never gave me any information on them.”
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Dan’s Mom’s POV
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I was startled out of my thoughts by the loud shrill ringing of my telephone. My husband and I had been combing through the internet trying to find some way to find Dan, all to no avail.
The phone rang again. With a deep sigh I picked the phone up from my desk and pressed it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Hello, my name is Jennifer from St Thomas. Am I speaking with Ellen Howell?” a soft voice answered.
“Yes, this is she,” I spoke carefully. Who on earth could be in hospital?
“Hello, Mrs.Howell. I’m calling on behalf of Daniel Howell-”
“Daniel? Is he okay? Is he hurt?” A thousand questions ran through my head, but they were all overpowered by three words: he’d been found.
“...and I’m afraid it’s quite urgent, ma’am,” I was vaguely aware of this woman talking again, and realized I’d missed the first half of her sentence.
“I’m sorry, what? Can you repeat that?”
There was a seemingly long pause before she spoke again. “Something has happened, Mrs. Howell. You need to get to St. Thomas. As soon as possible. All your questions can be answered then.”
I was completely numb. Over a year since I’d seen my son, and now some stranger was telling me he was hurt. “Okay, thank you,” I said, hanging up the phone. For a moment, I just stood there. There was only one reason why hospitals called- someone was dead or dying. There was a part of me that wasn’t surprised at this outcome; he’d been missing from our lives for so long now. It felt like there was a part of me that had been waiting for a call like that. It was almost...relieving because at least now I knew where he was.
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The relief I felt at home was slowly swallowed by the grief that grew every moment we grew closer to St. Thomas. Ken stared straight ahead, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white. I wanted to take one of his hands and try to give us both some comfort, but I was too numb to move.
After nearly ten minutes of silence, he spoke for the first time since I’d shared the news. “This is his fault.” I didn’t have to ask to know who he meant.
“It doesn’t matter who’s at fault right now. Let’s just get to Daniel,” I said softly. I didn’t want to think too much about what could be happening. I didn't want to think about the worst case scenario. Ken was quiet the rest of the way.
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I was still numb as we walked into the building. I nearly didn’t hear Ken speaking to someone, telling them who we were, or the woman in admitting telling us to head to a room further away from the waiting room. I clenched Ken’s hand tightly as he led the way.
We sat waiting, alone in the room. It felt like each tick of the second hand was a year long. I was unable to judge how long we had sat in those chairs but it felt like an eternity. Until suddenly, the door opened. We both jumped in surprise and I squeezed Ken's hand even tighter. This time, he squeezed back.
“Hello, I’m Doctor Hampton. I believe you are the parents of Daniel Howell?” he asked softly. My heart was still.
“We are, what’s happened to my son?” Ken answered. His voice didn’t waver. He sounded much stronger than he felt, I was sure. The doctor herded us towards the chairs once more, and motioned for us to sit.
“Daniel was admitted an hour ago. It was clear he was incredibly malnourished. According to the man who called in for help with him, Daniel had been very reluctant to eat or drink, leading us to believe he was also very dehydrated,” he started. We hung on his every word with bated breath.
“When Daniel was admitted,” he continued, “He had been dead for about three hours. There was nothing we could do. I am so sorry” he finished.
The blood in my veins had gone cold at his words. This couldn’t be true.
“Dead? He’s young! And strong! How could he be dead?” I questioned. This had to be a joke.
“From our initial examination, his body had been deteriorating for a long time. His bones were brittle. His hair was thin and lifeless. His nails broke at the slightest tap. His heart just stopped working,” he told me. “He fought for a long time, Mrs. Howell”
I had so many questions, but my throat had closed. The truth settled in. My entire body was numb, yet unbelievably cold too. My baby boy had just… wasted away.
Suddenly my sight was obscured and I felt Ken's arms wrap around my waist, holding me tightly. Our bodies shook as we cried together. My baby.
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Phil’s POV
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I smiled to myself as I read over the comments of the latest video. Turns out, people love board games! I chuckled one last time before going to the trending page to see if my video had been popular enough to end up there.
Instead, I was confronted with a video of Dan’s face and a tombstone at the top of the page. He hadn’t been active in over a year. How could he have a trending video? And at number one, too?
I clicked on it out of sheer confusion and curiosity. It was not from his channel, but from a news channel that had recently blown up. The video had almost 16 million views. What was going on?
“Today on YouTube Catch Up- we are faced with terrible news,” a young man with blond hair said solemnly. “Without wasting time, I will start by saying this video will not cover other youtubers as we normally do, but will be solely about Daniel Howell, formerly known as danisnotonfire,” I sat back, wondering just where this was going.
“In the recent months, we have all wondered just where Dan had gone. After over a year of complete silence, we finally have answers.” The boy suddenly bit his lip and looked down before going on.
“Last night, we learned that Daniel Howell died one week ago.” He paused again. What? “His cause of death has not been released by his parents. At this time we wish his family and friends our most sincere condolences and well wishes.” The reporter opened his mouth to speak once more but I clicked out of the video.
What had happened? He couldn’t be dead. No. He couldn’t die. How had I let this happen? What did I do? I was being dragged down by a black wave of remorse and pain. Did I do this? I could hear someone screaming. I could see my girlfriend shaking me, but I was sinking beneath the guilt and hurt. I killed my best friend. I sank deeper and deeper until I could no longer see the woman in front of me.
What had I done?
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END