Love Me Back

one

(TRIGGER WARNING: mention of self harm)

Joshua Dun was the definition of perfect. His deep brown, loving eyes could melt anyone's heart. His strong, god-like arms could caress me for years, and I wouldn't ever want to let go. I was nothing compared to him. But to be fair, nothing could compare to him.

||-//

Therapy just wasn't my thing. How could people just talk to someone who didn't care. It's all for money. But that's how life has become. What would I even talk about? If I did open up, I'd be sent to a psych ward. So I just wasted the 55 minutes with silence. Sometimes silence is violent. My therapist was a 45 year old man, I'm guessing. He had dark brown hair which was starting to grey, and cold, black, soulless eyes. He always wore bland clothes, bland colors like grey, or if he was feeling risky, light blue. His personality was no different. Monotone words which could bore anyone to insanity, expressionless sentences, no emotion. He was almost like a robot, except he had one difference: he yelled. That's right, how could someone whom I described so cold and bland yell? To answer your question, I have no idea.

The smallest things would set him off, like me being 3 minutes late to the session because of a slow driver. Even something as small as me not looking into his black eyes for a couple of minutes. Boom. He would explode. Now, I know what you're thinking: why wouldn't I tell my mom? He had threatened me. He needed that money, he needed that job. So I had stayed quiet. Little did I know I should have spoken up on the first sign of abuse.

||-//

"Tyler! Time to wake up! You're late for school!"

Sh*t

"Okay mom! One second!"

What the hell am I supposed to wear?

I quickly threw on my ripped, black skinny jeans, and a plain white tee shirt. Searching through my dresser drawer, I found a pair of dark red socks. I pulled them on and hurriedly forced my feet into my black vans. Time for another day of hell.

"Tyler, don't forget to eat breakfast! It's the most important mean of the day!" My mom said as I was getting ready to walk out the front door.

Food. Oh no.

I grabbed a banana and said as I walked out the door, "Bye, mom! Love you!"

I unlocked the door to my Honda Civic Coupe, which barely worked due to the damage it was out through by the old owner. He was a drunk. Unfortunately, my family was broke, and this was the cheapest car they could afford.

Driving through my hometown, I blasted Green Day, one of my favorite bands at the time.

Pulling up to the dreadful high school, Olentangy High School. No one got me, I was the outcast. I wasn't like the other kids, I didn't listen to the same music, I didn't dress the same, I didn't feel the same. I didn't have the normal amount of serotonin in my brain. I had clinical depression.

The only person who seemed to really get me was Josh Dun. He always know what to say, always knew when to say it. He felt the same sometimes, it was comforting to have someone who could get me.

I walked down the halls, and I could feel the people stare me down. I needed to get away, to escape. Where was josh when I needed him?

The second bell rang, and it was time for me to go to my first class, my least favorite class. Physical Education.

For normal people, it wouldn't be that big of a deal, right? Well, I had a secret, my deepest and darkest secret. I self harmed. Why would I do that? Why would I do such a harmful thing to myself? Honestly, there's no many reasons that I don't even know anymore. Maybe it because the chemicals in my brain were screwed up, or maybe because no one loved me, maybe because I was a failure. Maybe because I was me.

Changing was the hardest part. Everyone could see me, I was vulnerable. But other than that, I really liked basketball. It was actually one of the few things I enjoyed. But I was too insecure to actually play, so I never participated. Social anxiety.

55 minutes later and I was on to my next class, Math. Calculus. Math was my weakest subject, I only passed because of Josh, for he was in the same class. I just couldn't concentrate, my mind was too busy worrying and thinking about everything else but the lesson.

"Tyler, are you paying attention?" My teacher, Mr. Wilson asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"Oh, uh yeah, sorry," I muttered. I hated when he called me out.

"Okay, then what's the answer to number 3?" He asked, with his famous smug smirk on his face.

"Uh, 17?" I answered, not sure. I looked over at josh, and he mouth 173. Oops.

"Wrong, Mr. Joseph. See me after class."

I blushed, embarrassed at how stupid I was. I wanted to die right then and there.

Fuck.

The bell eventually rang, after the 55 minutes of hell, and I walked up to my teachers test.

"You wanted to see me?" I asked, nervously fidgeting with the cuffs of my black jacket.

"Yes. I have noticed within these last two weeks your grades have been dropping. Why is that?" He asked, looking up from grading tests from previous days.

"Oh, um, I'm not really sure," I forced a chuckle.

"Fix it, or else you might have to go to an easier class." He really exaggerated "easier". Oh boy.

"Yes, Mr. Wilson, I promise I will."

He went back to grading the tests, and I hurriedly went to my 3rd period class.

||-//

Eventually the school day ended. Another day of hell. Going back home was almost as bad, for I had all this negativity that I would unleash on myself. Just another typical day.

A.N.

Lol I'm back at it again with another book uwu