Twenty Øne Reasons to Live

Chapter Øne

I don't want to live anymore.

This thought screamed in my skull, leaving behind a threatening echo. It mocked me. It mocked my pain.

It was a dreary day, rain slipped down my window like tears. I looked down to my hands, trying to ignore the scars that littered my wrists. I didn't know how long I could hide it, but it's been going on for three and a half years now, so I'd say my chances are pretty good. 

I just...wish these voices would stop.

BOOM! I jumped out of my skin as my older sister busted into my room.

"I won!" she screamed in a pitch that I thought could break every pane of glass in the house.

"You won what?" I asked, clawing my sleeves down to cover my "accidents" and I slammed my tattered leather journal shut.

"I won the tickets!" she replied, as if this would open my eyes to some wild revelation, but I was just as clueless as ever.

"Um. Congratulations, I guess?" I replied, dismissively. I just wanted to go back to my journal. 

She squealed and the sound annoyed me. "I...Can't...Believe it!" She hugged a piece of paper close to her chest as she finished, and it crinkled.

Rolling my eyes, I said, "Fine. I'll bite. What are the tickets for?"

"What do you mean what are they for? They're for the concert, duhhhh!"

"What concert, Sarah? Gosh, use complete sentences, please!" I yelled but she didn't seem to pick up on the irritation dripping in my tone.

Now evidently losing the ability to participate in verbal communication, she simply shoved the paper she had been clutching on to as if it were her life my way. My eyes danced across the page, and once I assimilated all of the information, I studied the two young guys printed in color on it.

They looked like complete weirdos. One had bright red hair and even brighter red eye makeup on, but he looked like he had done it himself....at night......in the dark......with a large paintbrush..............

The other had black paint caked on his hands and neck, like he tried to change the oil in his car and failed miserably, and he also had a red beanie on. Man, these guys like the color red... 

Apparently they were some band called Twenty One Pilots. I had heard of them before, but didn't care enough to look them up. But it was evident my sister was obsessed with them. She hovered over me like a vulture. 

"Oh, cool." I nodded, trying my best to seem even remotely interested for her.

"I can't wait! It's going to be amazing!"

"That's nice." I faked a smile. 

"I'm gonna go ask for permission right now!" Sarah practically danced out of my room. What acid was she on...?

I shook my head and opened my journal back up and resumed writing. I wrote songs and poetry and pain...Mostly pain. I guess it helped squelch some of my own. Several minutes went by, and my peace and concentration were broken by the booming sound of my father yelling, "Sarah! For the last time- you can not go to this concert with Jenny!"

Attempting to zone them out and go back into my deep thoughts, I closed my bedroom door and sat down on my bed. Not even thirty full seconds later, Sarah came thudding into my room again.