midnight man (joshler)

chapter six/may be psychotic

chapter six/may be psychotic

it takes three days to start trusting tyler again.

i spend them locked in my room. i miss school. i miss texts. i miss mark's calls. i miss my shift.

i don't know if tyler came in at midnight those three nights. i haven't talked to mark yet. i haven't gone to work yet. my mom is worried. she thinks i'm getting bad again. i can hear her through the walls.

"... i'm worried ... does he seem depressed again?" she asks.

"no ... i think ... he may be psychotic," my dad's gruff voice comes in and out to my ears.

tyler may be psychotic. i know i'm not. three days later i still don't know if those were brooms or a body. i don't want to know the answer. i don't know if tyler was involved.

i haven't cried. i felt like i was going to be sick the night i walked back to the gas station. my car is still there; i walked straight past it that night. i didn't want to face mark asking me why i looked so shaken. what would i say? tyler joseph might be apart of what cops call 'assisted murder'.

i keep thinking the man in the van is following me. i hear a car late at night cruising up and down my street. i worry it's him. i worry he's going to kill me too.

was it a body?

was it a dead body?

how will i know?

h o w c o u l d i k n o w ?

my mind shuts off. i don't want to think anymore.

||

"josh, man, you're acting crazy," mark smacks his hand on the counter. "what's gotten into you?"

"nothing, dude. you get stared down by some guy who's shutting his trunk of dead bodies, then watch tyler joseph try to convince you it's something different. tell me how your mind reacts," i snap, throwing a bag of potato chips into their rightful spot on the shelf.

"josh there's a janitor down at hays & nights every night. he leaves at two a.m. what time was it when you guys eventually stopped there?"

"2am..." i mumble, realization hitting me. i have been acting crazy. what has gotten into me?

tyler joseph, the troubled boy who works at the quaint little bookstore down the road... a murderer? the boy who wanted to swing at 3am? the boy who hates himself because he can't fall asleep like other people? there's no way.

congratulations josh dun: you're an idiot.

"fuck, mark," i groan, slamming my hand down on top of a bag of sour candy.

"it's okay, buddy. not too late. here he comes now, go talk to him," mark nudges me, pointing in the direction of the drink aisle.

sure enough, it is 12:00 a.m. on the dot, and tyler joseph is picking up a can of his signature energy drink. i watch as he walks to the register, peering blankly at where i usually am.

"one thing. did he come every night even when i wasn't here?" i ask mark.

"like a lost dog," he confirms.

"okay," i roll my shoulders, stalking behind the counter with confidence.

an expression that can only be described as relief passes his face. then he looks at me as if he's seeing me for the first time. i'll be damned if that doesn't hurt a little.

"i promise i don't have any one waiting in a van to stuff your cold, lifeless body into," he says coldly.

i sigh, ringing up the can.

"i deserved that. tyler... i owe you an apology. a huge apology," i shake my head.

his gaze softens. his stone cold expression relaxes into a gentle one.

"it's okay," he slides his hand on top of mine.

"it's not," i disagree, flipping his hand underneath mine so as to grab onto it. "i assumed something that i know is a terrible thing to accuse a person of and i am so sorry tyler. i know you wouldn't... i know, okay."

"i would never hurt you," he looks into my eyes and it's hard not to melt under those chocolate brown orbs.

"i know that," i smile.

"good. i have to run, but... i trust you, dun."

"the unintentional rhyme there makes me trust you even more," i smile wider, handing him his drink.

"see you soon," he grins.

"tomorrow at midnight," i give him a nod.

"sooner than you think," he smirks, leaning backwards on the door and swiftly pivoting himself outside.