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The funeral was a blur.
Nothing felt real.
He wanted to run.
Everything and everyone was blue-black, deeper than it ever was, like ginger burning the back of his throat.
He did not remember what he had just said when he stood up.
All he remembers were the gasps and the orange-green-purple in the adults' eyes, like knees scraping on concrete.
Back home, he was greeted by screams from his family, like thousands of forks against glass. As usual, he rushed to his bedroom and locked the door behind him.
Everything was blue-black. He crawled underneath his bed, curling up, biting down on his wrist until it felt any different.
It didn't.
When he felt this way, he would slip out of his window, run to the treehouse, find him again, and finally feel yellow-purple. He was the only one who made him feel this way.
But he was gone. The smell of smoke and burnt wood haunted him.
It was his fault.
He would never forgive himself.
He had lost everything. He was his everything.
He wondered what had happened that night.
Why would Tyler do this?
It was his fault.
That night, everything felt like black holes and the deepest oceanic trench. The house was louder than usual, and he was hiding in the bathroom with his siblings, having nowhere to escape.
He wasn't there for him.
Only later in the night, when he smelled smoke, did everything turn significantly darker.
When he looked out the window and saw fire.
He knew.
His lighter had dropped from his pocket. He didn't think much of it.
He did not realise how big of a deal that was.
It was his fault.
Josh shook his head, hard enough to make himself dizzy.
He wanted to scream.
Hot tears rolled down his cheeks, like lava slowly burning everything in their path.
His skull felt like it was under pressure, like a geyser waiting to erupt.
When his eyes opened the next day, he immediately knew something was off from the simple fact that he was on his mattress.
He did not remember falling asleep. But he clearly remembered not being here.
Everything was too dark to get up and think about it.
All he wanted was to decay, close his eyes long enough that the darkness would swallow him whole and never let him go.
But when he closed his eyes, all he saw was fire.
He did not have the strength to do anything. He did not want to even breathe anymore, like weights pulling him down the abyss.
The entire day felt the same. It went both awfully slow and too fast.
Only when he heard glass shatter and screams from down the stairs did he open his eyes and sit up.
This was eerily familiar.
He was used to his parents losing it and turning everything into a blue-black chaos.
But this felt too familiar.
Like déjà-vu.
He got up fast, too fast, his head spinning, and he rushed downstairs.
He saw his siblings, hiding in a corner, while their parents were violently fighting in the kitchen.
So familiar.
He rushed them to the bathroom, and he locked the door.
"How do you feel?"
T-E-R-R-I-F-I-E-D.
he remembered the letters that Tyler had carved in the treehouse. That was how he felt in this moment.
He was bad with "normal" words. But he would never forget that one.
He looked at his siblings, who seemingly felt the same.
His knees shook.
This was way too familiar.
He was used to fights like these, where he had to protect his siblings.
But this was exactly like that night where everything shifted.
He held his head and slid down the door to the cold tiles, pulling on his bright blue hair, trying to change his mind.
It didn't.
Everything felt like dry hands on microfiber cloths. Like teeth against a chalkboard. Like uncomfortable seams.
He could not hear or see anything anymore. Everything was a deep blue-black, even when he squeezed his eyes shut, shaking.
He couldn't take it anymore.
He opened the door and rushed upstairs to his bedroom. It was reckless. He shouldn't leave his siblings by themselves.
But he couldn't take it anymore.
It felt exactly like that day.
He stumbled into his room, using the wall to keep himself from falling.
And then he saw it, from his window.
The smoke. The fire.
He froze.
"I smell gas on my hands," he whispers before everything goes dark.
He opened his eyes.
He was on his mattress again.
He sat up fast, gasping for air, and he looked down at his hands.
Nothing felt real, and yet everything felt too real at once.
He violently shook, like a hornet swarm trapped in his ribcage.
It was dark outside.
Without putting much thought into it, he opened his window and slipped out. The cold air hit him like a jolt. When he felt the soft ground under his feet, instincts took over and he ran, as fast as he could.
It was dark. He got hit in the face by branches and spider webs several times, almost fell, but he did not care.
He knew what was about to happen, again.
This was his chance, and he had to take it.
"TYLER," He screamed on the top of his lungs, a desperate cry, like his heart being ripped from his chest.
He could smell the smoke.
The treehouse was pretty deep into the forest, hidden from everyone but them.
He ran, he felt his muscles and lungs ache, like thorn bushes growing around his ribs. But everything was too dark and blue for him to care.
It was too late.
He stopped dead in his track and froze.
He stood before the treehouse, on fire.
Too late.
Everything felt like static, and everything went dark once again.
When he woke for the third time on the same mattress, the darkness was familiar.
He opened his eyes and gasped for air.
The smell of smoke still lingered inside of him.
The room was all of the colors at once, but mostly black.
Josh frantically looked around, shaking, struggling to breathe.
It was night, again.
The exact same night.
Why was this happening?
He felt all orange-green-purple. He figured that other people called that confusion.
He looked out his window. No fire. Not yet.
He shook, an earthquake starting at the core of his spine.
He hurried, shoving his feet into his shoes without bothering to tie the laces, and threw open the window.
He had to move.
He had to find Tyler before he set everything on fire again.
He jumped out the window, hitting the ground hard, feeling like glass shards in his entire body, but he didn't care.
He ran faster than his body could handle, almost falling several times, branches whipping his face, spider webs clinging to him. His throat burned raw, tasting like metal.
His vision darkened with each step, but he did not care. He had to get there on time. He had to break the cycle.
He wanted to scream Tyler's name, but not a single sound came out, fear clawing at his lungs.
He felt like he was drowning. Limbs heavy, lungs burning, vision blurring.
When he arrived at the treehouse, it was already burning.
Too late. Too late.
Or maybe not.
The fire hadn't completely engulfed it yet.
He could still try.
The entrance was still accessible.
He rushed up the ladder, too quickly, ignoring the splinter digging into his flesh.
One of the planks gave out under his weight, almost making him fall.
But he climbed inside, dragging his body with his shaky arms.
He saw him. He was there, laying on the wooden floor. His eyes were a dull blue as he turned his head up towards him.
"Tyler..." His voice creaked, shattering like a mirror shot by an arrow.
Everything was blue-black. But this time, with a tiny hint of pink.
The smoke made him dizzy, and he crawled to Tyler, his blue-sky hands reaching out to him.
''I get it now,'' Tyler whispers, voice ash-thin. ''Everything was blue-black and I couldn’t breathe. I’m... I’m sorry.''
Josh shook his head, fingers trembling in Tyler’s sweater.
"Don’t... don’t say sorry. Just stay with me. Please stay. I can’t.. I can't lose you... again,"
The world around them was burning, but they were so cold.
"Don't let go..." Tyler choked. "Prove me that you are real..."
Josh pressed their foreheads together.
"I am not letting go... Not this time..."
Everything was so bright yet so dark.
He wanted to take him, run outside, far away. But his body wouldn't move.
They were together. That's all that mattered. Even if the fire took them both.
They would be together, holding each other tightly, as they were choking, wood collapsing and sparks kissing their skins.
Everything went dark again.
The mattress. Again.
But this time, Josh woke up with less panic.
He weirdly felt yellow-green, the faintest hint of calm and hope breaking through the dark.
The tingling of fire against his skin still lingered. The dizziness from the smoke. The sounds of wood cracking.
And Tyler's warmth against him.
He knew that this time would be the right one. It had to be.
It seemed like he woke up a little earlier this time, maybe early enough to change something.
Maybe he could get to the treehouse before Tyler did.
He got up, and put on the same shoes, this time tying them carefully, and slipped out his window.
He ran, again. How could he not run?
Each step echoed with the weight of every failed past attempt.
This time, as he ran, he avoided some of the branches and webs, and managed not to trip.
He still ran, shaking, but his time there was a hint of yellow-purple. Like flowers blossoming after a long winter.
When he arrived, the treehouse was calm. Too calm. Like birds that stopped singing after spotting a wolf. Like the sunny and warm weather in the eye of a storm.
He hurried up the ladder, peeking his head inside.
He saw him.
Tyler was sitting on the wooden floor, next to the carving he had made a few days earlier, holding the lighter.
He did not have time to turn around before Josh launched himself toward him, grabbing and holding him tight. The lighter fell, rolling far out of reach.
The hug felt like finally being able to breathe after almost drowning. Like a plane landing safely after flying through a storm. Like fireworks going off exactly as the new year hits.
Tyler pushed him away a little, enough to look at him. His eyes, warm-tea brown with honey, scanned his face like he wasn't sure who he even was.
"Josh..." His voice broke, like old branches breaking during a storm. "Is this... Really you?..."
"Please don't do this..." Josh took a shaky breath, "I'm here now... Stay with me...."
Tyler's lips trembled. His fingers hovered above Josh's back, unsure if he could touch him.
"You're... You're not real," he whispered. "You can't be. I made you up. I always do, when it gets bad."
Josh shook his head, too fast, making his own head spin.
"No, no, Tyler- look at me," he reached for his face, soft and a little moist like moss, with a shaky hand, "I'm here. I made it in time. I'm real, I'm-"
"You feel real," Tyler breathed. "But nightmares and dreams also feel real."
Josh could see the blue-black in his eyes.
"Ty... What happened?" He wiped the dirt from Tyler's face with his sleeves, his touch soft like cat fur.
"I understand now... I promise I do..." Tyler sobbed. "Everything is... Blue-black, for me, too..."
Josh froze, "Why..?"
Tyler's fingers finally dug into Josh's sweater, holding tight, so tight, as if scared that he'd vanish any second.
"They told me... What Dr. Craig really did to me," he whispered, burying his face in Josh's neck, soaking it with warm tears. "And... I made you up... You showed up, right after... So of course you're just..."
Josh's chest tightened, yellow-blue and red twisting in his stomach, anger and worry mixed together. Not at Tyler. But at everyone else. At the adults.
He lifted one of his blue-sky hands to cup Tyler's cheek, thumb brushing away painful tears.
"You didn't make me up," He whispered. "You found me."
Tyler shook his head frantically. "No one ever finds me."
"I did."
"You're too... Yellow-purple. People like you don't exist."
Josh let out a trembling laugh, not happy, just exhausted.
"I'm not... Good," he said softly. "I'm scared all the time. I hide. And I mess up..."
Tyler blinked, confused.
"I don't even know your last name," He muttered.
Josh looked away for a moment. It was true. He always was too scared to reveal too much, too scared of being vulnerable.
"It's Dun," he said quietly. "Joshua William Dun."
Tyler stared at him like the name was a spell, like something solid to hold onto. Yellow-purple glowed faintly in his eyes.
"And you... Where do you live?..."
Josh's face fell, feeling the pull of the blue-black reality.
"On the other side of the forest..." Purple-blue shame. "I can't show you right now..." He swallowed hard. "I don't want my parents to... Hurt you."
Tyler burrowed his face into Josh's shoulder again, taking in his scent like proof.
His voice cracked. "Everyone keeps saying you're not real... My mom- she never saw you..."
"Because I hid," Josh moved his head so he could press their foreheads together. "I don't trust adults... Not after everything... I'm sorry..." His breath shook. "But... I'm done hiding..."
Tyler's breath slowed, syncing with Josh's. Their foreheads rested together, their noses almost touching. For a moment, everything was soft, like collapsing on the comfiest mattress after a long journey.
Josh leaned in, slow enough so Tyler could stop him if he wanted to.
He didn't.
The kiss was small, almost accidental, like a thought that slipped out before he could hold it back.
Colors blurred together for a heartbeat, melting together.
Tyler let out a small laugh that sounded more like a sob.
"You're really here..."
"So are you," Josh answered, his voice small, like he was scared his voice would break the bubble they had made.
Silence. Just their breaths. Comfortable purple-yellow, the blue-black draining between the planks of the treehouse floor.
"Okay." Tyler whispered. "Please... Stay with me."
"I will," Josh muttered back. "I won't leave you."
Tyler crawled closer to him, clinging onto him, desperate for contact, to prove himself that the boy with bright blue hair wasn't a figment of his imagination.
Josh touched his fawn-brown hair, a reassuring touch as a promise.
They stayed in a long, comfortable yellow-purple silence.
Tyler finally broke it, his voice so weak yet soft as cloud-light.
"Can we... Go home? My mom, she's... Probably freaking out."
Josh nodded, slowly.
"Of course... Let's go."
They stood, the moon casting silver light across the treehouse, enough for them to see each other's faces.
Josh held out his blue-sky hand, for Tyler's strawberry-red one to hold.
Josh was careful to pick up his lighter. He looked at it, the memory of the fire and funeral hitting him, an overwhelming dark rainbow. He shoved it into his pocket, out of sight and out of mind.
They walked away from the treehouse, which wasn't on fire. Not this time.
They held each other's hands, as evidence.
They marched together, the trees sheltering them, the leaves whispering under each step.
Josh could finally breathe. He finally felt safe, yellow-purple. From the moment he held Tyler tight.
But he still felt a hint of blue-black.
What if he woke up on his mattress again? What if he has to start it all over again?
He shivered, like a wave of freezing water crawling through his skin.
Tyler glanced at him, pink worry in his eyes. But Josh shook his head and smiled, tiger-growl teeth flashing.
Tyler couldn't help but smile back.
Then came screams, a woman's voice, breaking the quiet of the forest. Calling Tyler's name.
His mom.
Both boys froze in their tracks, staring at each other, unsure, blue flooding back to them.
Tyler nudged him, then walked first, still holding his hand.
The voice came again, nearer this time, hoarse, cracked and blue from crying. "Tyler?"
They stopped, again.
The forest held its breath.
They reached the edge of the forest, Tyler's mother stood in the backyard of their house, hair messy and face painted in tears.
When she saw him, she broke. Half a sob, half a prayer, and she ran forward.
"Tyler- Oh my god-" She caught him, hands on his shoulders, streaks of blue-black on her face.
Then she saw the boy standing right behind him.
His bright blue hair. His mocha eyes, wide and terrified.
Nobody moved, time seemingly froze.
The air was thick, like quicksand swallowing them whole.
Tyler's voice was barely a whisper, breaking the stillness. "Mom... This is Josh."
There was something in her eyes that they couldn't read. Blue-purple, with a hint of orange-green.
She didn't answer, her mouth opening and closing. Like a confused fish out of water.
Josh wanted to hide. He hated when adults looked at him, it made him feel all blue-black again. Like being restrained, a nightmare he could never escape no matter how much he screamed.
Tyler squeezed his hand, like a gentle reminder to stay with him. Perhaps also as a way to make sure he was real.
"I thought..." Her voice started as black, but the darkness dissolved into a soft pink. "Oh, Tyler, I'm so sorry..."
Josh shifted uncomfortably, his fingers grazing the lighter in his pocket. He hated being looked at, especially by adults. Their stares always felt like sandpaper and glass shards.
The wind picked up, leaves dancing as a taunt around them.
Josh took a step back, feeling as he should leave. But Tyler squeezed his hand again.
"Why... You'd never believe me?" Tyler shook his head as the blue-black tried to creep back in. "Tell me you can see him."
Her breath hitched.
"I can see him..."
Something shifted in the air, like the wind getting a little warmer, a warm acceptance.
Tyler opened his mouth, but no sound came. He turned his head, smiling, looking at Josh, red-orange tears caught in his lashes. It immediately comforted him.
"I don't like when adults look at me," Josh laughed, with voice breaking a little. "I'd rather hide... But I suppose I got too good at it."
Tyler's mother blinked, pink-yellow glowing stronger.
"You shouldn't have to hide," she whispered. "Neither of you."
Josh shrugged, digging his heels into the dead leaves. Tyler squeezed his hand again, knowing him too well.
His mother stepped closer, slowly, like approaching something fragile.
"You can both come home," She said softly. "Please."
Josh hesitated, looking at Tyler.
Tyler gave him that small, crooked smile, that was so rare and yet made everything feel like warm cinnamon and soft blankets.
The walk home was slow. The night was cold but comforting, like a splash of cold water in the face during a hot summer night.
Tyler's mother walked a few steps ahead, giving them space.
Josh’s fingers stayed tangled with Tyler’s the entire time.
Neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to.
Each step, each leaf crushed under their weight, was proof that it was all really happening.
By the time they reached the front door, it was nearly three in the morning.
Tyler's mother motioned them to step inside.
The yellow lights were warm, it took Josh a moment to let his eyes adjust.
"You can sleep in Tyler's room," she finally said, her voice small. "We'll... Talk more tomorrow." She sighed and added even quieter, "I'm sorry. For everything."
Josh nodded, unsure what to say. Her voice was heavy with purple shame.
Tyler pulled him towards his room, turning off the lights that had been on the entire night already.
Josh was already familiar with this room, more familiar than his own. He felt yellow-purple here, instead of blue-black.
Tyler closed the door behind them and dropped on the bed, pulling Josh down with him.
They didn't say anything, they didn't need to. They only held each other close, to soak in reality.
A few minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door.
Tyler's mother peeked through the doorway, eyes swollen from crying.
"You're safe here. Both of you. Goodnight... And don't run away again. Please." She whispered.
"Okay," Tyler says. "Goodnight."
When she left, silence filled the room again. The yellow-purple kind. Warm and soft like sunshine, even if it was the middle of the night.
Josh tried to stay calm, but his heartbeat quickened.
What if the loop continued?
What if, when he woke up the next day, he was back on the same mattress again?
What if all of this was for nothing, and he was stuck, doing it all over, again and again?
His chest tightened, like a snake coiling around his lungs, scales digging painfully into them.
He wanted to tell Tyler, but he couldn't, too afraid of a paradox of some kind.
He closed his eyes, pressing his face into Tyler's chest.
But all he could see was himself at the funeral again, the blue-black, the fire.
He wanted to say something, but his throat was tight, like a rope firmly holding him in place.
Tears started to form in his eyes, and he squinted, his eyelashes making it look a little not right.
Tyler held him tighter, feeling the tears through his sweater.
"Hey," Tyler said, softly.
"Hey..." Josh responded, trying not to shake, opening his eyes a little more.
Tyler kissed his forehead, shyly.
Josh immediately relaxed and took a deep breath. He really was the only one to make him feel this way, all yellow-purple, safe and warm.
"When I wake up..." Josh sighed. "Please... Promise that you'll still be here."
"Okay," Tyler nodded, with a hint of green-orange. "I promise."
And for the first time in what seemed like forever, they both fell asleep, peacefully.
When he opened his eyes, golden sunlight was spilling from the window.
He stared up at the ceiling, his stomach twisting, too scared to look around him.
He took a deep breath, and he turned his head.
A boy with fawn-brown hair, strawberry-red hands, moss-soft face and warm honey-tea eyes was next to him, smiling at him, pink-red-orange.
They made it through the darkest night.