The first nip of glorious autumn was in the strong Ohio wind that evening. The mighty oaks that lined Cane Street were letting their stretched limbs dance to the cool breeze as little birds twittered and whistled among their branches, gathering food for the coming winter.

It was a wonderful thing to witness the signs of the approaching fall season, but the only two people walking down Cane Street were being too mindless to even realize. Their vacant stares looked right past the gorgeous autumn and just traveled straight into a hopeless oblivion.

Silently they stalked, side by side with nothing on their tongues and everything on their minds until the faded gray of worn out asphalt parted into a side street on their right. Both dismal faced teenagers stopped at the banged-up street sign and glanced up at it in silence, their dull eyes tracing its many scars. A mutual air of resistance to move floated between them.

With a sigh that drifted visibly on the wind, the short framed girl softly wished, "Good luck, Tyler."

The slim teenage boy didn't shift his gaze from the towering sign. But he felt his cousin's pitiful gaze on the side of his face, clear as day, as he simply stared up in attempt to ignore the coming lonliness.

"You too," Tyler finally replied, nodding as he kept his eyes glued to the sign.

With a last vacant look at him, the girl turned slowly and drifted down the side street.

Tyler stared after his cousin and watched her grow smaller and smaller as she walked back to her simple house, just like she did every day after school. He gave a heavy sigh and let his shoulders sink in dread before leaving the sign and continuing, alone, down the remainder of Cane Street.

Finally, a homely yellow house came into Tyler's view. A one-story house with no shudders, a small unkept porch, empty flowers beds in front, and a tattered off-white front door. It was the only house around that dared break the sleepy autumn silence of the neighborhood with its family squabbles. At least, to their neighbors, it seemed like just family squabbles because of how well the walls muffled Tyler's harsher reality.

He circled around to the side of the house and rested his hand on the screendoor's rusty handle. Tyler took a deep breath, trying to filter out the yelling that drifted from the kitchen. Every once in a while there would be a pause in the yelling and a muffled reply, which was surely Tyler's younger brother.

When he worked up the courage to open the door, Tyler tried to carelessly stride through the kitchen and on into his bedroom unnoticed. Unfortunately, it was a failed attempt.

"Well there you are, little rat," his mother growled, turning away from the kitchen sink where his brother was currently uncomfortably standing and taking a mouthful of harsh words. A burnt food smell pierced the air and hit Tyler's nose as he felt his mother's glare burn through his hoodie right into his back. He suddenly realized the unfortunate situation and just gave up his planned route, sliding his backpack onto a nearby chair and turning around to face her dead on.

"Hey, mom," Tyler muttered, not meeting her eyes. Instead, he sent his gaze past her to look at his little brother's troubled face and broken eyes. Tyler forced an expression to tell his brother he would take care of this.

"Don't 'hey mom' me," she barked, stepping closer to him and shoving her finger onto his chest. "You're late! You were meandering down the road when you could have been making dinner! Instead, I'm starving because your ignorant brother can't even put together a decent meal!"

Tyler continued to avoid her gaze as she got up in his face.

"What is your sorry excuse this time, Tyler? Do I even want to know?" his mother hissed.

"I was walking home with Rachel," he softly replied. 

"That piece of trash can't even get a decent grade. I thought I told you to stay away from her," his mother spat, retreating back and stumbling against a counter.

Tyler clenched his teeth. His cousin, Rachel, had trouble with her grades because of her undiagnosed dyslexia. Her parents were divorced and both worked full-time jobs, therefore they couldn't spare time to help her with school. She was also the only person who knew about his passion for music.

"Rachel is my cousin," Tyler managed to say through his teeth. "She needs help, too,"

"Don't talk back to me, child!" His mother shouted, her words laced with drowsiness and liquor. "Now shut your mouth and make me something to eat."

The boys stood still and silent, exchanging glances as their mother ran her hand over her face and tried to leave the room. Instead, she tripped over a pile of broken bottles and stumbled forward into the living room. She turned her fiery gaze to the bottles and wheeled around to Zack like it was his fault.

"Zack," she sharply barked. "Clean up this mess before I hit one of those bottles upside Tyler's head."

Tyler glared at her as she left the room and headed to her bedroom. She slammed the door, causing both boys to flinch. There were a few more moments of silence before Tyler turned to his brother.

"You okay?" Tyler asked.

Zack nodded solemnly.

"Good," Tyler said strongly and clearly, heading to the stove. "I'll make dinner. Mac and Cheese sound good?"

Knowing it was his favorite, Tyler sent a glance over his shoulder to Zack. His younger brother's face lifted slightly. Tyler let his first smile of the day cross his face in hopes of encouraging his brother. It seemed to work because, after nodding again, his brother went straight to cleaning up the bottles on the floor with a small smile in his eyes.

Something their mother had failed to notice after living with him for his whole life, was the fact that Zack was hard of hearing. Tyler suspected it was because of all the yelling that went on in the house. Tyler was clever enough to avoid the house as much as possible with a bunch of made up excuses all the time. However, Zack almost always stuck around the house, whether it was because he worried about their mother or because he wasn't sure how to get out. Tyler tried to coax his brother out of the house whenever he went out, but most of the time Zack would just kindly refuse.

Tyler sighed as he filled a worn out silver pan with water. He wished he could help his brother, but how?

Later that night, after plopping into the bed without even changing, Tyler was left in complete silence to stare up at the bare ceiling above his bed with nothing but his own thoughts to keep him company as he struggled to find sleep. And that was when a familiar voice stretched out from the deepest part of his mind.

It was a deep, growling voice that sent powerful words to fill weary Tyler's mind. It began to remind him of his troubles and convince him that they were his fault. And Tyler sat through it all, listening to the only voice who would talk to him and 'understand' his hardships. The more often this voice visited Tyler in the night, the more often he would lie to himself and say the voice's words were comforting and true. And every night that he would surrender to the voice, the darkness would poison his mind a little more and a bit of Tyler would be suppressed to die.

"Sleep now and think about what you've done today,"

Tyler nodded slowly as he shut his eyes, a stabbing pain of guilt and regret sinking into his heart, "Okay, Blurryface,"

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