Don't Let Me Be Gone (Twenty One Pilots)

And Response

  *Please read with chapter with care. Stay alive |-/*  

It was Friday after school and everyone in the Joseph family had packed their bags for the weekend trip to Zack's basketball game at the town fours hours down South.

Everyone but Tyler. He decided to stay back and finish his "essay" due on Monday as he told his family.

Tyler's parents were hesitant to let him stay alone because he was only 17 years old and had never been left alone in the house by himself for a weekend but after some negotiation, they let him stay as long as he would practice his basketball free throws everyday to get prepared and ready for his next game.

As they drove away for the weekend, Tyler began to envy the highlights driving South.  

The air began to feel a little thin and Tyler walked inside his house, locked the door and turned on the porch lights that, in Tyler's mind, sorta portrayed a torch in a way. He looked out to all the lights on in the neighborhood and noticed that the lights looked like a glowing fire as he moved his head back and forth and it was as if he were to look away, in the corner of his eye, the street would be ablaze.

He walked all around his house until he got to his room. As he sat on his bed he pulled out from under it two things: his notebook and his box. He unlocked the box with the key in his wallet and took out the pen that was inside of it. This pen he knew too well. He turned the pen around and around, studying it, before pressing the pen side's button this time, to write with in his notebook.

How is it that I have so many of those "bad" thoughts and I don't act on them? nothing is really stopping me. why is it that only I can know my mind? Why do I think so much? why does it keep me up at night? why is there no off switch? I got to 2,530 counting last night. but 75 today. I get sidetracked when counting but it kinda helps keep my mind doing one thing. 

Tyler thought over what he wrote.

He thought it over again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And againandagaingf and again. anfgasingd.

why think it over?

He began to write again.

I've been thinking too much
Help me

________________________________________________________________

It was now dark outside when Tyler woke up in his bed with his head where his feet should be and his feet where his head should be.

Let's just say he was beyond confused. And if Tyler knew anything about himself: he HATED being confused.

His body shot straight up and he looked around his bed for evidence on how he ended up that way. 

He felt something in his right hand and looked down to it and noticed the pen he was holding, which was the same one from before. He lifted up his left hand to pull the blanket off of him but when he moved it, he felt soft but still noticeable pain. Feeling anxious, he pulled up his left sleeve and to his sight, nothing was red gladly, but there were several upon several black pen marks all on his forearm.

Tyler was scared, frustrated, anxious but mostly confused. He didn't remember doing any on the pen marks at all last night. He started breathing short, quick breaths. 

don't you remember?

Why was this voice terrorizing him? Who was this voice? This voice only has ever shown up recently.