forum There are voices in our heads rp (Closed)

Started October 16, 2018 by @basil_

tune

(Eh
You?)

The sheet was covered in lines of scrawled script, some written so forcefully they had torn holes in the page.
(Sorry these are so short)

(Meh)
(And it’s okay, mine are too)

Tyler looked down at the paper curiously, still frowning. He tried reading it, her handwriting proving difficult to decider side it was so quick and forced.

(opens note full of depressing poetry
cracks knuckles)

One line was written in darker pen than the rest.

Death gives a warmer welcome than the icy hands of solitude.

(Lmao oof)

Tyler’s eyes widened a bit, reading the line quickly. He looked back down at the desk, wondering if she wanted him to see it or not, whether he should read more.

(Lol)

A slice of sunlight streaming through the gap between curtains fell across the page, illuminating yet more writing that appeared to be separate from the first line.

Arms coming up empty
My heart gathers dust
Not even tears wet my cracked lips
They’re the cause of the rust
On my soul,

And my pale hands,
They tremble for him
But his chair is as empty as I am
I don’t think
I can win

(whoa)

Tyler brought his hand up to his mouth, tears forming at the front of his eyes. When did she write this? He set it back down on the desk, still looking down at it.

(Oof I came up with most of that on the spot sorry)

Below it, almost as an afterthought, was a date. Five and a half months after he’d left. And next to that…
‘I can’t win.’

(whhhoooooaaa)

Tyler sank down onto the bed, guilt pouring over him as he set his head in his hands. 'How could I have left her?" He whispered to himself,

(Oof Thanks)

The cloud cover shifted, causing the beam of sunlight to fall instead on the desk, drawing his eye.

(GUYS GET OUT OF THE WAY
ITS THE LOOORORRODODODOODDDD)

Tyler looked up at the desk and the piece of paper, squinting a little in the light.

(What)

There was a red stain on the corner of the page, several months old.

(sorry it's a vine xD

Tyler picked it back up, his hands wobbling a little. He traced his fingers over the paper, still slightly shocked.

(Lol)

The blood gave way to yet another poem, one that spoke of how her hands had once held another’s, now they left red trails down her arm.

(omfg she just exposed him)

Tyler read the poem, her screams echoing briefly in his head. The image of her blood dripping down her neck flashing through his mind.

(Oof)

Almost as if she were on cue, Macha chose to open the bedroom door, stifling a yawn as she entered. “Tyler? Why are you—“ The blood drained from her face the moment she laid eyes on him.

“I..Macha…” Tyler stammered, eyes filling with tears. “Everyday I think that we might be okay but then I remember how much I hurt you..” He said in a whisper.

Macha leaned heavily against the doorframe, closing her eyes for a moment in order to collect her thoughts. "Tyler. It takes– It takes time to be okay. And– We're never going to be okay if you don't stop blaming yourself." She approached him unsteadily, peering down at the paper in his hands. Oh god. "You weren't supposed to see these…" she whispered, reaching for the page.

“But I did…and..” He trailed off, not being able to find the right words to describe the poems. He looked back down, sliding the paper back across the bed. “Sorry..”

Macha stared down at the page, at the drop of blood, silent for another minute or two before she crossed her room and began to clean the mess she'd made. "God…" she muttered, half to herself, "I made such a mess last night…. I'm sorry you had to see those. I forgot to clear it away before you woke up.."

“It’s okay..” Tyler replied, not sure what else to tell her. The poems were beautiful..but horrible at the same time..and she wouldn’t want to dwell on the thoughts she was having when she wrote them.

"But it's not…" she whispered before sweeping the last of the pages into a neat pile.

“It will be..I’ll try to make it better.” He replied, still looking down at the floor.

Macha gripped the newly organized pile tightly, before depositing it in her desk drawer. "I'm sorry."

“You don’t have to be sorry. You haven’t done anything wrong.” Tyler said, flicking a little as memories flashed through his head.

I've done everything wrong. She didn't voice the statement, instead choosing to settle next to him on the bed.

Tyler could feel the slight tension between them as he twisted his hands nervously in his lap, trying to focus on her and not the thoughts in his head.

Macha leaned against his shoulder, reaching for one of his hands. Hold me, her body seemed to implore him, I need to be held.

Tyler instinctively took her hand in his, still fighting to gain control of the thoughts in his head. He put his other arm around her, keeping her close to him.

Macha sighed in relief and cuddled up against him, inhaling his familiar scent. I love you… I'm sorry that it's hard to say out loud. I'll say it in here as much as you want. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Her thoughts briefly drowned out all the other noise in his head and he closed his eyes for a second, relaxing against her. I love you too..