"I’ve told you already, I didn’t kill him!" Phil howled through his tears, banging his fist on the cold metal table. Of course he didn’t kill him. He was Phil’s best friend. His very best friend. Why on Earth would he kill his best friend? Phil couldn’t understand, why would he kill anyone? Phil couldn’t even hurt a mouse, never mind his best friend. His late friend went by the name: Daniel Howell.
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It was pouring with rain when Phil finally reached his best friend’s door, banging three times on the door with his right hand as he tried to pull his jacket over his head with his left