The human mind is truly the scariest thing of all. One moment, you could be thinking of rainbows and puppy dogs. The next, you could be wondering where you could hide the body of that chick that you brutally murdered.
You could be just about to fall asleep, when all of the sudden, your brain decides to think of the demons in your closet. You could imagine creepy spiders crawling up your spine and crawling in your ears and mouth.
Craig Tucker knew this all too well. The mind is a fucked up place. If you don't know that, you don't survive. His mind wasn't like the average person's mind. His was the mind of a mentally insane person. He didn't know he was insane, nor did anyone he knew. Only you and I knew. Well, for now.
Craig sighed softly, glaring out the car window. Another road trip. Another "fresh start". It wasn't his fault. At least, that's what his parents claimed. It was just time to move on from that town. That's how it always worked.
They'd spend six or so weeks in a town, then move on. It always worked the same way. They'd move, get their things unpacked. Craig and Tricia would enroll in school, make some friends. Correction, Tricia would make friends, and Craig would get enemies, acquaintances, and, of course, bullies. That's how high school works.
After making friends, they'd hang around and be absoutely dreadful-, sorry, ecsatic, for the rest of their time there. Of course, it always ended the same way.
Craig would snap. He'd get in a fight, or he'd do worse. More often than not, someone ended up missing. Now, nothing was for sure, but it always seemed to happen when Craig was around. Whenever someone pissed him off just enough, they'd be gone.
Craig often thought about those kids. A sly smirk fell across his face as he the ideas rushed through his head. However, the smirk, along with the thoughts, vanquished when the car pulled to a sudden stop.
"We're heeereeee~!" Laura, Craig's mother, sang cheerfully, opening the passenger door and hurrying out of the vehicle. She'd only seen the house once before, and it was only quickly. She never got much say in where the family moved. "Welcome to South Park, Tuckers!"
The dark haired teen groaned in annoyance, already knowing it wouldn't last. He reluctantly climbed out of the car, pulling on his backpack. It was the only thing he ever bothered to bring along anymore. However, his mom brought more for her lovely son. She always cared well for her children.
The noirette, dressed in black skinny jeans, a white t-shirt, and blue hoodie, looked up at the house. He ran his tongue over his braced teeth and crossed his arms. The house wasn't too shabby. Neat and large, one could even say fancy. Perhaps the best that they'd ever stayed in. So far.
Tricia, the youngest of the family, bounded out of the car. Her orange/reddish pigtails bounced around as she gleefully took in the sights around her. She, for one, had always enjoyed their moves. It seemed they'd always moved to new, fascinating places. They'd never been to Colorado before, so it was nice for a change of scenery. "Wow, it's so pretty! Look at the snow!" She kicked a pile of snow at her brother, only to be met with the middle finger, which she returned with a smile.
Craig rolled his eyes, brushed snow off of himself and started inside. "Dibs on the bigger bedroom." He yelled back to his sister, adjusting his backpack and hurrying up the stairs. He burst in to a room, which luckily happened to be a bigger room. His sister was huffing and puffing by the time she'd reached the room. She certainly wasn't out of shape or anything, she just had a tiny body and small lungs.
"You suck!" She huffed, kicking his shins and starting to the next room. Her room was considerably smaller, but not too small. Not like it was a closet or anything. She tossed the bag she'd brought up with her to the side, laying down and rolling around on the fluffy carpet.
Craig rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile at his little sisters antics. He may be mentally crazed, but that doesn't prevent sibling love. Usually.
He went over to his window. The ledge appeared to be big enough to sit on, which he found nice. He could spend nights gazing out the window and plotting.
Across the way, he spotted a bizarre looking blonde. He appeared to be twitching and spazzing out like a crazy person. Not Craig's type of crazy, monotonous and physically plain. No. This kid had hair going out in fifty different directions. He looked like he had brightly coloured bandaids covering his arms, and fingers, which were tugging at his honey blonde hair. He looked as though he were on meth.
The blonde looked as though he were looking back at Craig, though the second the noirette made eye contact with him, he opened his mouth, most likely in a scream, and disappeared from sight. He ducked down and slowly inched out of the room.
Craig clicked his tongue and turned back, unpacking his bag, and the couple of boxes his mother had stealthily placed in the room. He was surprised that she'd managed to do it soundlessly. He'd grown used to his mom doing that.
Nonetheless, his sapphire eyes glanced around the room, mentally noting where everything should and would go. He began unpacking his stuff, scoffing when he came across the stick on stars his mom always seemed to have. He pressed them on to the ceiling above his little window seat, smiling at the sight.
He assisted his father in bringing in and setting up the beds and whatnot, unpacking the bigger things, such as televisions. After that, he made his own bed, fixing up the blankets. Hey, a sociopath can be a neat freak too. The noirette grabbed an excess blanket, tucking it in to the small nook the window seat provided.
Glancing out the window again, he spotted the blonde once more. This time, the blonde was oblivious, as he was facing away from the window. He was facing in to his room, where two taller figures, a man and a woman, who Craig assumed to be the twitchy kids parents, were standing. He wanted to be nosy and see what was happening, but he had better things to do. He sat on the window seat and stared up at the press-on stars.
"You have no power over me." The smaller boy hissed, though this definitely wasn't true. He'd been in this pyscotic kid's possession for quite some time at that point. The small boy, who's name is and was irrelevant, was growing quite weak. He'd never regretted anything more in his life. Who knew that high school bullying could lead to abduction and what was verging on murder.
Craig scoffed at this, tutting and shaking his head in denial. "Are you sure about that?" He asked, his finger gently trailing along the other's sharp cheek bone. His white shirt already had a few drops of blood on it. A shame, really. He'd liked that one.
It wasn't the first time Craig had been in the same situation. It was always unfortunate when someone chose to pick on Craig Tucker, but he wondered what he could really do about it. He didn't tease himself. Didn't give himself swirlies, or make fun of his braces. No, that was their choice. They're mistakes. They were the ones who had to pay.
The human mind is truly the scariest thing of all.