Anathema

fifteen - i created this world

Tyler opened the door slowly and tried to sneak in as quietly as he could. The sun had just set below the horizon, and there had been just enough daylight left to walk home without being too afraid. Now he was worried about what his mother would do.

Sure enough, Tyler heard her catch her breath and stand up fast enough to nearly knock the chair over. The muffled voices in the kitchen went silent, and for a brief moment, there was silence except for the ticking of the clock in the hall. Then his mother ran down the hall, her cheeks flushed and her eyes puffy and red.

"Tyler! Tyler, where have you been?" She tried to grab him in a hug, but he ducked and pressed himself against the door, and she frowned. "Honey, where were you? We looked all over for you. At first I thought you'd just walked to basketball but then you never came home, so I called a couple boys and they said you weren't at practice, and with you acting so strange and talking about those imaginary boys all the time, I was so worried -"

"I'm fine, Mom," he said, wishing she would back up and let him go upstairs. He couldn't want her to smell the forest or the musty air from the treehouse.

"Come on," Clancy whispered, shifting his weight from foot to foot on the top of the stairs.

"Hold still or I'll push you down the stairs," Nico grumbled.

"You can't just run off like that," his mother said, gently resting her hands on his shoulders. "You scared me. Where were you?"

"Just around," he said, shrugging and avoiding her eyes. He couldn't tell her about the forest. She would completely lose her mind.

"Tyler, we looked everywhere for you," she said, and he heard her voice crack and saw the glisten of tears on her face. "We called everyone we knew. I was just about to call the police. I thought..." She paused and swallowed hard. "I don't know what I thought. I thought you'd been kidnapped. I thought you'd run away. I thought...I thought..."

"I'm fine," he said.

She suddenly grabbed him in a hug, holding him tight against her heart. Instantly, he went completely rigid. He could feel her shaking as she held him, and realized that she was crying.

"I'm okay, Momma," he whispered. "Promise."

"How was I supposed to know that, Tyler?" she demanded. She sounded like she wanted to be angry and scold him, but she couldn't bring herself to raise her voice. Like a thunderstorm at three in the afternoon. "Please, Tyler, baby, I want to trust you, but you can't run off like that. I don't want to make you stay home all day, but if you run off at every second you get, I might have to. You have to tell me where you're going and when you'll be back. What were you doing?"

"Nothing," he said in a very unconvincing manner.

"Please tell me."

"I was just walking around," he said, pulling away from her embrace and balancing on one foot.

"For five hours?" his father demanded from the hallway. "Honestly, Tyler, this has to stop."

"Sorry," he said, hoping that if he apologized, they'd let him go upstairs.

"You have to tell me where you're going and what you're doing, okay?" His mother looked right at him, but he kept his eyes on the floor.

"Okay," he said.

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, and then sniffed and tried to rub her eyes without smearing her makeup. "Alright. Okay. No use crying over it now. You're home and you're safe. Are you hungry?"

"No," he said.

"Will you come eat dinner with us anyway?"

"No," he repeated.

"Why not?"

"I'm tired."

His parents exchanged a glance. It looked as though his father was going to scold him and force him to eat with them, but his mother just nodded and answered before he could say anything. "Alright. Heading to bed?"

"Yes." It was seven o'clock.

"Alright. Goodnight. I love you." She smiled, but it was sad and strained, and he didn't bother returning it.

"Love you," he echoed blankly.

...

"I can't stand them!" he shouted into his pillow. "I can't stand the way she looks at me every time I come in and I can't stand them treating me like a baby or like some special freak who needs to be watched all the time! I want them to leave me alone!"

"They're only trying to be good parents," Clancy said softly. "You're lucky to -"

"I'm so lucky," he growled. "So freaking lucky and I hate it!" He stood up and threw his pillow across the room as hard as he could. It didn't satisfy anything, so he threw his notebook, too, and nearly took the blinds off of the window. "I know they're doing their best and I know I'm lucky and that's why I feel so full of sickening guilt every time I'm mad at them." He sat down on the side of his bed with a sigh and buried his face in his hands. "I just wish I could talk to them like a normal person. I just...they don't understand what I'm saying when I try. The words just come out all jumbled and confused so I have to keep it so simple they think I'm stupid." He flopped down on the covers and stared at the ceiling, the burst of anger gone as suddenly as it had come. Now it seemed like he had anger issues on top of everything else. Perfect. 

"I don't think you're stupid," Clancy said.

Tyler let out a single sarcastic laugh. "I know, that's what you're supposed to think. I made you up, remember? You're not real."

"I'm real to you, aren't I?"

"What if nothing's real at all?" he asked the ceiling, a sort of cold numbness settling into his heart. He felt something heavy and invisible sink down onto his chest, sending shivers through his entire body.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what if everything's just made up? What if I'm actually in a coma or locked in an insane asylum somewhere, stuck in this elaborate..."

"World," Clancy suggested. "Dream? Fantasy?"

"Paracosm," Tyler said. "Stuck in this elaborate paracosm."

"Then nothing really matters and you're insignificant and life is completely meaningless," Nico said, shrugging. "Simple."

"But if I created this world," Tyler said slowly, "then I'm its God, aren't I? I could destroy everything in a single thought. I'm not insignificant. I'm the most important person in the universe."

"Then you admit it," Nico said.

"Admit what?"

"You admit that you made up Josh. That he's not real."

Tyler paused, that invisible force squeezing his heart until he thought it might rupture. "That's not what I said."

Nico shrugged again. "Alright, your All-powerful-ness. But don't come crying to me when you finally figure it out."

"If you made all this up, then you can change your parents," Clancy said suddenly, very excited.

"Maybe," Tyler said, staring back up at the ceiling as he went back to feeling miserable. Deep down, he thought he was sure this was all real. But nothing explained Clancy and Nico. He rolled onto his side to face the wall and curled up, closing his eyes and wishing for sleep. Instead, all he could see was the wet eyes and sad smiles of his father and mother.

I want to talk to them. I want to tell them exactly how I feel but I know they won't understand what frothy egg whites and jagged cliff edges feel like. They won't understand when I tell them Josh makes me feel like bumblebees and that his smile is a white Christmas and July sunshine all in one. They'll ask questions I can't answer. They'll never listen. They can't. They don't know how.

He finally drifted off wishing he still felt like the most important person in the universe.