Chapter Two: Flooded Flats
Tears still rolling reluctantly from his face, Phil struggled to his feet and stepped to the table. He knew it would be useless, but he had to try. Miserable and soaked, he snatched up the cork and waded to the freely pouring faucet. Dan will be so mad, he thought to himself. What was he kidding. Dan was already mad.
"Stupid, clumsy, idiot!" Phil yelled, jamming the cork into the faucet. It worked, for thirty seconds. The sink couldn't take the pressure and instead decided to explode, the faucet coming fully off and hitting Phil in the side of the head. He fell hard onto the floor below and sloshed around, clutching at his head in agony. There was no hope left. Water exploded from the sink at gallons per second, sounding more like a waterfall now than a stream.
"NO!" Phil screamed, desperately trying to get up. The water hammered him down as he fought against the torrent, he had to get to the sink, he had to... what? Stop it? How on earth would he stop it? He was an idiot. The flat would be feet deep withing the next ten minutes, or less. Feebly, he rolled from beneath the fall, drenched, and stood to shakily make his way to his room.
The water had beaten him to it. It was only a few inches deep, allowing Phil to maneuver easily. Biting his lip, he grabbed a suitcase, open on his bed from the recent trip to Japan, and began to throw clothes and other items in it. The last thing he grabbed was his lion stuffed animal, placing it carefully in an outer pocket before heaving the luggage up and running (or sloshing) to Dan's room. He did the same thing for Dan, putting in clothes, socks, and... he turned pink. Boxer briefs. With a small squeak, he tossed them into the suitcase and ran to the bathroom to grab necessities.
The water was a foot deep everywhere he looked. More tears pooled in his eyes as he took in the flat. Their TV, Xbox, couch, all sat in water. His room was a nightmare, he couldn't bring himself to look. All their memories were slowly being washed away. Heavy hearted, Phil grabbed toothbrushes and hairbrushes, threw them in a bag, then headed to the living room. How Do I get out? The thought brought him up short. He couldn't open up the door, he had to keep the flood contained. The window? It was his only other option. Phil would have to jump out of the window.
