anathema. { joshler }
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"who the fuck are you?" tyler seethed, his breath heavy and his eyes closed.
the other person chuckled and graced him with an answer. "no matter how many times you ask me that question, you won't get a different answer sweetheart."
"the author, the author, you've told me a million times!" tyler screamed, pulling at his hair. "why am i here? let me go!" he rammed his head at the bars of his cage until he could feel blood trickle down his face.
"you're just hurting yourself babyboy. now if you would quiet down, I'd be happy to explain myself."
tyler grimaced and sat on the cold metal ground. "don't call me babyboy." he humphed but succumbed to silence.
"thank you. i'm the author, they call me josh. and you see, you are my most precious creation. let me show you."
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• When my heart rate was nearly back to normal and I could breathe a bit better, I finally looked at the man next to me. He had washed all of the stage makeup off and his breath smelled like puke. He had dark purple bags under his eyes and fresh tear stains covering his cheeks. "Tyler," I whispered. "Shh, it's okay. I'm okay. You're okay. Everything's okay," he tried to reassure me. "Why did you do this to yourself?" • TRIGGER WARNING: This story contains talk of anxiety, depression, self harm, suicide, and eating disorders. Mild language is also used. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Copyright © 2015 All Rights Reserved - desolateheart
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