midnight man (joshler)

chapter eighteen/finish it you coward

ignore that it's from teen wolf i didn't even know it just fits ok

chapter eighteen/finish it you coward

it takes ten seconds.

from the moment i walk in the front door, cast a tight lipped smile at my mother, and march myself downstairs, my timer is running. ten seconds later, i collapse on the floor. sobs wrench through me.

how could i trust him? how could i love him? does he love me? am i going to die?

y o u r e a l r e a d y d e a d.

i groan, clutching my head. it's pounding, like someone wants out. i muffle my screams with my other hand, clamping it firmly over my mouth.

k i l l y o u r s e l f b e f o r e h e k i l l s
y o u. 

i force my tears to stop, and roughly wipe the extra ones away. i stomp over to my bathroom, a new determination flooding me.

- trigger warning: suicidal ideation & cutting & rape & all things murder -

"you want me dead, tyler joseph?" i whisper under my breath, tugging a blade out of my razor.

"not really no."

"why the fuck are you here?" i huff, not turning around.

"i need you to speak to me josh. what are you- what are you doing?" he asks, and i feel his hand on my shoulder.

"trying to kill myself, what about you?" i snort.

"josh what the fuck?" he exclaims, ripping the razor out of my hand. it scrapes across my fingers and i watch the blood drip.

"finish it, you coward," i sneer at him.

"josh what?" he stumbles backwards.

"kill me!" i shout.

"i don't want you dead, you moron," he snaps.

"like hell you don't," i scowl.

"i love you," he says, like that means something.

"fuck you. you lied about everything," i scoff.

"what- josh, no i didn't. i have never lied to you," he defends.

"if i didn't know better i'd say you were the one who killed your mother," i narrow my eyes.

i don't miss the flicker of guilt across his face.

"oh my god!" i raise my hands in the air, laughing in disbelief.

"you don't understand, i can't fucking control it josh," his tone is begging me to listen and i'll be damned. i listen.

"there's something wrong with me, josh," he whispers urgently. "i black out and i can't remember where i've been, what i've done. all i can do is wash the blood off my hands and pray to god that zach or jenna buried the body. they're the only people who care about me josh, and i know i'm a hard person to care about. but i'm still so sure you care about me too."

i sigh, sitting down on my bed. i rub my temples with my forefingers, and laugh again in disbelief. "of course i still care about you."

he crouches on the floor in front of me, catching my gaze.

"then please josh. don't leave me. don't back out of this. no one wants you dead. we want you to join, josh."

"you expect me to kill people?" i look at the hope in his eyes.

"no. keep track of the murders. make sure we don't get caught. that's all you need to do, j. we can be together like this," he whispers, trailing his hand up my thigh.

"tyler..."

he trails it higher, and i sigh heavily.

"stop. i'll do it, just... stop," i push him away.

"c'mon baby," he whispers.

his mouth captures mine and i can't deny him what we both so badly want. my mind reels and, for the first time, i wonder if all of this is worth it.

"stop, tyler," i shove him away.

his expression is wounded and he asks me why.

"i don't know you, anymore," i shake my head.

"baby, of course you do."

"no," i say clearly. "i thought i knew tyler joseph. i don't see him sitting in front of me right now."

"what can i do to convince you?" his tone is guarded.

"what happened to your mom?"

he freezes, like he always does when he doesn't want to answer something. i wait patiently. eventually he gives in.

"when i was eight, my mom got a new boyfriend. he wasn't nice, josh. he wanted me. i was eight years old," he shakes his head.

i don't feel sorry. i don't feel anything.

y o u d e s e r v e i t

are you talking to me or to tyler?

b o t h.

asshole.

i m s t i l l y o u.

"he took my... my eight year old cock out and he jerked it for a while. i didn't know any better about any of this. he took his own forty year old one out, and pushed it in my mouth. he told me to suck it, or else he'd have my throat slit while my brother zach watched. i sucked the best i knew how. i was eight," he shakes his head.

"he um... he did this a lot. i told my mom. she laughed in my face, j. she didn't care. she told me to do what he said. 'quit being a pain in the ass, tyler'."

"i was mad. i crept into her room that night, zach taking care of her boyfriend on the couch. we had each others' backs, even then. i had a knife in my hand and i stabbed her. over and over. and i smiled when i saw the blood splatter. i hid the knife under my pillow across the hall. all the police would've had to do was look," he shakes his head.

"anyway... i guess i got obsessed with the way that blood flooded out. the feeling and the sound of the squelch bodies make when you're stabbing them. it's the adrenaline rush of playing death's servant. it was my first love."

"are you sorry?" i ask in the silence that follows.

"no," he says, emptily. "they deserved it. so. are you scared of me yet?"

and, a shocking part of me, one i was not fully aware of until just now, murmurs, "no."