S L O W T O W N

Just The Beginning

Chocolate eyes open fast, flicking over the unfamiliar room.

Tyler sits up slow, swallowing heavily, Josh isn't beside him, the bed cold where he would've laid.

He checks the time, past midday, possibly the latest he had ever slept in.

Creeping out of bed, Tyler cautiously pops his head out of the slightly open bedroom door, peering down the hall.

"Josh?"

Voice barely above a whisper, Tyler decides to carefully exit the room, padding down the hall, ridged and paranoid.

"Josh are you home?" Tyler stops in the kitchen, the obvious silence showing that not only was Josh not home, no one else was either.

Tyler travels back into the bedroom, pulling out his clothes to find his tablets, taking the packet to the kitchen and fetching himself a cup of water to chase the bitter pill with.

He finishes the cup, placing it on the drainer next to the kitchen sink, staring down the drain for a few moments.

Tyler goes over everything that had happened whilst he was alone, piecing together what played out after their fight.

Josh had cracked Tyler in the head with his skateboard, an obvious slice across the bridge of his nose and above his eyebrow, scarring up like the one on his cheek.

Tyler runs a thumb across the belt scar, sighing for a few moments before shaking his head.

Josh began to run away, so Tyler walked back inside, Blurryface just stared at him, but Tyler could only hear the walls screaming at him, just casually reminding him that he had messed up yet again, and ruined everything.

Tyler shakes his head more aggressively, feeling dizzy once he stops, a hand reaching out to grab the side of the counter to steady himself.

He had sat on the lounge staring dead ahead for hours, but Tyler wasn't sure if it was hours or days he had sat there, the verge of a mental breakdown in the back of skull, clawing its way forward to tear out of his lungs.

He flexes his hand, bruises across his knuckles as he recollects punching through his kitchen wall a few times.

Tyler closes his eyes, there was a knife at his wrist at some point, not brave enough to push down.

What was the point anyway, that wouldn't have solved a damn thing, Tyler reminds himself yet again.

He would've just painfully bled out on the kitchen floor, alone and in agony.

Tyler didn't want to die, not anymore.

Now Tyler had Josh, life was beautiful, the whole dark veil lifted.

Tyler balls a fist, clearing the air with it and letting his hand relax as he walks away from the sink, unsure of what to do now he was alone in Josh's house.

At his house, Tyler would always find plenty of things to do to fill the strange void of time, but now he was in a house he wasn't used to, and he wasn't even supposed to be in, Tyler couldn't figure out a single time passer.

He throws the packet into his bag, deciding on getting changed having slept in his clothes from yesterdays incident.

He picks out something nice, cursing himself that he had only packed a couple of pairs of underwear.

His skin is grimy, a shower. Tyler exits the room for what feels like the four hundredth time, the bathroom next door to Josh's bedroom.

The unfamiliar white tiles are comforting, Tyler closes the door, locking it just in case.