GONER

2 • The Art Of Cutting Ties

Honestly, as much as I sometimes didn't like it here, there was no way I could just pack up everything and move back to Columbus right on the spot. Sure, I had no friends, no life, no anything, really, but I still had to give my last round of pathetic goodbyes no one would listen to. There was absolutely no way to leave without cutting the ties that bound me in here in the loosest, weakest way.

So, because of that, I was walking to the local park that very little actually managed to visit. A lot of people just thought it was ugly and outdated, but if there was one thing I've learned, it's that I'm no where near most people. Regarding anything. Even my views and hobbies were different. But it's not something I can help. Which is probably why most people didn't like me all that much.

With a green umbrella shadowing over my already damp body, I walked through the wet air. Everything was moist, but at the same time, it wasn't. The grass here was permanetly wet, and so was all of the concrete, and so there wasn't much use for a park, or reserving any annoyance for the squishiness of everything. Sometimes, being aggravated at things that won't change is pointless. Yet we do it anyway.

My brown eyes scanned everything, watching cars roll by and praying that none of them would run into puddles along the side of the road. They usually did it anyway, seeing as people in this world were cruel and heartless for no reason. But it wasn't ever a surpise. Just unpleasant.

My empty hand was in the pocket of my baggy sweatshirt, and I let the warm fabric caress my skin. It felt so good, which is part of the reason that I wear it. Another reason is that I have a lot to hide, and limited skin exposure seems the best way to keep it hidden.

So, with everything running through my brain, I walked into the actual park. Mulch and sand was being smashed under my feet as I walked over to the swings, sitting down on the soaked material. Cold flushed my backside all over again, and I sighed, rolling my eyes.

To me, it was actually kind of gorgeous. It was dark and gloomy and sad, which has always kind of been my thing. I wanted to sit here and soak in the small and pitiful view I've seen so many times, but I knew we had to leave soon. It's six in the morning at the moment and the only reason I was up this early is because I always had trouble sleeping. It actually started when I was little, but it's just intensified and worsened now.

At eight, my mom wanted us to be out of here. But looking around, I realized how much I actually didn't want to go. Having to start all over from the bottom once again seemed like a horrible idea. I would have to make new friends, not that I would leave this place with any old ones, find my way around town all over again, and redecorate my room. Which is unfortunate because I have posters and things everywhere.

Slowly, I moved my dainty feet back and forth. I created little actual motion, and instead focused on kicking the dirt under me. My feet were wet and I knew it would be unbearably uncomfortable to walk back with. Wet socks were the absolute worse. So, with that, I took my shoes off right then and there, before stuffing them into the bag strapped to my feeble back. They were dripping, but, like anything else, it didn't matter too much.

Just then, my phone rang obnoxiously, shattering the calm silence. The rain was penetrated by the noise, and I sighed, before answering it and raising the device to my ear, a few water droplets on the screen.

"Hello?" I asked sadly, but she didn't notice. Truthfully, she never did. What's the point in hiding when no one knows when you're exposed?

"I suggest you get back here in about thirty minutes," she replied immediately, making me sigh and roll my eyes. Almost automatically, I gave her a short hum that signified that I heard her, before standing up and getting on to my bare feet. I didn't plan on going home yet, because I still had two more places to visit.

Because it was Saturday, I knew it would be emtpy, except for the staff that had no life. And, besides. I just needed a minute. It wasn't even inside the actual building because, if I'm being honest, nothing of importance ever took place inside of it. Well, at least not to me. Attending the worst high school in this town didn't really help anything, either.

The skin of my light feet moved against the concrete, and it took zero time before the building came into view. I knew exactly where I wanted to go, and so I made my way around the back of the school, the wet grass seeping in between my toes. Scrunching my face up, I walked on towards the bleachers used for sports events. Soon enough, I was on the football field that no one really used, considering it was always pouring. The lines they had spray painted the grass with were faded and almost gone, because that's what water did to things. It washed them.

Deciding there was no use for an umbrella, I sat down on the ground, setting the protection beside me, giving everything full access to my body. It didn't matter, though. What I was planning didn't require any dryness.

So, with my plan in mind, I pulled the pocket knife I had out of my pocket, before taking the first large rock I saw and started carving in it. It was kind of difficult making what I was writing noticeable, but in the end, you could clearly see it was there.

Tyler Joseph, a nobody everywhere, was situated perfectly inside of the rock, a permanet mark reminding everyone of my insignificance.

Next, I grabbed a few blades of grass in my small hands. I used to make flower crowns for my neighbors daughter all the time, and so I remembered how to manipulate it. Braiding the pieces together, I set it under the rock, as if I was asking people to look at it. And in a way, I kind of was.

Acknowledge me. At least once.

***

A/N: Hi :))