drown.

cøbwebs and flies cøme øut ↠ chapter iii

a/n: 25 reads!! okay so its very possible that 24 of them are my own but whatever. either way, thank youuu!

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//n

the boy leaned against the passenger seat window, hit by waves of both numbness and anxiety. josh drove, looking over every so often to check on him. a warm nighttime rain had just started to scatter the fireflies and streamed down the car's windows. a sort of comforting silence was interrupted by a phone ringing.

//t

i took out my phone to look at the caller id and sighed.

"who is it?" josh asked simply.

"my mom," i almost whispered. there wasn't really a way to get out of this, i suppose; the brave thing to do would be to answer, right? but no, i decided to postpone it. i locked the phone screen and turned away from the water-streaked window to look at josh instead.

"i'm really sorry for bothering y--"

"no, dude, it's okay," josh answered. "can you tell me one thing though?"

i nodded, and then realized he couldn't hear a nod, so i followed up with "y-yes."

"what's your name?"

"tyler. tyler joseph." and for some reason, i could sense josh's breathing stop for just a moment.

//j

tyler. joseph.

so that's how he knew my name, and that's why i recognized him ...

he was the kid in 7th grade who my friends and i made fun of because he was awkward and dressed in florals. 'look at the fag,' we'd say. before that year, he'd made small attempts to talk to me, but afterwards, he reverted to all-black hoodies. became the "emo" boy of the school who everyone ignored.

my friend brendon had peeked into one of tyler's journals in the minutes before biology class started. we laughed about the words he'd found in there: i put my socks on my feet, just so that my soul won't fall through my toes ...

and now that i think about it, damn, those were some nice words.

this was four years later, and i was going to make up for not being the best of sons.

"j-josh?"

"..."

"josh?" tyler said, confusedly.

"y-yeah. yeah?"

"you okay?"

"i should be asking you that," i said, biting my lip. i heard a faint giggle. dark humor never fails, i suppose. we turned onto my street.

"your street's -- still the same street?" he rambled uncomfortably.

"huh? yes?"

"still this street. still street," he said, smiling at no one in particular.