Searching for Purpose (Twenty One Pilots)

30. Nothing

**I know I've said this but please read this story with caution**

The next few weeks saw little of Tyler, save for the times he had to leave for class. He woke up late and went to bed early, under eating and over sleeping to the point where he looked like how he felt: a ghost. He hardly spoke, and when he did, his throat was always dry and he sounded as if he was on the edge of tears. Speech was the hardest class for him. The social anxiety mixed with the dozens of pairs of eyes made for the perfect cocktail of crippling embarrassment and sweaty palms.

He still didn’t know anything. The ever present sadness and dark thoughts and screaming voices in his head had no reason to be there. Tyler had been brought up in a happy family on a happy street in a happy neighborhood. He had fantastically nice friends and the most amazing opportunities as a kid. Sure, he felt a little pressured by the “competition” presented by the kids at his school, and even in his own home, but everything was fine. It was great. The depression that plagued his mind had no reason to be there, or so Tyler thought.

You don’t deserve to be this sad, his mind would chant. You’re fine. Others have it worse.

Tyler would sigh and fight against the pain in his chest at those thoughts. It was too much for him to handle on his own. It was too much to think about when he was by himself. It was too much to talk to anybody about. It was all too much too much too much too much.

It was times like these, when Tyler was sitting alone in his room, covered in darkness and dry tears, that all Tyler wanted was for Josh to walk through his door and tell him that everything was going to be okay. To tell him that he’s not okay now, but that he will be. That he will be right next to Tyler until he can walk alone without shaking. To tell him that he doesn’t hate him and to tell him he cares so much. Tyler just wanted his friend back.

Little did he know that that was what Josh wanted, too.

It had been over a month since the two said anything together. Each passing day where Tyler locked himself away, cutting off all communication with the ones he knew, hurt Josh more and more. He missed Tyler’s smile and the way he would laugh at all the lame jokes that Josh told. He missed the way they would just leave and do something whenever they felt like it. He missed talk to Tyler, whether it be about something deep and poetic, or something as simple as their favorite Yoshi color.

All Josh wanted to do was go up to Tyler and tell him that he didn’t hate him. He wanted to tell him that he cared so much. To tell him that he’s still right by his side and that he’ll stick with him until Tyler can walk alone. To tell him that it’s going to be okay eventually. To give him a hug.

Josh just didn’t know how to do any of that without hurting his friend. The only thing he could think of to do was sneak in and leave snacks on Tyler’s desk whenever he could just so that Tyler didn’t accidentally starve himself to death. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could do.

“Hey, man,” Michael said to Josh as he joined him on the couch in the living room. “You okay?”

Josh shook his previous thoughts from his head and looked up. Slowly, he shook he head.

“I’m sorry. Maybe you should try talking to him?” Michael suggested. Josh grimaced. “I know you’re scared to, but my brother went through stuff like this. I went through stuff like this. And the one thing I learned was that you can’t be scared to go and ask them if the need help, because chances are they’re scared enough for everyone. You have to be the brave one, even if it’s terrifying.”

Josh looked up at Michael with big, sad, empty eyes. He knew Michael was right, but he still couldn’t bring himself to do anything. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Tyler more.

Just as Josh was about to reply to Michael, a new shadow fell on the ground near the doorway.

“Tyler?” Josh whispered. The sudden appearance of his best friend in the lounge was a surprise to Josh and everyone else in the room. Conversations stopped and heads turned.

Tyler offered a weak small and a small wave in return.

Happy, yet confused, Josh smiled back and motioned for Tyler to join him on the couch. Previous conversations continued, but they were hushed and hurried, as if they were scared that loud voices would drive Tyler away. Not everyone knew what was going on with Tyler, but they knew enough to be careful.

“H-how are you?” Josh asked hesitantly.

Tyler slowly nodded his head. “Alright.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

The two fell into a slightly awkward, slightly comfortable silence. The unspoken words and still unaccepted feelings hung in the air, making it hard to breathe. Hands twitched at sides, itching to wrap around the other in a hug and thoughts screamed in minds, telling them no, not just yet. It was close to torture for the two of them.

Eventually a conversation began to flow between Tyler and Josh. It was only surface topics, such as how classes were going and the latest video games, but it was more than they had talked in weeks. It felt nice. It felt comfortable. It felt right.

They talked into the night, never going into a deeper topics but not really caring. Tyler was just happy that Josh didn’t hate him, and never really had, and Josh was beyond proud that Tyler had the motivation to leave his room and be social. It was a little out of character for Tyler, and Josh was still confused about it all, but he just figured that Tyler finally found what he was looking for and accepted the fact that he wasn’t okay and was trying to get better.

Two hours later, Tyler sat down on his bed. The only light in his room came from his desk lamp and the small sliver of light that seeped in from under his door. The quite sound of Ryan playing his guitar next door filled the room with a light, happy melody. Tyler smiled.

In his left hand, Tyler held a folded piece of paper filled with scratched out lines and shaky handwriting. In his right he held a small plastic bottle. Both hands were shaking.

The smile that graced his lips faded, replaced with a slight frown. He didn’t feel happy, yet he wasn’t sad. He was in a weird in-between state. He felt neutral to everything around him. Nothing mattered and he didn’t care anymore. He was finally at peace.

Tyler set the paper on his desk and slowly opened up the bottle.

The room began to spin and his stomach and throat burned. His skin was on fire and his brain felt like it was being crushed. Everything was suddenly pain pain pain pain pain.

Then it was numb.

A door opened and slammed closed.

Footsteps pounded against the ground.

Another door was opened.

Screaming filled the air.

Something touched Tyler’s hand.

Two more voices filled the room.

 Everything became nothing.

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A few things. First and most importantly, if you ever need help, please please please, don't be afraid to go get it. It doesn't make you weak. I promise. Your life is so so so important. Second, this is not the end, but the end is very very close. Third, I PROMISE HE ISN'T DEAD. PLEASE KNOW THAT. TYLER IS NOT DEAD. No one dies in this. Fourth, lol have fun with this cliffhanger for a while <3