ஜ Capricious & Evanescent ஜ Assorted and Mainly Frerard One-Shots ஜ

Empathy Might Be On The Brink Of Extinction

Kitchen Sink//twenty one pilots

"Go away."

"Go away."

"Go away."

"Go away."

That's all he ever said. I wrote those two stupid fucking words in my notebook over and over again until it was all just too much, until those two words turned into a black background, a halo of darkness around that stupid sketch I did of that stupid pretty boy.

I didn't know him, but it's not like he said those words to be snobby. He looked more sad, always sitting by himself. One time I saw someone throw half a sandwich at him—he wasn't popular by any means. Yet any attempt at friendship, he just batted it away.

"Hey."

"Leave me alone."

Once he started using those three words, I briefly wondered if I was getting somewhere. If I had moved up from "Go away" to "Leave me alone."

"I hope your day was nice."

"Leave me alone."

I had started writing our short conversations in my notebook. I jokingly liked the think that my notebook was my own shrink—I'd become attached to it, too. Anything I was thinking about or obsessing over, it went into the notebook.

"Your name is Frank, right? I don't mean to be creepy, sorry, I just happened to see your picture in the yearbook—"

"Leave me alone."

Ever since he'd shown up my notebook changed completely. The bright, popping colors of superheroes and cartoon monsters had been replaced with notes and drawings inspired by him. Maybe it was a bit strange, styling a notebook after a person. I'd never been this persistent, trying to get someone to talk to me.

"I really like your hair, has anyone ever told you that? If I tried to spike it up like that in the back it'd look like a bird's nest. Then again I'd have to cut it..."

"Leave me alone."

I'd never sat next to him, but that day I decided to. Frank had transferred to school in April, on my birthday, in fact. Even if I couldn't talk to him, he was a rather pretty present, a cute addition to the bland concrete scenery during outdoor lunch. I'd tried to talk to him so many times, but it usually just ended up with me walking away. But that day I sat down a few feet away, not eating, merely doodling nonsense verses in my notebook.

It was lunch again, and Frank was sitting on the stairs, quiet, looking at his hands. I'd never seen him eat, he usually had a book or he just sat with some schoolwork. This time I didn't even say anything—I just sat down a few feet from him and quietly opened my notebook.

"Leave me alone."

The words startled me—he had said them unprovoked this time. I looked up, but he was merely staring at his hands.

"I didn't say anything." I said softly, staring at him for a few seconds before looking back at my notebook. "But fine. Are you going to tell me to go away, too?" Silence.

"... No." He said after about a minute of the breeze and the sounds of other faraway kids chattering being the only sounds we could hear. "There's a reason I stopped saying that." I didn't know what to respond with, so I didn't. I merely hummed curiously in response. He didn't answer. I was preoccupied anyway though. At this point I was scribbling down the words in my notebook—he had never spoken to this astounding length before.

Frank didn't say anything after that, merely looked at his hands for the rest of lunch period. Eventually I put down my notebook and looked up at the clouds, wisps of cotton against the robin's egg blue sky.