| Chapter Three – Screwed Up |

n o v e m b e r  t w e n t y  n i n t h

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❝you don't want to step off that roller coaster all alone❞

**

Arden didn't know what to do when she found Teller asleep on her legs, tear tracks on his pale, ghostly face.

"Teller?" She whispered. She got out of bed and almost placed the comforter on him, but realized that it would go right through him.

He looked so young when he slept. She smiled and headed down to the kitchen. Her phone read 6:23AM. She was on time.

She drank tea in silence, wondering about Teller's tearstained face. She had never really believed that someone as strong as him could cry. It was dumb, but she never had grounds to believe otherwise.

She locked her bathroom door and stepped into her shower, only then realizing how dumb she was to lock the door. He could pass through the door.

She quickly got dressed and stepped out. Teller was now awake, his fingers brushing over the books on her bookshelf.

"Teller?"

He turned, the tear tracks now gone. "That's my name," he said, giving her an almost-alright smile.

"Are you okay?"

"Um, I'm about as fine as a ghost can be."

"Okay," She said, not wanting to push it.

**

Teller had let Arden leave for school by herself because he wasn't the Teller she knew, and he didn't want this Teller to ever be someone she knew. He walked a long way from her house, all the way to the cemetery where he was supposedly RIP-ing.

There were flowers all over his family's plot. As he traced his mother's and sister's names he wondered if they were like him, wandering around in limbo, trying to find their peace.

Or were they already at peace?

He sat down, criss-cross applesauce. "Mum?" He whispered. "Mum, can you hear me?"

Maybe it was his imagination but he swore on all he had left, that he heard her soft voice answer.

'Yes, baby?'

"Mum, I'm screwed up."

'I think that's hereditary,'

He let out a small laugh. "Mum, I don't want to be stuck here."

'Find your peace, then.'

"How?"

'Make her feel loved.'

"Quinn?" He asked, shoulders sagging.

'No, baby, not her. Someone else. She needs it, and she deserves it.'

"Who?"

He got no reply. He asked again, and again, but the only whisper greeting him was the wind.  

Frustrated he picked up a rock and threw it at the glass picture frame of his family.

And it shattered. The glass shards went right through him. Part of him wanted the glass to cut him. Something to prove he was still human. Something to prove he could still be hurt. Something to bring him back.

He wanted to bleed, to feel alive.

But not a single scratch decorated his pale skin.

He picked up the shards and slid them into his pockets for some unknown reason.

He walked away. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

**

Teller sat on the curb of Weiss Avenue, the scene of the accident. The skid marks were still black as night on the street. He moved to the middle of the intersection and just stood.

He could almost remember the way he had been so angry at his mum as he turned the car. The way he had been distracted.

What if he had just agreed with her?

What if he had been focused?

What if he had listened?

There were so many ifs.

If he could just change that one moment.

Would he be alright?

Would they be alright?

A car zoomed through him, anchoring him to earth.

**

A/N

Hey, sorry about the short update... Teller being sad is really hard to write cause I love him so much *cries*
Anyways, hope you enjoyed the update (early and everything).

Thanks for reading (and voting, I hope). See ya on the flip side!

xx climboutthebackdoor

PS. Typos.

◎ u p d a t e : 05.25.2016 ◎