A person climbs into a taxicab, his eyes down and the keyboard held underneath their arm.
The rain falls down, dripping down the light outside, the lightbulb reflecting on the hood of the car.
Settling in the car, the person inside stares out the window, staring at the dark streets and listens to the rain falling on the ground. He didn't notice the taxi driver sitting front of the in the steering wheel.
With a sudden start, the car starts and heads down the road. As they drove, the person thought of how life could end, how the taxi driver could just pull the steering wheel. They held the power in their hands.
After driving, the person left the taxi and walked to their apartment. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he sat on his floor and looked up at the ceiling, unable to see in the dark room.
Memories flashed through his mind, violent yet graceful like lightning. He played a sorrowful tune on his keyboard, his lanky fingers running over the keys. He felt the colors running through his veins. Emotions coursed through his skin and left a tingling feeling.
The black and white keys mirrored his personality; one dark and living in a dark world, hissing at the back of his mind, whispering cruel comments about himself. It was like a knife, stuck in the back of his mind, stabbing his brain with every harsh word. His blood of many colors flowed from the wounds and his tears streamed down his cheeks.
He referred to him as Blurryface.
The white keys were himself, living in a life of major, playing a song of sadness and pain, but of beauty and colors. He liked this world, not the world of the black keys.
Was he falling inside himself? Was he being swallowed by the cavern of darkness and bitterness?
He shuddered. There was no reason to think like that.
As he played, a box appeared in front of him, glowing slightly from the scratches of his own fingernails as he struggled to open the box so many times before.
He stretched a hand and ran his fingers over the box. It was so simple yet so complex, much like life itself.
Just as he did this, a honk outside was heard.
He slowly rose to his feet and walked to the window, looking down at the street.
A taxi, the same one as before, was parked outside. Three men stood outside, loading things into the taxi. He frowned, as he could only see the backs of their heads.
With a simple movement, he opened the window and stuck his head out. Water ran down his head and dripped down his cheeks, resting at his chin.
He had ridden in so many taxis before, but why was this one making him feel so weird? He pondered over this for a while. Maybe it was the weather. In his world, he hadn't seen the sun in quite some time. He hadn't looked up in a while.
Two men started to unpack, and as they were unpacking, he heard someone speak. It felt like he was talking to him. He looked down, and watched the man talking.
“I know the night will turn to gray
I know the stars will start to fade when all the darkness fades away
We had to steal him from his fate so he could see another day.”
Was he talking about him? It sure felt like it. He turned around and stared at the box, which was glowing brighter than it was before. He was mildly afraid as he heard someone pushing on the door to his room.
Terrified, he sprinted down the stairs, exiting the building in a fright. He ran to the taxicab, slamming his hands on the hood, his palms sore and hurting.
He opened his mouth and shouted to the men, “I'm alive and well, or am I dreaming dead?”
The man looked at him, his eyes dull and sad. “We’re driving toward the morning, son.” The man rested a gloved hand on his shoulder.
He blinked and silently stared at him.
“Where all your blood is washed away and all you did will be undone.” A smile crossed his face as he gently guided him to the taxi's door.
He sat down on the seats in the taxi, his keyboard next to him. He didn't remember bringing it with him.
The men entered the car and the driver looked at him, smiling sadly with sorrow in his eyes.
“Tyler, we're going home.”
YOU ARE READING
Taxi Cab (Twenty One Pilots)
Short Story"And I said, don't be afraid." All rights for the song go to Twenty One Pilots. The writing of the story itself (aside from the lyrics used) belong to me.
