Electricityscape |-/ Tyler Joseph Fic

chapter føur

I stayed up pretty late talking to Tyler that night. With every text he sent me, my stomach fluttered in response to the vibration of my phone. But finally I had to say goodnight, setting my phone down and picking up my cannula in exchange. I fell asleep just fine, but it was waking up in the middle of the night that was tough.

It had happened only one other time in my life, but my lungs had filled with liquid overnight and I couldn't breathe. I tried to inhale, but I felt like I was breathing in needles. It hurt to expand my lungs any more than they already were, and as much as I needed to take full breaths, I couldn't do it. I just screamed for my mom to come help and take me to the hospital, which hurt even more than breathing.

I hyperventilated the whole way there, not strong enough to take breaths any bigger than small, rapid inhalations. I didn't hardly remember ever being in that much pain in my entire life more than I did in that moment.

--

I didn't dare tell Tyler what happened. All I did the next day was send him a text after school had ended for him.

Any homework in Spanish?

Just a verb quiz. Where were you today??

Home sick.

Want me to come over?

I would've enjoyed nothing more than having him here, but I couldn't tell him I was in the hospital.

I'm okay. Thank you though.

Any time.

I sighed and set my phone down as the nurse came in to check my vitals for the third time that day. They had drained almost a full liter of liquid from my lungs overnight, which was gross to look at. All I wanted was to be back in Tyler's treehouse, where nothing else mattered as much as being this sick.

--

They sent me home the next day, but not before giving me a PICC line to deliver medication directly into my bloodstream. I stayed at home for the rest of the week, and I didn't feel right enough to talk to Tyler. He would text me now and then, but I didn't want to worry him with this stupid illness. It would pass eventually.

But the thing is, I was drowning in a huge wave of depression. It happened a lot these days, where some days I'd greet the world with a smile, and other days I wouldn't want to greet the world at all. I was feeling so self-destructive, and I had relapsed a few times in the past, but I didn't want to tell him about it. He didn't need to know.

I hope you're doing okay. Let me know if you need anything.

But I smiled at the text he sent me the following Sunday evening. Maybe I could see him if I wore a sweatshirt or something to hide my IV.

Do you think you could come over?

He replied almost immediately. Be there in a few.

I just smiled ridiculously big and pressed a pillow into my face. Then I quickly threw on a loose sweater and put away my vest machine and oxygen tank into my closet.

There was a knock on the door no more than 3 minutes later, which my mom got to before I did. I didn't bother going down to meet Tyler, since my mom just sent him up to my room anyways.

He knocked lightly on my doorframe, even though the door was open. "Hey," he said, as if relieved to see me alive.

"Hi," I greeted with a smile.

He walked into my room and sat on the floor, opening his backpack and spilling out his folders. "So we have an essay to write in English," he told me with a frown.