Blurryface

School

I woke up to my alarm blaring and my head pounding. Great way to start the week.

Maybe if someone hadn't cried himself to sleep, you wouldn't have a headache.

I squeezed my eyes shut before throwing my feet over the bed and turning to take my meds. Anything to shut him up even a little bit. After showering and getting dressed, I sulked down the stairs, not even stopping in the kitchen to greet mom or my siblings; the sooner I get out of this house, the better. I don't think school is the best place to go, but at least it gets me out of here, even if only for a few hours.

"Tyler!" Mom called, following me to the front door.

I stopped, putting on my backpack as I spoke to her, "What?"

"Did you want a ride this morning?" Her arms were crossed over her stomach, and worry laced her voice. Lovely.

"No, I'll bike," I mumbled, tying my shoes.

"Ty," She tried again, sighing.

"Bye, mom," I cut her off, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek as I left.

Shutting everyone out cause he's a little upset, crying himself to sleep... Guys, is Tyler a baby?

I rolled my eyes, picking up my bike, and tried to tune out the argument that was numbly playing in my head. The other two were trying to defend me against Blurryface, that much I could tell, but like yesterday, the voices blended together and I couldn't make much out.

Once I got to the school, I slid out my phone and began typing.

To: Josh
Where you is

From: Josh
It's not even 8??

To: Josh
Couldn't stay home any longer. Come early?
Please?

From: Josh
Ugh fine

To: Josh
:)

I put my phone back in my pocket, wandering to a picnic table by the fence as I waited impatiently for Josh to get here. He doesn't live much further than I do, so I knew he'd be here in a few minutes, but that was still a few minutes stuck alone with those stupid voices in my head.

Aren't you kind.

Rolling my eyes, I began to pick at my nails. Any distraction is a welcome one.
After a few minutes of blatantly ignoring Blurryface, and subsequently being yelled at for it, Josh finally pulled up.

"Dude, why are you here so early?" He asked, parking his bike in the stand.

"Told you, couldn't stay at home any longer," I replied quietly, pulling my sleeves down a bit further to make sure the bandage was hidden. I don't think Josh would appreciate the greeting, 'Hi, how was your weekend? I slit my wrist!'

He would if he cared about you.

"He showed up, didn't he? Shouldn't that be enough proof?" I said under my breath.

"That bad already?" He asked, taking a seat across from me.

I shrugged, ripping apart a leaf that sat on the table.

Josh didn't say anything right away; I appreciate that he doesn't pry like mom, but sometimes it almost comes across as disinterest. I know it's that he's trying to find the right words, but... I don't know, I can't help the anxiety.

He is disinterested. I mean, it's not like you're an interesting person to begin with.

And he doesn't help that anxiety.