twenty one pilots one shots

Next Door

A/N: I saw this thing on tumblr that was Truce edited to how you would hear it if Tyler were playing it next door and it gave me this idea so enjoy

It was 3 in the morning. Well, 3:03 to be exact.

I was sitting at the edge of my bed, staring down at my hands. I was baffled by them. These things have held her hands, touched her soft skin, weaved through her blue hair. Then, they held her dead body that was originally lying on the bathroom floor.

Ever since Ashley left, my hands have mainly been lying dormant at my sides. Now, I wanted to put these hands to use. I wanted to use them against myself, just like her hands did to her. I wanted my hands to destroy me. I wanted them to take my heart in their grasp and reduce it to dust. I want them to rip my soul out of my body and toss it aside like rubbish.

No one would miss me anyway. My family might, but they would get over it eventually. They wouldn't mourn me for long. My elegy would be brief. The sorrow would only be felt for a moment.

I curled my hands into a fist, making my knuckles turn white and blue veins pop out on the back of my hands. 

I didn't notice I was crying until I saw a tear drop onto one of my knuckles.

I inhaled deeply as sobs began to rack my body.

"I want to die," I choked out, rocking my body back and forth. I grasped at my hair, tugging. "I want to die!"

I hugged my knees to my chest, wailing. I hoped none of my neighbors could hear me.  

Not a second later, I heard a piano playing, muffled by the walls.

I sniffled, the sound already calming me down a bit. The notes flowed from one to the other so slowly and beautifully, like a fluttering butterfly.

Then a voice began to sing, even more muffled than the piano they were playing.

Now, the night is coming to an end,

The sun will rise and we will try again.

My tears have become silent, slipping down my cheeks. Whoever was singing—a guy, I think—had an amazing voice. It was so solemn and sincere, like a mother's lullaby. He meant the words he was saying. He believed in them.

Stay alive,

Stay alive, for me,

You will die,

But now your life is free,

Take pride in what is sure to die.

That only made me start crying again. I don't even know this guy, and he's telling me that he wants me to stay alive for him. He doesn't know me, either. He's singing a song about not killing yourself to a complete stranger. How could he do that? How could he tell the next door neighbor he doesn't know a thing about to keep going?

I will fear the night again,

I hope I'm not my only friend.

Now, he's saying if I leave, he'll be alone and afraid? We've never formally talked to each other. We don't even know each other's names.  Who is this guy?

Stay alive,

Stay alive, for me,

You will die,

But now your life is free,

Take pride in what is sure to die.

There was a final flourish; the butterfly hovered for a moment, then landed on its perch.

I slowly got to my feet, sitting down next to the wall that separated us. "Did you write that song?"

"Y-yeah," The voice replied. "I wrote it a while ago. I thought it would help you."

"It did. Thank you." I smiled slightly.

"You're welcome. It helped me, too."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I know how you feel. I heard about your girlfriend a while ago. Wasn't her name Ashley?"

"Yeah." I nodded.

"I lost my girlfriend, too. She got in a car wreck a few days before Ashley died." His voice cracked a bit as he spoke.

"Oh, I'm sorry. What was her name?"

"Jenna."

"What was she like?"

He chuckled then. "She was gorgeous. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen, inside and out. You could punch her in the face and she'd still be nice to you. She was outgoing. She was bright. Always smiling. She had the most beautiful eyes..."

"She sounds amazing."

"She was. What was Ashley like?"

"Basically the opposite of Jenna," I laughed. "Well, at least until you got to know her. She's stubborn, guarded, Ms. Spitfire. But once she lets you in she comes out of that tough shell. She's loyal, caring, giving. If she finds out someone did something to you, she makes sure they'll pay for it."

"You were a lucky man."

"I was," I smiled. "But I miss her."

"I know. I miss Jenna. I miss her smile and her eyes."

I nodded.

"I was going to propose to her that day. She was driving to this restaurant I told her to meet me at, but she never made it."

"Oh, dude, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be," He paused. "I couldn't imagine her dying the way Ashley did, though."

I sighed, shutting my eyes.

"I couldn't imagine finding her on the fl—" He cut off his sentence. "Sorry. I shouldn't talk about it."

"It's okay," I reassured him. "It's okay."

"You're a lot stronger than I am." He said.

I scoffed. "Not really."

"Jenna was taken by another's reckless actions. Ashley took her own life. You have so much more to deal with, guilt-wise," He continued. "The night I came home after Jenna died I attempted. You haven't—that I know of."

"Loss is loss, and grief is grief," I replied. "No matter what caused it, we all feel loss and grief the same way."

I didn't hear a reply from him.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Josh." I answered.

"I'm Tyler."

"We should get some sleep, Tyler." I told him.

"Yeah, you're right. Goodnight, Josh."

"Thanks, Tyler. Goodnight."

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Sorry this was so short but vote and comment if you liked it!!

Stay alive |-/

-Bailey