I just, for the first time, watched the Ghost Of You video and I am in hysterics. I am laughing and crying and convulsing and I'm not okay, I promise. What the fuck is going on?
HOLY SATAN I WATCHED THE STATE FARM THING WITH BRENDON AND IM ASDFGHJKL IM CRYING WAT THE HAELLL IS EVEN IM CANT EVEN TYUIOPIJN ASDFGHJKLASDFGHJKL
TW: Derogatory terms for gay people, abuse, bullying, rape
"FAG!"
"Cocksucker..."
Tyler walked the school, head lowered. One time. It was one time, one time that he got caught kissing a boy in the bathrooms. Tyler sighed and pulled his long sleeves over his fingers nervously as he walked down the halls trying not to be noticed.
"Hoeseph! Come here, buddy!"
A pained sigh left Tyler as he turned around to see the one and only... Brendon Urie! Yippee, what a great morning this was going to be. The boy with his abnormally sized forehead walked over three others behind him, Frank Iero and the Way brothers.
"What do you want Brendon?"
"Oh, you know, the usual."
"Lunch money and to try and beat the non-existent gay out of me. Sorry, we ran out those. Can I get you something else?"
Anger rose on Brendon's face and Tyler immediately regretted speaking. Shoot, shoot, shoot.
"S-sorry. I-I didn't m-mean th-that."
"Back at it again with the stutter, are we? Stuttering cocksucking fag!" Pain filled Tyler's back as he was pushed into the locker behind him, the handle digging into his spine. Brendon's fist connected with Tyler's face and he fell to the ground with a cry of pain. A few kicks to the stomach followed suit and Tyler whimpered on the ground. "Get up fag." Brendon kicked his stomach again and Tyler hissed in pain. Nonetheless, he got up, holding his side in pain. Grabbing his jaw Brendon shoved his head against the locker. "When I let you go you're going to give me the money. Then maybe I'll leave you alone after school." The grip on Tyler's face was soon released and Tyler stared at Brendon with wide, doe eyes. "Money." Nodding Tyler fumbled with his backpack trying to get the money knowing what Brendon would use it for. Weed. It was kind of hard not to know considering that every time he showed up at school he had bloodshot eyes and his backpack reeked of weed. Yet, somehow, the teachers never noticed. Probably because he was screwing Mr. Ross who moved from middle school to high school the year Brendon graduated. Technically no one knew Brendon was with Mr. Ross but rumors traveled the school, always denied by both of them. Tyler handed Brendon the money and the boy left leaving Tyler leaning against the lockers trying to catch his breath.
"Tyler!"
A tall boy walked up to him, face pale as ever. The two had been friends since the day they met, which was also the day his dad died. Tyler knew it was his fault. If he hadn't been so lazy and just walked his dad would have left later, the two cars probably would have never even seen each other. I could have just walked. He'd still be alive. My siblings wouldn't look so broken, they wouldn't be staying with friends all the time because their mom hit them. They would be normal, I would be normal. But they are Tyler. It's all your fault. Your mom hates you Tyler, so do your siblings. Your whole family.
"Shut up!" The hallway went silent all turning to look at Tyler who was rubbing his temples and rocking back and forth on his feet. Hushed whispers ran up and down the hall.
"It's that Joseph kid."
"The fag can't even tell what's real."
"Is he ok?"
"He's insane."
The judging glares and stares didn't help him to calm down, not one bit. They're right. You are insane. You. Are. Hopeless. Pushing past his best friend Tyler ran to the bathroom, feeling sick. Tyler ran into the bathroom and slammed a stall door open. Too slow. Puke projected from his mouth and onto the floor, toilet, and toilet seat. Choked sobs left his mouth and he slid down the wall of the cubicle, defeated. His world was fragile and things like this ripped it apart, like a straw house in a tornado. He didn't even care he was sitting in his own puke, it barely qualified as that, it was mostly just stomach acid, water, and a few chunks of whatever he ate last, which wasn't much.
Realizing what he was doing and sitting in Tyler let out a small laugh.
"Ty?"
"I don't want to talk, Dallon."
"Too bad."
The stall door opened to reveal a giraffe.
"Fricken giraffe."
"I am not a giraffe."
"That's not what your height says."
Annoyance crossed Dallons face but he helped Tyler up anyways. Tyler's bum was soaked in his puke and Dallon shook his head in disgust. "Take your pants off."
Hands grabbed at his sides pushing him down onto the counter, "Take your pants off."
"Leave me alone!"
"Take your pants off or I'll rip them off."
His trembling hands slowly slid off his pants leaving him in a shirt and boxers.
"Shirt next."
He pulled off his shirt hands shaking even more than before, tears now starting to roll down his cheeks. "Please don't."
"I'll do whatever I want."
Clammy hands grabbed the tops of his boxers and ripped them down, leaving him naked. The hands then grabbed his hips and lifted him onto the counter. The cold, damp hands then wrapped around his dick and pumped a couple times. "Please Mom," his voice cracked, "Stop."
"No. I'm gonna fuck you and you're gonna like it."
His mother climbed on top of him and sat down onto him. At that moment, Tyler lost all care. His body went still and his eyes dead. Time seemed irrelevant as his mom if you could call her that, rocked back and forth on him.
Tyler didn't know how long it was but his mom eventually got up and left him on the ground of the bathroom sobbing lightly.
"Tyler!" Cold hands were shaking his shoulders as he came back to reality. Tyler's vision was slowly starting to clear and he could see Dallon crouching over him with a red handprint on his cheek. "Oh, God. Did I hit you? Are you okay? What happened?"
"I should be asking you that. You started crying and saying stop and you mentioned your mom then you hit me and then fell to the floor where you just kinda went dead and cried."
"Oh. Sorry. Just... stuff."
"Tyler. Tell me."
"Just something my mom did."
Dallon paused for a moment, thinking.
"Don't tell me she..."
"Yeah."
"How old?"
"Thirteen."
"Tyler why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know. I just didn't want to. I had it under control until you said what she said so don't even act like you care!" Tyler shoved Dallon back and ran out of the bathroom and to the back of the school. The cold metal felt good in his hands as he pulled a razor from his bag. He popped the blades from the plastic and rolled up his sleeve. Red lines formed across his tan skin as he dragged the silver across his arm. Tyler threw the razor to the side and slid down the wall, crying.
