trapdoor//joshler

Chapter 9: I Can, And I Will.

                                                     
(Tyler's view)

    For the last couple days I hadn't been able to get my mind off of Josh. I loved his presence. His voice. His drumming. His personality. Him. I loved him. 

     You're a waste. A waste of time. No one wants you. Barely anyone even knows you!

"That's not true!" I responded eagerly, "Get away! GET OUT!"

     Don't lie to yourself. You know it too.

  "NO! Stop! It's not true!" I was yelling now-luckily enough, in an isolated house, alone.

I spotted the razor from across the room. 

maybe if i could just try to not feel...

  You're afraid. You can't even draw the line across your own skin! 

"I can, and I will. If it gets rid of you!" 

The razor cradled itself in between my index finger and thumb... It brought itself to my wrist, effortlessly leaving a red path behind it as it moved across my skin.

  It won't hurt me, fool. The only thing it's hurting is your arm. I am in your head. The only way to kill your mind, is to kill the man who runs it

I could almost feel the evil smile that printed across his invisible face. His blurry face, and I cut deeper.

"I LOVE HIM! I LOVE JOSH!"

   HE DOE SNT WN  T YO U!

"YOU DON'T KNOW THAT!" I screamed, "Leave me alone!"

   I-

"Tyler?" 

It was Josh, yelling at the closed window across from me.

I sat up and wiped my eyes.

   "Hey," I said, opening the blinds, followed by the window itself.

 "Are you okay?" He asked, frowning as he saw my red and puffed-up eyes.

   "Yeah, I'm fine, why?" I asked, hoping not to hear an answer, but of course, I got one.

 "I heard you from outside."

   "Just working on a song, sorry. Is it that loud? Whoops," i said with a fake laugh

I lied.

  "Okay," he said, obviously not convinced. "May I?" He asked, pointing inside my room.

   "Sure. Front door."

As he ran over to my door, i used the couple extra seconds to hide the razor and put on a long-sleeved shirt, and sped down the stairs.

                                 |- / josh POV

  "I know you're not okay," I said.

He didn't look up.

He said he loved me. He loved me? Did he really?

   "What makes you say that?" He asked, And I knew he didn't want an answer, but he got one.

  "Look at me, Ty." I said, and he turned to face me.

   "It's bleeding through." I said, without taking my eyes off of his. God he made it so difficult to just look at him.

He looked down at his sleeve, ashamed in his choice of shirt-color. He didn't look back up. His head just hung there, his body frozen.

  "Tyler..." 

He didn't look up.

   "Ty-"

"I'm sorry," He said, as his head tilted further downward.

"Tyler! Don't be sorry! You have nothing to be ashamed of. You aren't alone. You never have been!"

   He sat there for a minute. Then looked back up at me.

 "You don't know." He replied plainly, voice cracking on 'dont'

I leaned back. He didn't know. I grabbed my own wrist for a second, exhaled, then turned it over, only to expose the slits on my own wrist. He looked over at me. Then down at my wrist. Then up. Then down. Then finally back to me. He leaned forward as if he was about to tell me something. His mouth opened, but no words came out. He closed his mouth. I leaned forward too. And before I could picture what might happen next, the boy I loved had his lips against mine, and mine against his. 

A/n I'm sososo sorry if this offends anyone, and I'm not trying to romanticize self harm, if you read through to the end there is an acknowledgements chpt and that might help explain most of this.