taken by sleep // joshler

three

trigger warning;self harm

When I walk through the door, I go straight up to my room. My parents aren't home yet, but I close and lock the door just in case they do come home.

I yank out my headphones and throw my phone onto my bed, looking around for the box. My eyes glide over the dresser, keyboard, and ukulele before finally resting on the shelf beside my mirror. There it is.

I grab the small black box, sit on my bed, and unhook the latch that keeps it shut. Inside lay 4 blades of varying sizes and sharpnesses, and a little yellow sticky note. I frown, reading the sticky note again for what must be the millionth time. I see it every time I open the box.

It's a note Josh wrote me, and I stuck it inside the little container for him, in hopes that sometimes it would help me stop. "You're so much better than this, Ty. Stay alive." It reads.

"Not today, I'm not, Joshua. I'm sorry." I mutter, moving around the note to access one of the blades.

"Cool gray, dark with blue undertones. Numb." I say to myself as I pick up the dullest one, hoping to at least feel something.

I set the box down beside me and place the blade to a clear section of my slightly tanned skin. There's not a lot of room, but sometimes I find some unharmed skin to tarnish. I press with some force, dragging the blade across the flesh.

I feel nothing, so I do it again, only harder this time. I do it again and again, until I see blood drip down my arm. I can hear the voices in my head, they're screaming at me, eating at my brain.

Go deeper.

No one will care.

No one cares about you.

Go on, do it again.

We can't feel anything.

They're right. I can't feel anything either. I try again and again, until there are 4 new wounds in my arm. The last one gave me some satisfaction, as I went a little too deep and I could feel the sting from the tears I didn't know were coming out. My arm is dripping blood, but I hardly feel it anyways.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see my phone, screen lit up. I grab a random towel from my floor, wrap it around my arm, and pick up my phone. There are a few texts from Josh.

From: Josh
Ty I'm sorry, I didn't mean to walk away like that.

Ty, where are you? You weren't in bio

Tyler where did you go?

Fuck Tyler please answer me

I'm coming to your house, you better be there.

The last text was sent 5 minutes ago, meaning Josh would be here soon. I wipe my eyes, trying to clear away the evidence of my weakness. I wipe of the blade with the towel and throw it in the box, hiding it behind a few books on my nightstand.

I walk to the bathroom, and as soon as I turn the faucet on, I hear the front door open. 

"Tyler!" Josh yells, his footsteps thudding through the hallway. I hear him check my room first, then his head pops in through the door frame of the bathroom.

"Tyler why didn't you answer my texts? I was so-" he stops mid sentence, eyes trailing down to the bloodstained towel still wrapped around my forearm. He looks at me again, this time his eyes filled with pity. I hate it.

"Ty, why? I thought you weren't gonna do this anymore."

"I guess I lied." I say quietly, avoiding his eyes now. I can't stand it when he looks at me like that, it makes me feel so guilty.

"Colour?" He sighs, unwrapping my arm and pulling it gently under the still running water. He takes the hand towel from the rack and gently wipes the fresh wounds, clearing out the blood.

"Fire truck red, midnight blue. Angry, depressed."

"Let me wrap this up, then we'll go watch some movies, okay? You can choose." Josh smiles a little, trying to lighten the mood despite the scenario.

He feels so bad about leaving Tyler today, he just got so fucking angry. He doesn't know why he gets so mad when they make fun of Tyler, but something inside of him just turns and he can't control it. He hates to see his baby boy hurt. 'Wait, what?' Josh thinks. Baby boy? Where the fuck did that come from?

Suddenly Josh shakes his head, a grimace appearing on his face. I reach out with my other hand, smoothing the lines that appear on his forehead, between his eyes, unconsciously.

Josh raises his eyebrows, shocked out of his thoughts by the strange, but sweet gesture. His cheeks flare a wild red. What is going on between us? This never happened before. I pull my arm away quickly, avoiding his eyes once again and waiting for him to finish so I can crawl in a hole and never come out. My cheeks are bright red too, I can feel it.

Josh finishes wrapping my arm and shoves his hands in his pocket clearing his throat. "Let's.. uhm... let's go to m-my room." I stutter, and quickly turn away from the red haired boy.

What the actual heck is going on right now?