Ch 1 Alone

It was about eleven P.M. when I got home, the house was dark and no one was there. No one was ever there anymore. Once I had turned fifteen my mother no longer saw the need to, as she likes to put it, "baby" me. She supposedly had better things to do with her time, but I knew better. I knew what she really did in her free time. I've always known. How could I forget when everyone in this fucking town reminded me every chance they got? It wasn't what they said, either, they would never say it out right. It was their eyes, always looking at me with pity and disdain. Eric Cartman, son of the whore. The problem child. The mistake.

I walked over to the couch residing in my living room and sat down, staring blankly at the TV in front of me. I wasn't going to turn it on, every time I did, some crap TV show about a loving family would come on and I would end up feeling more alone then I already was. So I would sit on the stupid couch and wait. Wait for something that would never come.

I turn my attention to the door. I stare at it long and hard, wishing- begging, even, for someone to come walking in. But no one ever does, and no one ever will.

I glare at the door with contempt in my eyes. I'm alone. I'm always alone. Why would tonight be any different? It's not my fault I'm here, it's hers. So why am I the only one suffering?

I hate her. I hate her so god damn much.

Why doesn't she love me?

My chest begins to ache.

Don't. Don't you dare cry, Eric. Don't break just because she's not there. You're alone. So what? You are always alone, get over it. You've done it a million times and you'll do it a million more. She doesn't matter, so stop letting it get to you.

I get up and carry myself up the stairs to my bedroom. I barely make it to my bed before collapsing. Sleep washes over me quickly, and before I know it, I'm out cold.