Friend, Please //Joshler// {SLOW UPDATES}

Don't Let Him Be Gone...

(Edited/Fixed 9/18/17)

Tyler was now 9; 4 years since he's seen Joshua. No contact in any way besides their mothers.

[Tyler's p.o.v] - (unedited)

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts,- depressing thoughts. Talks about self harm and wanted death / suicide.

I felt myself roll on my bed, not completely awake yet. I sat there for about three minutes before actually opening my eyes. I sat up, groaning at the wars that were taking place, waging behind my face and a bit above my throat; a migraine. I sat up, my hands flying up to my hair and gripping tightly as I felt light headed. I closed my eyes as I felt the weight sink into my head. 

"Tyler? Sweetheart are you up?" I heard my mother call through the door.

"y-yeah," I said tiredly of aching.

"Is everything okay?" Kelly sighed.

"U-uhm, yeah. Migraine." I sighed back.

"Mm. Well get up, it's time for school." She said, only the first part being clear to me. She must have walked away from my door since the last part of her saying was faded. 

I stood up, wobbling a bit so I grabbed onto the nightstand beside my bed to stabilize myself. I slumped over to my closet and grabbed my black skinny jeans and my teal-ish blue and purple mickey mouse shirt. I opened my bedroom door, walking out and dragging myself to the bathroom. Opening the door, I stepped in and closed myself in. I hesitantly ran a hand through my fluffy brunette hair, grabbing my toothbrush and brushing my teeth quickly before walking downstairs.

"Good morning," I huffed out as I saw my mother.

"Good morning," Kelly said, walking over to me with her hand cupped into a fist with a glass of water in the opposite hand. I put my hand out and she dropped two pills into my hand. I dropped them in my mouth and took the water from her hand, taking a few swigs of it.

I handed the cup back and walked to the front door, grabbing my black vans. I turned back around and walked back to the kitchen where I heard mother spreading butter across toast near the kitchen sink. 

I sat down at the table and bent down in the chair, slipping my left shoe on. My mother put the plate of toast on the table in front of me as I slipped my other shoe on.

You probably ask why my mother is hesitant. A lot of people do. Sometimes I do. But, I found out the answer. She knows I'm depressed. She knows I'm bullied. She knows I'm picked on, and she's tried so hard to help, between talking to me and to the school, pleading them until shes crying on the floor begging for assistance on my behalf. She's tried so hard and I don't expect her do to more, but she does, and it shows to me that she really cares, but she can't do anymore. She can't help me. No one can, not a therapist, not a counselor, no one. 

Maybe one person... but I haven't seen that person in four years,- besides, he's probably forgotten about me. No one would want to help a weak, insecure boy like me, and I don't expect anyone to besides Blurryface. Help? Did I say help? Yes I did. Its not a good help, its helping me get rid of my pain. Im waiting for the one day were it all ends, where Blurryface lets me go. 

People say;

"It's not worth it,"

"Don't do that,"

"Why do you do that?"

Why do I do this?

Because the people whom tell me that, don't understand because they are loved. They are loved 24/7 each minute of every hour in each and every single day. I'm not always loved. 

"Tyler, people do love you!"

People say that just to show pity. They don't know what hurts you until it kills you. In this case, that's depression, suicidal thoughts and anxiety. I wish I was dead. I was so close too. I don't even know why I'm here anymore, I'm just an ugly freak whom is a waste of space. You know whats funny? Im told to stay strong and keep fighting, yet no one understands; I've already lost this battle. Some day I'll just tie a noose around my mind, and maybe it will stop all the pain I've caused. Im just a schizophrenic eccentric. I cant think clear, I cant tal- 

"Tyler?"

"Tyler?!" 

I looked at my mom, leaning over the table across from me. I blinked back into reality and away from my depressing thoughts. 

"Hmm?" I hummed.

She looked down at my hands on the table. I averted my eyes down as I felt the pain hit me. I looked at the broken glass falling from my hands. Glass was scattered across the table. I looked at my hands beginning to bleed. I realized I had grabbed the vase from off the table out of anger and anxiety, and broke it within my own hands. 

"Alright, let's uhm.. get you cleaned up and off to school." She got up, sounding worried.

After she cleaned my hands and I finished getting ready for school, I walked down stairs and saw my mother with her phone in both hands, typing away at her phone. Probably texting Laura,- I figured. 

"Uhm, hey Tyler.." 

"Um."

She frowned and looked at me. 

"You can stay home today," She added.

Shes up to something.

"Why?" I asked.

"I have something to talk to you about" she said.

"Sit down," She continued. 

I sat down and folded my sore hands up and looked at her, waiting for her to begin. 

"Its about Joshua," 

"What? Are we going to see them soon?!" I got all happy and excited. I wanted to see Josh, badly.

"Actually, He's not really, feeling good." She moved her eyes down to the table.

"Wait? What? Is he sick? Is he going to die? Oh God, Please dont let him be gone.. He can't die! I want to see him again! Is he okay?"

"Actually- Tyler.." 

"What?! What? Please tell me we are going to see him again."

"Tyler.." I could tell she was trying to keep calm, but I saw her face flustering with anger. 

"Josh..- Josh.. I want to see him, I need to see him. We grew up together and- and.. you can't just part us! It's so unfair!" I complained.

"Tyler!"

"He is dead!"  She screamed.