Øverturning the lies (a twenty one pilots fanfiction)

~Tyler~

This is all wrong. All wrong, all wrong, all wrong. 

No matter what he does he feels himself falling, falling into the same traps as always, ones he really thought he would have been able to avoid by now. 

Ones he wishes he never had fallen into in the first place.

Ones he wishes he could be free of. 

Truly free. 

He glances downward and while it's true that there aren't any chains restraining him and ever were, it feels like there are. 

In a way its freeing but in a way it makes him feel more trapped and crazy and fearful than ever. 

Crazy. 

Is that what he is? 

Out of touch with reality? 

Probably. 

He doesn't even know whether he is awake or asleep. He's in some sort of in-between place where he knows how much things will hurt when he wakes up but can't make his dreams change-

But are they dreams or are they some sort of fake, distorted, too-happy version of reality he can't even trust? 

Can he trust anything if the only thing even close to happiness he ever feels is made up, false?

No. 

He knows the answer.

No. 

He suspects he's always known that. 

No. 

Can't trust anything. 

He's tried that before. 

Decided to try to play the game where he opens up and actually tries to tell people what he's feeling. 

And look where that got him in the end. 

No better. 

He waits for himself to feel something. 

Anything.

Relief. 

Pain. 

Sadness. 

Something. 

Anything. 

Hurt.

Fear. 

But all he finds is empty pieces.

Empty. 

Empty hearts. 

Empty. 

Nothing. 

Nothing that will ever change anything. 

Nothing that will fix things. 

And yet all the pain and hurt and hopelessness that's somehow still mixed with a tiny bit of relief.

Relief. 

How? 

Why? 

Why is this all so confusing? 

His eyes open. 

He's awake now. 

Truly awake? 

Is he ever truly awake or just slowly going numb as the world spirals into chaos around him? 

He doesn't know. 

But he does know this: 

He feels so disoriented. 

Afraid. 

Lost. 

He can finally admit to himself he isn't happy on his own but can't change the fact that he is on his own. 

Doesn't know how or why-he's gripped by sudden emotion and while he still can't make himself cry, he still feels his mind poking at every flaw, reverting back to its self-destructive tendencies-but he is.

He probably did something wrong. 

Yes. 

He's done so much wrong. 

So little right. 

Truly. 

Will he ever really be able to look back to any point in his life and feel happy, proud of how far he has come? 

No. 

Has he ever really made any progress or just fallen back to the same place over and over again?

"Tyler?"

He hears his name, barely remembering in that moment that it means something, that that's who he is. 

And he just barely then remembers where he's lying and that other people with other worries are living, existencing outside of the chaotic place that's his mind. 

Barely remembers that they have worries and somehow can worry about things that seem so insignificant, so meaningless. 

Meaningless? 

Or is he the one who is seeing things all wrong? 

Probably the latter.

"Tyler..." 

Great. He finds himself biting his lip, afraid of what he might hear. Afraid, afraid, afraid. 

He doesn't want to be the reason for any confusion or hurt or pain or anything. 

Maybe that's why he's afraid. 

Afraid that somehow, he's to blame for something. 

Everything.

He probably is.

He finds himself glancing down at his hands, honestly and truly surprised that they're still clean...at least, as far as he can tell. 

He swallows.

"Tyler!" 

Finally he's shaken out of his mind long enough to force himself to get up. 

Josh looks relieved when he does, though. 

Maybe that's some kind of sign. 

Some kind of sign that he's truly meant to be here, right now. 

He hopes it is. 

He honestly and truly could use more hope and direction in his life.

Can't tell where it all will go but can breathe. 

So he does. 

Curling and uncurling his firsts, trying not to let anyone see through the hastily constructed walls of calm his mind has erected in an attempt to keep him safe.

Another day. 

He doesn't know how but he's made it to another day. 

He doesn't know what he will do with it. 

If this life he has been given will be worthwhile. 

Best not to think about that. 

Best not to wonder. 

Best to just live. 

If only. 

If only that was how his mind worked.

[I know you keep stealing my story parts, illegally I might add. Yeah, real discreet-I can see every time you take one of my updates. You're content to take my work but never insert my little notes? And yet you were fine making it sound like you were doing something perfectly legal.]

oh yeah. i forgot about that...stuff happens, you don't write as much fanfiction as you like, etc.