a change of heart

draft 6

"What's your favorite color?"
The boy with buzzed hair glanced at me before biting his nails, seeming to be in deep thought.
"I guess it'd have to be, like -"
A scarlet red crept up his cheeks as he played with the hem of his sleeve. "Do you know those flowers - Forget Me Not's?"
I nodded, knowing exactly what he was talking about. "Oh, of course, I do. They're pretty,"
He pulled down her sleeve, even though it was already stretched, to reach out for the box of markers set in the middle of the circular table.
"I can draw them for you if you'd like," he suggested - his tone was hushed but somehow still audible.
"I'd love that."
His tan hands moved quickly across the piece of paper that Mr. Weekes handed over to us about ten minutes ago, using a mixture of blue and purple colors. I saw it; line after line, shape after shape - was he an artist?
Suddenly, he spoke up. "Yours?"
I blinked at him, tilting my head to the side in a questionable manner.
"What do you mean?"
The boy with the soft, creamy skin giggled, throwing his head back as he squinted his eyes. He quickly covered his mouth, but his nasolabial folds were still visible.
"What's your favorite color, silly,"
My eyes widened and I abruptly stood up.
"Of course that's what you meant!"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Weeks glaring at me from behind his desk. I had forgotten where I was. I sat back down on the uncomfortable chair, leaning back to see that the bot with brilliantly wide, hazel brown eyes was watching me.
"You are so silly, Josh."
I rolled my eyes before peeking down at his drawing.
"Are you done yet?"
"Are you going to answer me?"
I let out an irritated groan, not realizing how childish I sounded.
"It's green,"
His eyes sparkled.
"Green?"
Again, I tried to see the drawing that was glowing under the yellow light.
"Yes, green,"
He quickly caught what I was doing and covered his drawing with his arms, scooting his chair closer to mine.
"Any type of green or just green?"
I smiled knowingly, "Just green. Now, Tyler, show me your drawing!"
He beamed brightly, "Such a silly boy,"
The boy next to me removed his arms from atop of the paper. A soft gasp flew past my lips as I examined the drawing. What a beautiful flower...
"When did you learn how to draw?"
A light frown tugged at his lips,
"My grandmother used to teach me when I was younger,"
Once again, I tilted my head.
"Used to? What happened?"
This time, the frown that fell upon his lips were completely visible and noted.
"She - She committed suicide a couple years ago,"
My mouth slacked and my eyes burned from tears that threatened to spill. "Suicide?"
"Yea, suicide."
"Is that why you're..."
Tyler tugged at his sleeves again and shrugged.
My glance fell towards his arm, a dark splotch of red was soaking through his black sleeve.
As soon as I opened my mouth to ask if he was ok, his counselor quietly came out from one of the empty rooms down the hall.
"Tyler, it's time."
The man, Mr. Way, smiled sadly at me before sauntering over towards the boy with buzzed hair.
"See you around, alien boy," He rushed out before collecting his things and leaving to where the counselor took him.
Almost immediately, I noticed that he had left the drawing he drew just a few minutes ago.
"Tyler!"
He had already disappeared.
Without much thought to it, I stood up, grabbing the paper in my hand before racing down the hall.
"Joshua!" A voice called out from behind.
I turned around, looking up to see an infuriated Mr. Weekes.
"What do you think you are doing? Go sit back down." I was conflicted but decided to remain obedient. I'd just give it to him right before he leaves.
I sat back down at the circular table, smoothing out the crumpled piece of paper in my hand.
"I hope he won't mind," I said to myself, worried that when we met again, he'd be fuming with anger.
But somehow, I knew that he wouldn't do that. He was kind and smart, not vicious and rude. He was understanding and not quick to act.
Tyler Joseph was everything I failed to be.
Time stood still as the tension in the room thickened. For what reason, I did not know, but it became too eerie to handle.
"Mr. Weekes, when will Tyler's session end?"
As he opened her mouth to speak, the phone at his desk, rung.
I scrunched up my eyebrows, feeling unimportant as he quickly went to answer the phone.
Something must've happened.
Mr. Weekes tugged at his silky, dark brown hair, wiping his forehead as glands of noticeable sweat dripped down. He kept nodding his head, just like I would, before settling down the phone.
Eventually, he began to pace back and forth as if he was waiting for another call. And when it did ring, he instantly answered - like he always did.
I sat on the edge of my seat, watching intensely as he let out a sigh. What happened? Who called? Was it the men from before?
"Mr. Weekes?"
The front doors of the building were thrown open, men in weird, baggy suits came rushing inside with a black and yellow colored stretcher.
I understood what this meant.
My glance fell upon the wrinkled paper laid out on the table, a small scribble with the letters T.R.J written on it, and tiny droplets of tears came splashing onto the beautiful drawing.
Soon enough, the men returned from the hallways but only this time, a boy with a slightly paler version of his beautiful creamy skin was occupying the stretcher.
Tyler Joseph was rushed to the emergency room for attempting suicide.
I slumped back in my chair, watching Mr. Weekes shake his head.
"Why would Tyler do that?"
Mr. Weekes shrugged his shoulders, stretching his fingers before fixing his hair.
"Some people get sad and when they are sad, everything starts to pile up and feel as though it is too much."
"Then why would anyone bother being sad - can't we all just be happy?"
"If only life was that simple, Josh."
I frowned. "It can be simple. I think humans just over complicate things when really, they don't need to be."
Mr. Weekes sighed,
"Here he comes,"
My face lightened up, tucking the piece of paper in my pocket, where all the other drawings were kept in.
Someone stepped passed the double doors and went straight to Mr. Weekes' desk, signing in.
     After a couple minutes of incoherent whispering, the boy with buzzed hair was pointed into the direction of the circular table.
"Hello!" I exclaimed as the small boy came closer.
"Hi, I'm Tyler," He took a seat next to mine.
"Hey, Tyler! My name's Josh."
He smiled like he always did.
"I feel like I know you from somewhere - I just can't put my finger on it,"
I looked over to Mr. Weekes who was staring back at me.
"I'm sure I would've remembered you if we ever did meet before,"
"Are you sure we never met?"
I nodded, "I'm positive."
"Oh, okay,"
From the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Weekes nodding his head in approval.
"What's your favorite color?"
The boy with buzzed hair glanced at me before biting his nails, seeming to be in deep thought.
"I guess it'd have to be, like -"
A scarlet red crept up his cheeks as he played with the hem of his sleeve. "Do you know those flowers - Forget Me Not's?"
I let out a small, sad smile.
"Of course I do."