Welcome to this story! Ahead, there's probably going to be lots of violence, insanity, and creepy stuff. So, if that's your thing, keep reading! I'm in a rough patch with my other story, Stripes and Belts, so if you're reading that and waiting for an update, I'm doing my best to think of some ideas. But the only thing I could think about was the structure of this story, so I wrote it down. If you're not familiar with Alice in Wonderland, you should read the book or watch the movie so you know the plot.

By the way, my birthday was yesterday! I'm thirteen now! Woot woot!

Okay, let's begin.

He stared at the board blankly, waiting for something, anything, to jump out at him.

But nothing did. Not the dank, musty air that reeked of sweat and hung heavy around him, not the potted plants in the classroom that had long since wilted.

The words just kept flowing out of the teacher's mouth, endless blabber that could've been used anywhere else for better purposes. Everything around him was toned down, too. Oh, look at that chalk and how it squeaks as he writes. Oh, look at the way the mouths turn in down in disgust as the sound of chalk contacting slate rings through the room. How interesting. But the words coming out of the old, wrinkled man's mouth?

No, the boy thought. He was wasting his life on us, a group of people who couldn't give less a damn.

The teacher, or course, was oblivious. He continued to speak. That endless river of words wasn't going to stop soon.

He felt his eyelids droop in frustration, trying to close, but he snapped them open. The rest of his body groaned in response, but he forced himself to stay awake. No matter how useless and tedious this lecture was, it was still an important part of his grade.

His fingers drummed on the desk absently, the pitter-patter sound coming from the action not distracting him in the slightest. He needed something—anything—to happen. Something exciting. Something different.

Yes, Craig Tucker needed a change in his extremely monotone life.

In that moment, something flitted around in the peripheral of Craig's vision. It was another classmate, of course—the boy he had grown up with. The young man was a blonde, with a rather scrawny build. It was as if the pack of the rest of the boys in the grade had eaten all the meat of good looks, smarts, and normality, and left the runt of the litter with the scraps. His hair was shoulder-length and mousy, rising up in tufts around his head, like a crown of some sort. His clothes were peculiar, too—he wore a button-up every day. The colors and patterns of the fabric varied, but the way they were buttoned never did. The second-to-last button was always done up incorrectly, as well as the third one from the top of his shirt.

But, for a runt, he didn't look too bad, Craig thought.

It was true. The blonde had a certain air about him—an aura that radiated fear and innocence. One that begged for protection. And with those brown eyes? Who could refuse giving the boy all your trust? He was certainly more than willing to give it to you.

Yes, Tweek Tweak was desperate for someone to keep him safe at all times.

Tweek twitched as the old man stood behind his desk, addressing the rest of the class. When they were young and naive, Craig presumed that the blonde twitched due to his coffee addiction—the truth was that the coffee had a calming effect on him, and therefore reduced his tremors. He could never be found without a coffee cup.

Craig scanned over him, trying to locate the ceramic that was seemingly glued to his left palm.

It wasn't there.

The twitchy blonde raised his hand shyly. The teacher's eyes flickered over to him disapprovingly, but he signaled for the boy to go on.

"I-I—" said Tweek, in his small voice.

That was something Craig admired about Tweek—his quiet, hesitant nature. It was as if Tweek didn't want to ruin the balance of life by asking too much. He never asked for anything, though—except for a cup of coffee and a protective arm around his shoulder—which was another trait Craig found intriguing. His stoic, apathetic stance was definitely intimidating to some, he knew. Most of the time, though, he shrugged it off. It was just his personality—anyone who couldn't live with it could go jump off a cliff, for all he cared.

The teacher thought otherwise. He was annoyed by Tweek's shy stutter.

"Yes?" he asked, showing his frustration by crossing his frail arms and rolling his eyes. Craig stifled a laugh. His teacher looked like a teenager trapped in an old man's body.

Tweek's response was almost inaudible.

"What was that?"

Nothing.

"You need to speak up. I'm old, I can't hear anything."

"I said I'm—I'm—"

He looked to his hand for the reassuring cup of coffee, but, when he found that the usual mug wasn't there, he gulped and took in a breath slowly.

"I'm late."

The teacher frowned "What do you mean, you're late?"

"I'm late." the blonde repeated.

"For what?"

"I've got no time for this." Tweek said, fussing around to get his books closed and his notes organized.

It didn't seem like anyone else was getting ready to leave.

Craig's eyes drifted lazily to the clock. The second hand moved at an almost glacial pace. After a moment of interpretation of the number-to-hand ratio (Craig never liked analog clocks) he got the time. 12:33.

His favorite curse word left his lips in a quiet mumble. Then, he returned his attention to the blonde, who was now standing up to leave in a hurry.

"I'm so late..." he murmured almost incoherently as he jogged past Craig, his schoolwork in tow.

The teacher said nothing, just gave him a stare as he left the room, leaving a few pieces of white-lined paper with notes scrawled on them in his wake.

He looked at his classmates, expecting that odd glances from them were imminent. After a moment—nothing.

Odd.

His peers just seemed normal. Token was writing furiously on his pad of paper, trying to ignore the spitballs that were landing in his hair from Clyde, while Kevin Stoley watched the whole scene, trying to choke back laughter. Meanwhile, Eric was doodling absentminded symbols of hate, while Butters tried his best not to lean over, tap him on the shoulder, and tell him to stop. Jimmy Valmer was poking Butters, trying to get his attention for a joke that probably wasn't funny at all. Kenny McCormick sat behind Cartman, feet up on the chair, a small grin etched on his face as he dozed. Bebe and Wendy sat together, giggling and gossiping and making all of the boys uncomfortable. Next to Kenny, in the back row, was Christophe, who was glaring at the boy next to him. In turn, Damien just chuckled, his usual not-exactly-sane smirk playing on his lips. And, if Tweek were still seated, he would be twitching, falling victim to anyone's eyes that ever glanced his way.

Token was the first to stand. To Craig's surprise, he walked right out. Not a word from the teacher, again. He just strode out the door with his usual confidence and sureness. Jimmy took longer to get up, due to his disability, but he followed Token, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

Craig began to wonder. First, Tweek, then Token, then Jimmy? Where was everyone going?

Kevin and Clyde stood up at the same time, grinning widely, as if they knew something Craig didn't. They walked out of the classroom, too, Clyde turning back to glance at Craig before closing the door behind them.

Before the door could shut, though, Bebe and Wendy jogged over and caught it, disappearing as well. Christophe was next, Craig saw. He could see the French boy pull out a cigarette as he closed the door.

Kenny followed, and then Damien, and then finally Cartman and Butters. Craig and the teacher were the only ones in the classroom.

Craig whirled around to see if anyone else was there, but he was alone. The old man just stared at him, his eyes shining in amusement.

"What the hell is going on." Craig said. He sighed at the tone of his voice. The flatness made every question sound like a statement.

"You should go." the teacher told him. "You're late."

By now, Craig was extremely frustrated.

"Late for WHAT."

But before his question could be answered, the man ushered Craig out of his seat and pushed him out the door. Craig looked at him, completely confused. He looked around him, trying to see if anyone lagged behind.

There was no one. The halls were deserted.

Craig sighed and tried to open the classroom door. He found, in turn, that it was locked. He scowled. Now what?

He decided to make the best of his time out of class. Everyone else in the building had to suffer the torture of lecture, so why shouldn't he use the excuse "I got locked out" to his advantage and ditch?

He sped towards the exit doors, already thinking of what he was going to do. He was going to go and buy a full tub of ice cream and eat it outside in the fresh, crisp spring air. He was going to go home afterwards, saying that there was a gas leak and that they got out early. His whole day was carefully planned out in the few moments it took him to get from the glossy wood door to the rusty old one parallel to it.

He shook the handles, but they wouldn't budge.

Craig took a moment to recap the events that had occured in the past few moments. Tweek had left, and so had the rest of his class. He got shoved out, and now he was locked into school with nowhere to go but down the hall to the next grade's wing.

So that's what he did.

Craig stomped down the hall at a steady pace, and realized as it quickened that he could hear something. He stopped abruptly to listen. The sound was light and airy, and strangely familiar. Craig felt a wave of deja-vu set in as he heard the happy laughter. From where it came from, he didn't know. It seemed like it didn't come from anywhere, and that it was just surrounding him. Craig waved his hand around in front of him, trying to see if there was some sort of invisible force in front of him.

Nothing.

Then, as quickly as it had begun, the laughter disappeared.

Craig would stress—the fluorescent lights in the school weren't the best. So when they went out, one by one, he tried his best to stay calm. His peers had left in a hurry. Then he gets locked into school. As he runs down the hall, someone—something—starts laughing. Then the lights go out. All strange, he thought. His subconscious wanted to construct some sort of alibi, some excuse for it all. But he just didn't know what would fit the bill. Could it all be a coincidence?

No. Nothing that interesting could happen to Craig. There had to be some sort of explanation.

Then, a question began to embed itself into his mind.

Where was Tweek?

Craig wasn't afraid to admit—he had developed feelings for the blonde. But who wouldn't? His innocence, paired with his peculiar but attention-drawing looks, made him seem almost irresistible. Also, he had been the first to leave the classroom so suddenly. Where was he going? What was he late for?

Curiosity began to creep in around Craig, replacing fear.

"Hello." he called. "Anyone."

No answer.

He kept walking, not knowing where he was going, but not caring. He bumped into nothing, to his surprise. With each step, the air grew lighter and fresher, and less compressed and recycled. It almost felt as if he were taking a walk outside. However, the darkness around him grew deeper, until he couldn't see anything.

"Hello..." his voice and footsteps seemed to echo as he continued onward.

Suddenly, Craig felt his face collide with something. It was firm, but soft at the same time. Like carpet. This, too, seemed familiar. But in the complete darkness, his senses were impaired. He felt blinded by the pitch-black around him.

Craig jumped when he heard a voice come from up high. Way up high.

"Hello?"

He felt himself relax after he realized who it was.

Tadaa!

Did you like it? Hmm? I'm going to try this new writing style, where the characters of South Park are metaphorically the characters in Alice in Wonderland. Send me a review with your predictions on who's who! If you want a hint, contact me and I'll give you one :)

By the way, let's get this cleared up:

I don't own South Park. It belongs to Trey and Matt, the two guys who deserve Nobel Prizes.

And I don't own Alice in Wonderland. That belongs to Disney and Lewis Carroll. (I think.)

Okay, that's done. Please review! I love them so...