Until Dawn: Tyrants {Josh Washington}

1//goner

^Twenty One Pilots^
A/N This is the first real chapter of this story, so enjoy:)
"Now let's party like we're fucking pornstars, okay?" Josh's voices echoes out of my headphones. I sink into his voice. Those few phone calls are all I have had to hang on to as far as his voice goes.
I stare at the screen, at him, looking at me through it. His eyes are sad, but there's an excited smile on his face. I blink, wondering why he invited us all back after what happened.
The video ended, but he remains there, paused until I finally shut my phone off.
I stand up from my spot on my couch, already knowing that I have to go, not only for Josh, but for everyone else, too. I miss them all so much.
I find myself staring out of the small window of my apartment, and I watch the snow outside tumble down from the sky. The people on the streets below are running around from place to place, shielding themselves from the snow, from the cold.
I guess you could call it depression, what's in my head. You could call it mourning. You could call it going crazy, being human.
I guess I would call it being completely, inconsolably grief stricken to a point where I am nothing but a black hole, sucking up everything around me, including my sanity.
I'm a goner, I suppose. It's just hard to grasp the idea that my friends have probably gotten over it for the most part, and I'm still here, thinking too much.
Beth and Hannah were my best friends. How do you get over something like your best friends disappearing and most likely being dead?
My phone ringing derails my train of thought. I walk over to it, reading the text appearing on my screen. "Mom".
I answer it reluctantly.
"Hey, mom," I greet drudgingly.
"Honey, I found you a therapist. His name is Dr. Tundricy. I've already talked to him on the phone and he said he can start sessions with you next week," She exclaims.
"Mom, I don't want a therapist, please. I'm 20. If I wanted to go to therapy, I would have already done so, okay? Also, next week I'm going to be at the lodge. Josh invited us all back there," I explain.
"He did? After everything? Well, if it gives him some closure, then more power to him. Maybe it will give you some, too,"
"Maybe. Anyways, just cancel the appointment, okay? I don't need a therapist right now," I tell her.
"Okay, honey, but once you get back we have to figure something out to help you," She says. "I love you. Have fun at the lodge,"
"Bye, mom,"
"Bye,"
I press the 'end' button, annoyed. I don't want a therapist. I want Beth and Hannah back. I want Josh back, and to be known by him again. I want my friends.
My phone stays in my hand, and I contemplate calling Josh. I can tell he isn't getting better, just by the look in his eyes during that video message. My vision travels around the room, noticing the large amount of dust collecting, and the obvious lack of cleaning that had been done. I'm not getting better, either.
I'm going back to the lodge. Maybe I can catch my breath for a while. I don't want to shove myself into a corner anymore.
I set my phone down on the coffee table, deciding to call Josh tomorrow before I leave. I don't want to annoy him right now.
The floor is cold under my feet as I walk to my room to begin packing. I pull my suitcase out from under my bed, and set it on top. It fills up quickly with warm clothes and other things I need. Soon enough, I'm zipping it up and laying next to it, staring at the ceiling while my vision gets blurry.
"Josh Washington. I am in love with you,"
I say the words he said that night. They're some of the only words I think of besides "Hannah and Beth haven't been found, yet".
My eyes close and I fall asleep, anxious about tomorrow, seeing everyone again. Knowing that they have called over this past year and I've only answered sometimes, never making plans to get together or offering to catch up.
I've made a goner out of myself. I've thrown myself into an empty smile. I need somebody to catch my breath before I stop breathing entirely.
Tomorrow is that day that things will change.