I walk home looking towards my shoes, kicking up dust. I stare off into space, looking off into another dimension. I don't know if my brain is searching for another realm to escape to, or another distraction. I can't tell anymore.

I reach the door and enter the house, embracing the cold air. Running to my room, I dropped my bag and locked myself in the bathroom, pulling out the razor from a hiding spot.

"Okay, just breathe..."
I take deep breaths and try to calm down to keep myself from doing anything rash or too deep.

I inhale...
Stupid.
Exhale...
Pathetic.
Inhale...
Alone.
Exhale...
Weak.
Cut.

The blood rushes out of my arm slowly. I continue with process until my arm is covered in fresh cuts, some deeper than others. I walk over to the kitchen sink to wash off my arm since the bathroom sink needs to be fixed.

The cold water feels good against my open wounds. When I was finished, I wrapped my arm up in a bandage, took care of my supplies, put on a sweater and went to take a nap.

I lay in bed, feeling my arm throbbing.
Was this really what I needed?

Of course it was.

Wait, why would I think that? Nobody in the right mind would think what I think.
Who am I kidding; I'm no shrink. I need a therapist.

I doze off before any more thoughts flood my mind.

A few hours later

"Ty? Ty....Tyler! Hey!"
I am shaken awake by whom I can only assume would be Josh.
"Wake up sleepyhead, I just got home. Now tell me; hamburgers or tacos?"

I roll over with a groan.
"Tacos."
He smiles and plants a kiss on my head.
"By the way, why are you home early? Bad day?" I sigh.
"Yeah...anxiety." I shake my head, knowing I'm lying to him.
"Well, as long as you're okay then. I'm going to make dinner. Meet me downstairs in 25, ok babe?"

How long will I be able to keep this bluff up?

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A/N: thank u all for the votes! Any suggestions on improvements or ideas? Thanks!