(Don't) Leave Me Alone •twenty one pilots-Tyler Joseph•

four//i've got a migraine

||Charlotte Robin Dun|| First Person||

When I rejoin the land of the living and the awake, the first thing I'm greeted with is what you'd expect. A nice, painful hangover from the Welcoming Committee.

My brain feels like it's being teared open and apart excruciatingly slowly with talons and razor blade hands. The miners above my head are having a heck of a time remodelling, not holding back as they raise their pickaxes and sledgehammers above their heads excitedly before bringing them down hard. With that precise blow, my eyes are flying open and I'm diving forward, clutching my head between my hands and letting out a surprised guttural scream of pain. I bunch myself up into a ball, trying to eliminate all the light from my line of sight because it hurts, it hurts, it hurts. I dig my face into the knees of my skinny jeans, digging for some kind of self inflicted pain that will take my thoughts off of the construction work in my head. But it doesn't work, and I'm left there, bawling into the knees of my skinny jeans and letting out muffled screams.

My bedroom door slams open, the doorknob crashing into the wall and making the workers jump, leaving their weapons in my brain. When they see who it is, they shrug and get back to work, their laughter and words swimming around my head and slamming into the walls of my skull. I don't even realize that Josh is sitting in front of my bed, his hands clenching and unclenching the duvet as he tries to speak to me, tries to get through to me. But there's something wrong with me, and I'm scared that maybe the reason everything hurts so much is because I maybe fell too many times last night.

"Oh my God, what's happening to her?" I hear my mother say in exasperation, but then Tyler is saying something that I can't understand and he's taking her away before she could see the worst of it. Hangovers, migraines, and anxiety don't mix well with each other, and Mom doesn't know that I got drunk.

"Robin," Josh sighs, standing up to his full height just to sit down next to me on my bed. He grips the edges of my dark curtains and flicks them shut, eliminating as much light as he could. The stomach acids swirl nervously around in my stomach, making me dive forward and almost heave the contents of my stomach on the ground. "Hey, shh, shh." Josh pulls me to him, resting my head on his chest while his arms encircle my balled up body. I shake, no, quake in his arms, my hands coming up to my head. I dig my fingers into my scalp, trying to beat the miners away. But I go right through them, just like they're going through me.

"Tell them to stop." I whisper to Josh, and he shakes his head, mumbling under his breath words I cannot decode as he rocks me slowly. "TELL THEM TO STOP!" I scream at Josh, bunching my fists up in my hair and trying to rip each strand out of my scalp. But Josh's hands are catching my own in a grip, slowly undoing each finger until my palms are open and I'm trying to inhale air.

"It's okay, just sleep." Josh tells me softly, rocking me calmly, his slightly deep and soft voice soothing me and hypnotizing the miners for even just a few minutes. I clutch the arms wrapped around me, gasping for air because the pain has spread down to my face. The miners are panicking now, stumbling and tripping and falling. I know because a sharp pain pulses through my right eye.

By the time the pain is left to a dull throb, I realize that Tyler was sitting there the whole time, gripping a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water. His eyes show that he's concerned, his lips pulled up in a frown as he watches me squeeze my eyes shut and bury my face into the pillow. Josh runs his hands through my hair, telling me to breathe and all that. And eventually, I do.

"You should, uh, you should probably take these." Tyler says quietly, shy as usual, giving the cup and the pills to my brother. Josh makes me sit up, letting me lean against the wall as he pushes the medication into my mouth and holds the glass to my lips. I take a sip of the cool liquid, forcing the pill down through my nausea before pushing the cup away from me. "You should sleep, Robin."

I shrug my shoulders and close my eyes softly, focusing my breathing as evenly as possible. Everyone stays quiet until I finally peek open. "What happened?" I whisper as softly as I can. Josh is about to speak, but Tyler beats him to it.

"Migraine." Tyler tells me. "Alcohol can increase the risk of getting one, so imagine a hangover, a migraine, and from the way you were freaking out, an anxiety attack all in one."

"F uck." I breathe out, cautiously lying back down and pressing my throbbing head into my cool pillow. "Fuc k."

...

"You aren't leaving this house today," Josh tells me out of nowhere, his voice filled with certainty while his facial expression is still soft. That's Josh Dun for you. I look over at him, his blue hair slightly messy and no doubt wavy, and sigh. His eyes are red, as if maybe he didn't sleep last night. And then I remember that he didn't, because I was out all night getting drunk and partying with a slightly reluctant Ryan Mistry. "With the stunt you pulled last night, and your migraine, you're staying here."

"Whatever," I mutter, pulling the duvet up and over my head. I was not in the mood to argue. "Get out of my room."

"So now you're going to be all bratty after what happened two minutes ago?" Josh stands up, pulling the hem of his white t-shirt down a bit. "God, Robin, what the hell happened to you?"

"Life, okay?" I grumble into my pillow, trying to block the noise he's letting out with my pillow's sides. "Get off my back."

"One day, you're going to get yourself killed." Josh sneers at me. "And I won't be surprised."

"Then fucking leave!" I shout at him, immediately regretting raising my voice. "Leave me alone, for fu ck's sake!"

And he does. Pissed off beyond belief, my older brother Josh Dun(the one who is always smiling and is a ball of sunshine) takes long strides out of my bedroom. He doesn't even bother reaching to slam my door, because he knows that would hurt me and he still cares about me. Tyler looks at me incredulously.

"You have got to be kidding me." Tyler says dryly, an exasperated chuckle escaping his lips. "After all he does for you, you push him away?"

"Yes." I say. There really is no point denying the truth.

"Then in that case, I agree with Josh. You are going to end up dead one of these days, and no one will be surprised." Tyler shrugs his shoulders, standing up and dropping the package of pills on my nightstand. He turns around and heads for the door, grabbing the golden doorknob and shutting the white, wooden door softly.

That makes sense. That makes so much sense. Take a look at Robin Dun, grade A troublemaker and local screw up.
Am I a bad kid for wanting to have a bit of fun? Oh, but I'm going to get myself killed instead because, I forgot, I can't do anything right. They'd probably take a look at my dead body and think that she couldn't even pay whatever make believe drug debts they think I have.

So what if I end up dead? At least I'll be smiling.

-/::\-

No note today because I'm sleepy.

-Stay Classy, Young Volcanoes

•LeaveNoWordsUnspoken