sober//joshler

LEAVING

Tyler let himself into his dingy hallway silently. He could hear the vague sounds of shuffling from the kitchen that told him his mother was home and awake, but he didn't stop to say hello. She didn't want to talk to him, be didn't want to talk to her.

He was leaving.

Not forever. But until the trip was over. He'd already called Jenna, already arranged it with her parents, who's kindness over the phone had nearly brought him to tears. He would crash at their place for the rest of the week and then, bright and early next monday the Blacks would take their flight to the Bahamas, Jenna included, and Tyler would get on the bus to Maine.

Alone, because, fuck, Jenna was going to tbe fucking Bahamas. Not on the trip. The one person Tyler felt remotely safe around was going in the complete opposite direction to him.

He was gonna be alone.

He had done a good job of not being angry with her on the phone. Not that he had the right to, anyways. She wasn't his caretaker. he wasn't her responsibility, or her job. It wasn't fair to assume he was her biggest priority. She had a life without him, for God's sake. He was a functioning person, and he could survive without her.

But knowing he shouldn't be angry didn't help. It didn't stop him from swinging a punch at his door which let out a resounding thud as it slammed into the wall.

Below him, the shuffling in the kitchen stopped.

Tyler ignored it. He grabbed a duffle bag out of his closet, blowing away the musty smell as he set it on his bed. Humming tunelessly, he pulled open his closet and started grabbing the warmest clothes he had and throwing them in. He'd sort out toiletries later.

He was just grabbing his sketchbook and phone charger when there was the sound of footsteps at his door. Clenching his jaw, Tyler shoved the objects into his bag as his mother pushed his door open slowly.

She had been crying again, and the worst part was Tyler felt no sympathy. Not anymore.

"What are you doing?" she asked, voice wavering. Tyler hoisted the bag onto his back and faced her.

"Leaving. I'm going to Jenna's. Then on a school trip. I'll be back soon."

He shut out her wordless gasping as she gripped his hand pathetically.

"P-please..." she stammered. "I need you here...please..."

"I'm going." Tyler said coldly, shaking her off.

It was amazing how fast her moods could change. She was like a pendulum, weepy one moment, cold-faced and bitter the next.

"You ungrateful fag," she spit out as he shoved past her, emerging out onto the pale-lit landing. Her words bounced off his back, brittle and meaningless. He had long since grown accustomed to her mannerisms. They didn't affect him anymore.

"After all we did for you," she continued, following him out. "This is how you repay us? It- it should've been-"

"What, mom?" Tyler spat, whirling around. "It should've been what, exactly?"

She glared him down. "It should've been you," she hissed, red eyes narrowing. "Instead of Jay."

He ignored her. Nothing new, nothing to worry about. Instead he walked down the stairs, grabbing his keys and slipping on his boots wordlessly.

"I wish you were dead instead of him!" she cried from the landing. "I wish it was you!"

Tyler didn't look back as he unlocked the door. He paused for a moment, one foot over the threshold, cold wind stinging his eyes.

"I wish that too, mom. Sorry to disappoint."

And slamming that door had never felt better.