Searching for Purpose (Twenty One Pilots)

2. Worry Lines and Childhood Rhymes

It was dark when Tyler reached the halfway point between his house and future college. He strained his eyes to look at the signs on the side of the hallway, trying to find a place to stop and rest. Tyler knew he wouldn’t sleep. He hardly ever did anymore. Being awake was a lot easier to deal with.

Eventually he saw a sign for a small inn and pulled off of the highway. Tyler found himself driving down the dimly lit main road for some small town. From what he could see, the town looked cozy and welcoming. He was almost tempted to pull over and walk into the real estate office he spotted, but he didn’t. Instead he continued to drive to the end of the road, ending up in front of a quaint looking inn.

Once parked, Tyler turned off the music that had been playing and grabbed an extra pair of clothes, shoving them into his backpack along with his phone and wallet. He hesitantly walked the short distance from his car to the entrance of the inn, looking over his shoulder every other step. It wasn’t that he was scared of the people that lived in the small town, but the fact that he was scared of what lived in the darkness that made him almost run up to the front desk.

“Hello! Welcome to the Forest Inn! My name is Amanda,” the lady behind the desk said. The loud and chirpy voice was out of place in the quiet and old fashioned inn. “How can I help you?

“Oh, uh,” Tyler mumbled. His brain was practically mush from driving all day and he hadn’t said a word since he’d said goodbye to his family. It was weird for him to hear his voice. “I need a room for tonight.”

“Of course! Just you? Or is anyone else going to be joining you?”

“Just me,” he answered.

“Alrighty then,” Amanda smiled. It seemed forced. She handed him a piece of paper and a pen, which Tyler signed without really paying much attention to it. He could have just sold his soul without realizing it. “Room 5, second floor, last one on the left. There’s breakfast available starting at eight and check out is at noon. Sleep well!”

Tyler smiled at her and took the key she was holding. Amanda was older than Tyler, maybe around 35, and had blond hair. There were wrinkles on her face, and Tyler knew they weren't from smiling. They looked similar to the lines he was noticing on his own face. Lines from worry and stress. But, then again, Tyler was probably looking for things he wanted to see, such as signs that he wasn’t alone.

He climbed the stairs and made his way down the hall. Behind one door he could hear a man’s voice talking in rhymes, the pitch of his voice rising and falling as he spoke each line. Giggles erupted when the man finished speaking and Tyler smiled to himself. His parents used to read him bed time stories. It used to be his favorite thing about going to bed.

Behind another door Tyler could hear steady thump against the wall. He paused for a second, confused as to what it could be, but then he heard a moan. He almost ran to the end of the hall, thanking the universe that his room was not next to theirs.

When he opened the door to his room, Tyler stopped for a second and looked around. The room was somewhat small, but Tyler didn’t really mind. The walls were covered in flower patterned wall paper, matching the bed spread almost exactly. It was cute in Tyler’s opinion. Like something his grandmother would have chosen.

He dropped his backpack onto the chair in the corner of the room and pulled out his phone, immediately dialing his mother’s number.

“Tyler! My baby! How are you? Are you doing okay? Where are you? Have you had dinner yet?” his mother asked worriedly as soon as she picked up the phone. Tyler smiled and laughed slightly. He loved his mother, he really did, but sometimes she could be a bit much.

“I’m fine, Mom. Just got to a hotel, and yes, I have had dinner,” Tyler said. He lied about the last part. He hadn’t eaten since that morning when his brother had made breakfast for the family, but his mom didn’t need to know that. She worried enough about him as it was. Plus, he hadn’t been very hungry lately.

“Good, good,” his mother replied. “I worry about you.”

“I know, Mom. But really, I’m fine.” Again, he lied. He wasn’t fine and he knew it. That’s why he had packed up and left as soon as he could. He had hoped that maybe somewhere, out in some different place he had never been to, he could find his purpose, because right now, he didn’t think he had one.

“Okay, sweetie. If you say so,” his mother said. They talked for a little while longer, or really, Tyler listened as his mother filled him in on everything that was happening around the house. Everything was the same as he had left it apparently, but his mom felt the need to tell him all of that. Tyler didn’t mind really, he knew she needed to say it.

“Hey, Mom, I should go. Check out is early tomorrow,” another lied, “and I want to get back on the road as soon as I can. I’ll call you when I get to college, okay?”

“Okay. I love you. Sleep well, Tyler.”

“I love you, too, Mom.” He really did.

Tyler fell back onto the bed and rubbed his hands over his face. He was beyond tired and felt kind of gross. Like all of the dirt and grime on the road had accumulated on his skin.

He wandered into the bathroom next to the door to his room and turned on the shower. He stripped off his clothes and stared at his reflection while he waited for the water to warm up.

“You’re stupid, Tyler,” he said to himself as he stepped under the spray of water. “There’s nothing out here for you. You have no purpose.”

The water had felt amazing as it fell on his skin, but the towel that he had wrapped around himself felt even better. It was one of those fluffy kind they always have at hotels. Tyler loved those.

When he was almost completely dried off, he pulled on a pair of sweat pants and an old shirt. He retrieved his laptop and an energy drink from his bag and opened up a new word document. He sipped on his drink idly as his fingers flew across the keyboard, capturing the thoughts that had been swarming around his head all day. He probably shouldn’t have had an energy drink and should put the laptop away and try to get some shut eye, but that’s not how Tyler worked. He didn’t sleep. He couldn’t sleep.

Whenever he tried, the sweet spell of unconsciousness never came fast enough and he became wrapped up in his own thoughts, much like what would happen in the silence of his car. It was terrifying, and when sleep would come, he’d wake up a few hours later to a nightmare so absolutely horrendous and like-like that it would haunt him for weeks. He much preferred falling asleep from pure exhaustion at some odd hour in the morning in front of his computer. It wasn’t exactly healthy, but it was better.