Goner

I'm a Goner

|-|-|-|-TRIGGER WARNING. THIS FIC IS SUPER TRIGGERING. PLEASE BE CAREFUL. STAY SAFE.-|-|-|-|

Tyler sat at his desk, a blank piece of paper in front of him, tapping his pencil on the wood.

His mind was blank. Try as he might, no ideas would pop into his head like they normally did. He was trying his best, but he'd been there for hours. Sitting. Staring. The paper seemed to bright somehow. Not like something that was waiting to be created, like some people would see it, but more like something that was barren, empty, sucking the life from the room. And from Tyler.

His soft brown eyes darted around the room, searching for something, anything, that would give him inspiration. Instead, his eyes landed on something else. A box, that sat on the shelf in his closet. If someone were to open it, they would find nothing but papers, covered in various things. But if they were to sift through the papers, they would find something different. A slim piece of sharp metal, possibly dotted with dried blood.

Before he knew what he was doing, Tyler slipped from his chair and walked over to the closet, reaching up and pulling down the box. He sat on the floor with it, then gently pulled off the cardboard lid, setting it next to him. After a moment of rifling through the papers, he pulled out the razor, and stared at the reflection of his chocolate eyes.

After a moment of this, he reached up onto the table and pulled the piece of paper down, and held it in one hand, the razor in the other.

He stared at the two things for a while, as if trying to choose between them. As he did so, something in the pit of his stomach—an urge, a powerful wanting, began to grow. Before long it became too strong, and he tossed the paper aside.

Despair flooded him. As the familiar feeling of his eyes prickling with tears hit him, he buried his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees.

"I'm a goner," he mumbled with a dry throat, his voice breaking.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled his sleeve down, then brought the razor up, to let the cold metal rest against his skin. He stared at it with sad, discouraged eyes, then slowly began to press down.

As beads of blood formed, he pulled the metal sideways, unflinching at the pain he was so used to.

He did this many more times, each time the razor traveling further up his wrist, until it almost reached his hand, then he let the arm holding the razor fall limp at his side, too tired to hold it up any longer.

He stared at his bloody wrist, his mouth seemingly stuck in a permenent pout. His eyebrows pressed together so he was sure they'd get stuck that way, as his mother had so often warned him.

He dropped his arm and let his head fall back, slamming against the wall with a deep 'thunk'. He let a broken sob escape his lips, as he realized what he had done.

It had happened so fast. He didn't even mean to do it, but he had.

"Goner," Tyler mumbled, almost delirious with the emotions flooding his body. "Goner, goner, goner."

He pulled up his other sleeve and gripped the razor tightly in his hand. "Goner, goner."

He sunk the metal into his skin, forming misshapen, lopsided words.

"I'm a Goner," he whispered, a sob rising in his throat. "I need someone to catch my breath. Death."

He let his head fall back again, letting out another sob. "I want to be known. I'm weak."

The tears suddenly spilled down his pink cheeks freely, as if a dam had broken. His chest heaved with silent sobs, his mouth twisted in a frown and his lips slightly parted.

Reluctantly, he pressed his mouth closed and stood up, thick crimson blood dripping from his arms onto the floor.

A sudden burst of anger filled him, and he found himself kicking the box that previously held the razor, sending it flying across the room, slamming into a wall. Papers flew everywhere. He picked up the chair, then threw it into the table, crying loudly now, the emotions coming so hard and so fast he couldn't even tell what they were anymore. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten. He was shaking, and weak.

Loud, broken sobs escaped his mouth as he fell onto the ground. He wanted to curl up but he couldn't. So instead he squeezed his eyes shut and screamed. It was high, and desperate, filled with anguish and angst.

The door was thrown open as a boy ran into the room, blue hair fallen in his face, cocoa eyes wide with worry.

"Tyler!" Josh yelled, crouching next to him. Tyler couldn't stop the sobs, they wouldn't stop. If anything, they came harder now that Josh was here. But he couldn't do nothing but lay there, vulnerable and broken.

"Tyler?" Josh whispered, staring with dismay at his bloodied arms, then at his tear streaked face. "Are you okay?"

Tyler did nothing to answer. He stared into Josh's soft, worried brown eyes, with his broken ones.

"I'm calling an ambulance," Josh said, pulling out his phone. "It'll be okay. You're gonna be okay."

"No," Tyler whispered. No it wasn't going to be okay. Josh wasn't supposed to know. Nobody was.

When the surge of adrenaline came, Tyler used it to fling himself at Josh, knocking the phone out of his hands. He shoved the blue-haired boy, who flew back with a gasp and slammed into the table, then lay on the floor with a groan.

"Oh my god," Tyler whispered, guilt drowning him. "What did I do to you? "He buried his hands in his soft brown hair and pulled. "I screwed up. Oh my god Josh I screwed up."

He crouched next to him and gave him a swift kiss on the forehead. "I've got two faces." He brushed the hair out of Josh's eyes, determination settling amongst the guilt in his stomach. "I'll slip away, into the sound."

With one last sad, longing look, he jumped up and ran, tears streaming down his face and sobs rising in his throat.

"I'm a goner," he wailed. "Goner, goner."

He flung himself up the stairs, delirium flooding him. "Goner, goner." He reached the roof, and the cold air stung his fresh cuts. "Somebody catch my breath," he mumbled, his voice fogging the air.

He let out a scream, not sure if it was words or not. His throat burned as the noise trailed off, and he reached the edge.

With a single step, and no hesitation, he fell forward, into the sound. His stomach soared into his throat as he fell, and the world turned black.

He opened his eyes laying on hard pavement, the cold, pale moon above the only light. Sirens echoed through the empty night.

He heard rushed footsteps, then a familiar head of blue hair hurried into his foggy vision.

"Tyler," Josh sobbed, tears rushing down his pink cheeks. "Tyler, Tyler no." He crouched next to him and pulled the brunette's head into his lap, leaning over him and putting a shakey kiss on his soft hair. "Tyler, please."

"Don't--" Tyler coughed, his lips very wet. His mouth tasted like metal. "Don't let me be gone," he whispered quickly, with the little breath he had. With every rise and fall of his chest more pain spread through his body. A shaky sob escaped him as the fear and agony flooded his senses. Desperation crept into his voice. "Don't let me be gone."

"I won't," Josh cried, tears dripping off his face. "I won't, I promise. This is all my fault."

"I'm a goner," Tyler said, looking into Josh's eyes, trying to tell him what he could not say. "Goner."

Josh's chocolate eyes were the last thing he saw as the darkness crept into his vision, and the feeling faded from his body.

"Goner."