"Ouch, that hurts," Tyler groans, his body restless, but he fights to keep his arm in place. Josh finishes wrapping the blood-filled tensor bandage around Tyler's wrist and throws his back against the wall in relief.

"Seeing you like this hurts more."

A cold rush of wind pushes through the thin areas of plywood surrounding them. Josh hides his hands in the sleeves of his coat.

"How much longer do you think we'll be stuck in here for?" Tyler asks as his cheeks bloom a pink hue.

"Until the storm is over."

"We lost count of days we've been in here for. It feels like weeks. I want to leave, Josh."

"Then leave."

"What?"

Josh sighs and turns his body to Tyler, who's cautiously protecting his open wound that's now wrapped in fabric. Josh tilts his head to the right until the wall stops it. "You're the one keeping us here, Ty."

Tyler looks down at his hands and finds dead pieces of skin on his fingertips to pick off. Then his fingers travel to the dead flakes on his lips. "Help me."

"Do you remember what we practiced?"

"Yeah."

Josh reaches for Tyler's hand. He pulls his hand back but hesitantly lays his hand in Josh's. Josh's thumb presses into the center of Tyler's palm, slowly easing Tyler into a meditative state. The harsh wind slows, the whistling from the breeze dies down, and slowly, Tyler opens his eyes with a tear on his cheek.

"Are we..." Tyler looks at Josh with a hopeful glimmer in his eyes.

"Home."

*

The floorboards creak underneath Tyler's socks. This was the seventh round he made around the layout of his house. With each step, a new voice whispered in his ear. A hurtful one. Then another. Until his mind was laced with unending layers of voices. Josh was the only one who could save him in these moments, but he wasn't anywhere to be found. He usually always was with Tyler unless his mind brought him to a room he had never seen Josh in before. He attempted to manifest a new room to see his only friend potentially, but the voices trapped Tyler.

"Hey," a hoarse but honey-coated voice fills his ears from behind him. A hand pats Tyler's right shoulder, forcing him to turn around.

"Josh." Tyler whips his body around and throws himself into Josh's arms in a heartbeat. "Oh my God, I thought you were dead or lost."

"You know I can't die."

"Yeah... well... I don't know. I'm still figuring it out."

"I know. It's okay."

"Just stay by my side. Please."

"You got it, Ty."

A distant thump echoes throughout the living room. Tyler focused his attention on the repeated patterns of thumps. It was coming from his bedroom, down the hall. He took Josh's hand and let him trail behind as Tyler led the way to the noise. Peeking into his bedroom door, he watched the two dark oak doors of his closet swinging, taking turns opening and closing. A yellow glow behind the closet doors frequently illuminated the dark bedroom.

"What's on your mind?" Josh asks softly.

Tyler blinks his eyes with force, hesitating to answer. Sometimes, he couldn't put a finger on what crossed his mind. "Childhood... uh..."

"Take your time, Ty."

Tyler takes a deep breath in. His chest tightens. "Neglect. Isolation. Childhood. Oppression."

Josh's eyebrows tremble, feeling sorrow for Tyler. He clutches his fists, attempting to transfer the tension in his face to his hands to hide emotion. "Let's go through it together. I'm here."

"No. I can't."

"You need to heal."

Tyler took a minute of silence in. He knew Josh was right. He was always right... somehow. Sometimes it frustrated Tyler because he wanted to be right for once. "Okay."

"Okay." Josh smiles.

With each step through the blinding glow of the closet, children's laughter suffocates them. A warm tingly feeling rushes through their bodies as they find themselves in Tyler's childhood home. Sunlight gently breaks through the yellow curtains, amplifying the nice and cozy feel of the room.

A little boy sat on his knees, leaning against a wooden table his size. He carefully cut out colored circles one by one and lined them up in a circle. It was the planets of the galaxy revolving around the sun. He then finished cutting out a rocket ship and pretended to fly it into space.

"What planet should we go to?" Little Tyler asks, talking to the empty room. As if he heard someone reply back, he nodded and proceeded to move the paper rocket ship onto a planet far from Earth. Almost in an instant, Little Tyler's face morphs into anger. He slides the scissors off the small wooden table. "No! You can't do that!"

He stares into the room, keeping his eyes locked in place, but not quite looking at what's ahead of him. "This isn't fair! I'm tired of always being wrong!"

"Who is he talking to?" Tyler asks Josh, not pulling his attention away from the little boy.

"He's talking to me. That's you, Tyler."

"No... that's not me. He looks like that, but I look like this." He gestures to his current appearance.

"When you were younger."

"But I don't... I don't remember when I was younger. I don't remember... anything."

Josh nods like he already knew. "You never do," he mumbles under his breath. He didn't seem at all angry or annoyed, but more upset.

"What?"

"That's why we heal. We heal to not feel pain when we remember."