By Your Side (Twenty One Pilots)

Memories To You

Tyler and Josh were sitting on the couch. A tense silence filled the air around them. It had been exactly a day since Tyler mentioned that he had run away during his childhood. Josh was dying to know more, but he hadn't said anything. Tyler had been quieter, as if he knew that the inevitable conversation about it was going to happen and he was preparing himself mentally.

"I know you're still thinking about that," Tyler spoke up, his voice cutting through the silence like a sword.

Josh looked over at his best friend. Tyler's eyes were dark with sadness.

"And I know I should say something. I shouldn't keep this from you."

Josh shook his head. "No. If you don't want me to know, don't tell me. Yeah, I'm going to wonder about it, but that's your own personal thing. You don't have to share it. God knows I have things I don't want to share."

"But I feel like I need to tell someone. Or well, at least need to tell you. It's a big part of my life." Tyler looked down at his lap as he spoke. Another silence filled the room, but this time it was accompanied by caution rather than tension.

"When I was younger, I was bullied," Tyler whispered. "Not physically, but mentally. I mean, towards the end it was a little physical, but they mostly just said things. I started to believe them. I thought I was worthless, I thought I was useless, I thought I was stupid. It was hell. They told me no one cared about me, that my family didn't care about me. I believed them."

Josh reached out to Tyler with his hand, but Tyler moved away. Josh could tell that he was moving into the part of his mind that he had avoided for so long. Josh was happy that at least he sandy alone this time.

"Then, one day when I was fifteen, I couldn't handle it. I tried to fight back. The principal saw it, but only the part where I beat up the other kid....."

"Hey, Joseph!" A voice called out.

I abandoned walking and started to jog.

"Where do you think you're going?"

I started to sprint.

A strong hand grabbed the back of my jacket. I tripped and fell to the ground, scraping my face on the pavement.

"Oh, did the little boy fall down? Does he need his mommy?" a kid mocked as he leaned down and reached my level. "Well too bad! She doesn't care about you!"

Before I could reply, a foot hit my stomach. I couldn't breathe. I was shocked. They had never physically hurt me before. I never thought they would. Maybe they were just saving it for today....

"Get up and fight like a man!" Another kid shouted. Someone grabbed my jacket again and pulled me to my feet. Pain ripped through my abdomen.

"Oh are you hurt? I would hate for it to get any worse!"

Then he punched me. Right in the face. I couldn't see.

"Why," I choked out. "Why are you doing this? What do you get from it?"

"We don't get anything," someone said. I recognized him. He was always there tormenting me. I looked up and met his eyes. "But you get what you deserve, you useless son of a bitch!"

"Don't call my mom a bitch!" I yelled. I broke free of their hold on me and swung at the guy in front of me.

He ducked, but looked back at me shocked. I had never fought back in anyway before.

"You think you can beat me up, Joseph?" he taunted. "I would love to see you try."

Then I attacked. I swung my fists as hard as I could. I wasn't going to let them get away until they felt the pain that they had put me through for five years. My knuckles were numb and bleeding, my breathing ragged, my heart pounding.

"Hey!" A deep voice cut through the air. My fist froze in its oath directed at the other boy's nose. "What do you think you're doing?"

A larger, stronger hand pulled me back by my hood and held me up a few inches from the ground. After he placed me back on the ground, well, more like threw me, I turned around to see the face of my new attacker; the principal.

"He just started beating Jason up, Mr. Roberts!" someone to my left screamed. I whipped around and stared at him, my mouth hanging open in shock.

"Yeah!" someone else chimed in. "He didn't even have a chance to fight back!"

"What? No!" I cried. "That's not what happened at all!"

"Don't listen to him! He's a liar! You can't trust him."

"Yeah, Joseph had been beating Jason up for years now!"

"Expel him, Mr. Roberts."

"He doesn't deserve anything good anymore!"

Mr. Roberts glared down at me, the evil of a thousand villains burning bright in his eyes. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me down the sidewalk and into his office.

He threw me towards a chair in the corner of the cold, bland room. My lip was bleeding and my hand was throbbing. My head was swimming in thoughts of unfairness and worthlessness.

"You know, you were the last kid I thought would do something like this, Joseph. You're siblings are so well behaved, and your parents are the nicest people I've met in a while. And then there's you."

I hung my head in shame. I knew that this was not the point to defend myself. He caught the wrong part. He would never believe a word I said now.

"Since this occurred on school property, you're going to have to go up against the committee. They aren't going to be nice," Mr. Roberts said. His back was turned to me the whole time. I could feel my left eye swelling up.

"Stay here while I call your parents."

I was angry. I was furious. I was scared. I was hurting.

No one would believe my story. It was six against one. It was what the principal saw against my word.

It made me angry that no one would ever take what I said for gospel. That's the way it always worked. Everyone believes the liars and the cheaters and never the victims or the ones who were caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was always the innocent who were wrongfully accused and changed as if guilty. No one listen to them. No one cared. That's how it always was. That's how this was going to be.

When the principal walked back in, my face was blank, my eyes were glazed over with angry tears, and my knuckles were a mixture of white, red, blue, and black.