Suicidal tendencies (Joshler) (not edited)

Chapter two - poison guilt

"I'm sorry Mr. Gullible but lyings all I've learned, so be concerned..."

Josh is staring at the TV blankly, not really watching whatever is on (it looks like it might be NCIS or something similar but he's not really sure nor does he care). His hands are picking at the blanket he's snuggled under and his head is smushed into the cushion resting on the arm of the sofa; he's thinking, worried in fact, because (according to the baby blue clock on the wall) Tyler has been upstairs for twenty minutes and is doesn't take twenty minutes to use the bathroom. At least he thinks that what Tyler said he was doing - he should have paid closer attention.

Meanwhile, Tyler, is sat on the worn carpet and leaning against the bathroom door. In front of him he has shredded up Josh's letter and scattered it on the floor in a mix of salty tears and anger. Tears stream down his face in slow pathetic streams and every three seconds he gently bangs his head in the door behind him, as if it will get rid of the thoughts of what he just saw. He thought Josh was as happy as him, thought they shared a bubble of joy and love. Tyler, although fully aware he has no right to feel this way, is angry, furious because how dare Josh try to leave him in this way. He could manage to walk through the storm of a breakup. He could handle the mutilation of his other half dying of natural causes. He could resuscitate himself if he drowned because Josh drowned someone else in love. But this, how could Josh be so selfish? How could Tyler be so stupid?

Tyler crawls over the pieces of paper more shattered than Josh's will to live and gathers them up in trembling hands. Then, he slowly stands on legs, that are wobbling so much anyone could say he's taking his first steps, and stumbles out of the room and downstairs, knocking into walls and doors like he's imitating a violent drunk. Josh can hear Tyler crashing downstairs and drearily sits up, flinching as Tyler, who is now stood behind him with a blank stare, drops torn pieces of paper on his lap.

Gingerly, Josh picks up one of the pieces, carefully reading few words scribbles down in frantic handwriting, his writing, and he knows exactly what Tyler found and he is, to put it simply, petrified.

"Tyler?" Josh managed to get out, forcing himself to choke back the lump in his throat. Tyler hasn't moved from his position looming over Josh, glaring down on him and Josh cannot help but shrink under the gaze, feeling like an ant about to get crushed by the usually harmless being.

"Why?" The word is flat and dry, in fact the only indication Josh has toward any type of emotion other than anger coming from Tyler is the now dry blush red tear tracks scarred onto his cheeks.

"I just... I don't have an excuse, I never have a good excuse." Josh mumbles in reply, guilt rushing through his veins like poison.  He sits up properly, curling the blanket around himself in a protective layer of warmth because it's suddenly so cold. Freezing cold where Tyler's glowing happiness used warm up his heart and soul. Where, even though Josh was a raincloud Tyler's hot chocolate words created an almost real smile mere minutes ago. Now, he's just left internally screaming the same words over and over again 'dontleavemetylerdontleavemetylerdontleavemetyler.' But he doesn't say that, he can't say that.

"Well, I can guarantee it's in your best interest to start thinking up an excuse that's worth my time." He's not screaming, not crying, not glaring, not laughing, not smiling, not anything. His face is as blank as an empty canvas and that almost makes the (probably empty) threat more terrifying.

"I don't know." That is all he can think of to say without going on a rant about how worthless he is. How do you even explain to someone that the world simply just isn't the right place for you (in an eloquent and non hurtful manner)? This time, Tyler's face does show emotion, it contorts into desperation then sadness then guilt then anger then disgust and he scoffs before laughing maniacally.

"THATS NOT GOOD ENOUGH!" He screams, cutting the laughter short and Josh could swear he saw his eyes darken. He pulls the blanket even tighter around himself as Tyler paces in front of him, feet stomping against the wooden floorboards. Until he just stops, looks at Josh with an unreadable expression and leaves. Josh hears the kitchen door slam shut seconds later.

When the door does slam Josh can feel his body trembling and his lip start to quiver but he doesn't cry, just sits there with a lump in his throat like someone has their hands wrapped around his neck in an attempt to strangle the very soul out of his body. He feels guilty, so indescribably guilty.

Tyler is sat at the kitchen table, coming down from his high of emotions with the only thing keeping him in focus being the steady tap of his fingers on the table in front of him. He looks down at his lap, contemplating whether or not if he filled the sink with alcohol and dunked his head under he would drown or manage to drink it all before passing out in a puddle of hatred. He feels guilty, because the raincloud covering his judgement just moments ago is gone and he knows he must have hurt Josh, knows that he just yelled at someone that means so much to him yet is clearly in need of help Tyler didn't supply. Mostly though, as the thoughts of drowning crash through his head like waves of ice, vodka and blood, he feels a minuscule understanding of what Josh must feel every day, which is simply terrifying.

Still, Tyler just stays put, listening to the soothing rhythm of his fingers tapping against the table. Once again doing nothing to help Josh, once again oblivious to the guilt eating away at the boy in the next room.

1037 words.

Sorry