Searching for Purpose (Twenty One Pilots)

10. Drumsticks

The week passed Tyler by in a blur. He was vaguely aware of what they had gone over in each of his classes, but beyond that, he was clueless. He knew he had talked to Mark a bit more and had gotten his number, and he knew that he had seen the blond girl hanging out near the library, and he was pretty sure that he had gone over to Josh's room after their classes had ended every day to play video games and laugh about stupid things, but he couldn't for the life of him remember the specifics.

What had he and Josh played? What did he talk to Mark about? Had he made any plans to hang out with him yet? Did he smile at the girl? What did he have for lunch? Did he even have lunch? Or breakfast? Dinner? Had he even left the vicinity of his dorm room for more than two hours?

Tyler couldn't answer any of it. He was lost inside his own head and couldn't find the map. It was pretty stupid, Tyler thought, to be confused by what goes on inside your own head. Seriously, he should know how his mind works by now. He's been living with it for a good amount of time now. Everyone else had their lives together and got things done and didn't get confused by their own thoughts. Why couldn't Tyler be like that?

"It would be so much easier being someone else," Tyler mumbled to himself. As soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to take them back. Nobody else talked to themselves randomly throughout the day. Just another item on the list of reasons as to why I'm not, and won't be, normal, Tyler thought.

The door to his dorm opening caused Tyler to sit upright. Josh had been over at his room so often that he gave up on locking it during the day, but it wasn't Josh standing at the door. It was the guy whose room was right across the hall from Josh, a tall, lanky boy with brown hair and glasses named Michael.

"Hey, what's up?" Tyler asked. Michael didn't really talk that much. In fact, he talked less than Tyler did, which was saying something. The most Tyler had ever heard the guy say was the other morning when he had been talking to some other person about a show he had gone to, and even at that he only said about two sentences, each containing seven words at most.

"I think something happened to Josh. He's really upset and he won't stop shaking," Michael explained. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "I think it would help if you were with him."

Tyler was on his feet in a matter of seconds.

"Where?"

Michael pointed down the hall to the siting area that was set up for their floor. Tyler rushed out of the room, calling a thank you out over his shoulder as he went. There was a voice in his head telling Tyler that there wasn't anything he could do to help Josh. That he was too broken to help anyone else, but right now his friend needed him, and nothing was going to stop him.

"Josh?" Tyler said, worry making his voice crack.

Josh was sitting on the couch. His eyes were wide and unblinking, panic and fear prominent in his face. Tyler didn't know what it was like to feel his heart break, but he was pretty sure this was as close as he'd ever get.

"Josh, what's wrong?" Tyler asked as he sat down next to him. He wrapped an arm around his friend to try to stop him from shaking, but his efforts were in vain.

"I thought I saw the guy who used to beat me up," Josh half-whispered.

The frown on Tyler's face deepened. "What? Where?"

"At the mall. I was getting some new drumsticks and the guy at the counter looked exactly like him and I just. I freaked. I couldn't do it," Josh shook his head. "I ran out of there and came back."

"But it wasn't him?"

"No," Josh sighed. "Thank God, no. This guy's name was like, Nate or something. The guy from my school was named Darren. But still, it scared me so bad. I didn't know what to do and I felt like I couldn't breathe." Josh was on the edge of tears now. Tyler moved closer and pulled Josh into a hug. He wasn't very good with comforting words, but holding someone until they had calmed down was something Tyler could do. God knows he did it to himself almost every night.

A half hour passed before Josh had calmed down enough to stand up. He was still pretty shaken, which Tyler understood, so they headed back to Josh's room and spent the rest of their Saturday eating cold pizza from the other night and playing videogames they had already beaten at least twenty one times.

Josh passed out at eight, exhausted from his panic attack earlier. Tyler tossed a blanket over him and turned out the lights. He went back to his own room and got his keys. Josh had said that he freaked before he even bought the drumsticks, and Tyler knew how much he needed new ones, so he decided he would go out and get them.

When he got back from the mall, he went over to Josh's room and left the drumsticks near his head, a place where Josh was sure to see them when he woke up. Once he was sure that Josh was still okay, he went back to his own room, deciding that the best thing to do was take a shower.

Wrong. Tyler spent the entire time worrying about Josh and the guy who used to beat him up. Why would anyone ever want to beat up Josh? He was so loving and caring and a genuinely nice person. Why would anyone want to hurt him? Sure, his puns could use a little bit of work, but his other jokes were fantastic. How could someone be so mean as to go after Josh? How could anyone be so mean as to go after anybody?

Why did people get bullied? Why did people bully? Why did people hurt others? Why did people hurt themselves? Why did Tyler want to hurt himself? Why was it so tempting? Why was it so easy to do? Why couldn't he just do it?

Why was he so weak?

Tyler left the shower gasping for air. His heart was beating way too fast and his hands were shaking. When he looked in the mirror, he didn't see what he saw yesterday. He saw someone who was scared of going to sleep and sometimes kept the lights on at night. He saw someone who spent their entire life hiding in the shadows for fear of public embarrassment. He saw fear. He saw anxiety. He saw the wish of a quick end and no tomorrow, but no will to do anything to make the wish come true.

He saw himself.

And that terrified him.

He quickly left the bathroom and sat down on his bed. He counted to ten once. Then again. And again. And again. And again and again and again again again again until ten became twenty and twenty became forty and fifty and soon he was trying to see what the highest number he could count to was.

When he got to 1,003 his heartbeat began to slow down and the numbers started sounding like a foreign language.

 

((((Still open to any and all song suggestions))))