A world in which people who have mental illnesses are separated by the government from people without mental illnesses.
There are so many versions of Tyler. Which one is the real him? Has he even met the real him yet? Everyday he shakes hands with a new person, a person who pretends to be okay, a person who is embodying someone else, a person who wants to see him fall. Which person was the real Tyler. He goes to his wardrobe everyday, choosing a new personality, a new facial expression and a new identity. His eyebrows are furrowed, his bony fingers reaching out into his drawer full of masks, which one shall he wear today, a smile perhaps? Tyler nods to himself, placing the mask over his face, letting it attach to his skin. Beneath the mask, he's frowning. The brunette puts his socks on, they're black just like everything else; he wonders what colours look like, how does yellow taste and how does pink feel in your palms? And what is it like to feel the sun burn into your back? The moon can be so unsettling, supplying no warmth into the pores of the people underneath it. Can trees truly speak to you as you walk past them, can flowers sing lullabies to you? Do the stars know your name? Tyler sighs, sliding on his grey shirt, black jeans, black jumper and black shoes and walking out the door. The rain hits the cement, black, crying clouds surround the moon, cradling it, fuelling its negative energy, telling it to slowly kill the people beneath it who so desperately need a taste of golden warmth.
Tyler whimpers, running to the white car parked in the driveway. Large, black spiders crawl out of his mouth, blood pouring out of his eyes. He's sobbing, crying but his mask makes sure a smile stays on his face, forcing him to be happy. Tyler drives along the gravelled road, headed to the office. Everyday, every single day, he sits at a desk accompanied by a dead house plant, typing away at his computer. He'll get something to eat, work, go home, eat and then sleep. Oh gosh, sleep. Sleeping is the only thing he delights in. You aren't dead but you're still alive.
The brunette bites his lip, parking into the car park. Again, he would carry on with his meaningless tasks, longing for a life of purpose.
—
The yellow is overbearing, making Josh's eyes water. The sun is hot on his bare back, flowers bloom in his lungs, taking over his organs. He holds Tyler's hand, gripping it tightly, scared to let go. They're lying on the grass together, it's green, long and it flourishes around Josh. It's the opposite for Tyler, brown and dead.
"I wish I could see the world like you do. What's orange like?"
Josh smiles without a mask, it's genuine and Tyler wishes he could have something so authentic on his own face.
"It's a pretty colour. A lot of people don't like it, but I do. It feels like nostalgia to me, like happy memories of when I was a kid. You know?"
Tyler shakes his head, not knowing the feeling.
"Oh. Well, it's like a distant feeling that you used to have but can't really get back anymore. But you're happy when you think of the feeling."
The pale brunette nods. He wishes he could understand. Josh grins, holding Tyler to his chest.
"What's black like? I've never seen it."
Tyler shakes his head; he doesn't want Josh to know what it's like.
"Please tell me? Please?"
The younger man groans, "Firstly, Joshua, you don't just see it, you experience it. It's the worst feeling in the world. It's like a thousand tiny spiders have crawled into your brain through your ears. It's a man with a distorted face and a deep, booming voice whispering into your ear, telling you horrible things. You'll start to believe what he's saying, and then this black will surround you. A needle of it is pricked into your veins, filling your entire bloodstream with it. You'll start to feel yourself fall."
Josh swallows, nodding slowly, "O-Okay."
The yellow-haired man takes his lover into his arms, hugging him tightly, scared he'll slip away.
"I should go now, before they catch us." Tyler whispers, placing a gentle kiss to Josh's soft lips. A scintilla of love flows within Tyler's brain, making him gasp at the sweet feeling. Josh smiles, "Come back soon, Ty-baby."
Tyler sighs, wishing to stay with Joshua, but the government would be able to catch him through the activity of his brain. Whenever he's on the happy side he feels flickers of hope and joy, things he can't feel on the numb side, they'd know he's here sooner or later because of the beautiful boy that he loves, sending him into tiny smiles and flashes of happiness. Tyler begins to walk away back to his side. Josh's side is still black and dark to him, because his brain is telling him it is. Tyler's side looks normal and joyful in Josh's eyes.
—
A cup of coffee is sitting on his desk, it's already getting cold. The moonlight shines through the windows, casting shadows on Tyler's face. Spirits fly around the room with sharp teeth and long fingernails. They're sickly looking, making Tyler want to throw up. His palms sweat, heart stopping as one of them approaches him. It whispers into his ear, bony hands grabbing his throat and squeezing harshly. Tyler whimpers, choking on a sob and kicking his legs around as the deathly spirit claws at his face, tearing his flesh.
He bleeds onto the papers on his desk, capturing the attention of the other workers. The spirits are sent by the government, they want the people on the numb side to drown in their sorrows, they don't want them to recover. They want to keep the happy people in one place, catering to their needs, helping them thrive and live a life in joy.
"L-Let me g-go." Tyler whines, tears staining his cheeks. The spirit chuckles lowly in Tyler's ears, making them ring. Save him.
