It had been a month. A whole month since Craig and Tweek had stopped being friends. Tweek knew it was going to happen, he was the one who started to go and hang out with Stan's gang, after all, but he still felt like the hatred-filled glares and loathing words Craig gave him thereon after were uncalled for, unexpected, even.
He wasn't sure when it happened, but he found himself getting gradually more and more jealous of his old friends. He always tried to look like he was having much more fun than them, always trying to make them wish they had him back, like old times. It was hard of course, since his new friends were complete douches, but he tried.
The last part came out wrong, He still cared for his friends, but it felt like a bad, mutual breakup, where after the two lovers would try to make the other jealous. He wasn't sure if it was just to be spiteful, or if he just wanted them to want him to come back. They never did.
Tweek wasn't surprised by this fact. He constantly had fights with them, prior to his departure, and although sometimes it wasn't his fault, it still kind of was, due to him always starting the fights. He couldn't help it. He knew he made dramas out of the slightest misinterpretations, and blew things out of proportion, but that was just his personality.
So, it only fuelled his unhappiness when his friends got mad at him about it, bitterly arguing with him about his need for coffee, or the taboo home life Tweek never talked about, yet was evidently affecting him. When they said something that triggered Tweek's meltdowns, and failed to calm him down, they got annoyed, complaining that if Tweek would just let them inside, they would know what the hell not to say. But Tweek couldn't.
He remained trapped in his own nightmare.
They all knew there was something seriously wrong with Mrs and Mr. Tweak, each boy in Tweek's class having run in with them once or twice, but they had no idea what was going on behind scenes. Mr Tweak had always remained self-centred, literally dismissing his son's presence, ignoring him, whilst Mrs Tweak…
Much like his father, Mrs Tweak had never cared much for Tweek, but when he turned five, another thing turned. A line was crossed. It became full blown hate, for reasons Tweek was constantly told. It was screamed into his ears… and beat into his skin.
He never really cared why his mother did what she did. He didn't want to know the exact reason, but he guess it was to do with her frustration at having to manage a coffee shop on her own - Mr Tweak was barely there - that caused her to take it out on her son. The Tweaks never had handled stress well.
And then Tweek fell in love. With who else, but Craig Tucker. He remembered the many nights he had sobbed over it, desperately trying to tell himself it wasn't true, he hadn't fallen for his ex-friend - it was just a crush… But every morning, when he arrived at school, and he just saw Craig, just saw him, he knew he was madly in love.
He started to put everything in context. All the competition he had started, all the jealousy he had tried to stir… It was all directed at Craig.
He wondered when he had started to feel these emotions. Had it been when they were still friends, but he passed it off as strictly platonic? Or had it been when they had stopped being on good terms?
Tweek took a sip of his coffee, then dropped the cup as the scent of floral perfume glided through the room.
Tweek stirred, and looked around with half closed eyelids. He felt a wetness underneath him, and on his skin, and he stared at it, realising it was blood. He was lying in a pool… of his own blood. His eyes searched the pale surface as he looked for the source. There were many of them. His body, naked, for some reason, was littered with dozens of cuts, burns and crimson patches of skin he knew would soon bruise. He looked up, his vision somewhat bleary, and saw the culprit.
"I hate you." He heard the words before she spoke them, and then the darkness began to pull him in once again, but he knew this time it would keep him there. Yet, Tweek couldn't be gladder. No more would he love the one he couldn't have…
A dark figure looked upon the scene, overlooking the silhouette of a dark-haired teenager kneeling next to a dying boy, crying with no shame at the sight of his unresponsive love. Death chuckled, walked away, and made a mental note to discuss plans with Fate. Craig Tucker would soon die, too, he vowed.
You see, Death wasn't always bad. It gave you second chances, no matter what people ceased to think. When you're pulled back seconds before you get run over by a car, or an antidote or cure is created just as you were about to be lowered onto your death bed; signs of Death's true kindness.
Not only that, but he exchanged lives. When a person killed another, he took their life and passed it on to someone else. He was kind like that.
Normally, he would give the life to a fresh soul, and bring it to life on earth, but he decided, instead, to give the life to a victim of a killing that wasn't his own. The child was named Tweek Tweak, and though he could not revive him, the normal definition of giving a dead person another life, he gave him a second shot at happiness. He gave him a good life, in Heaven, with the one he died thinking about.
Death wasn't always good. He let couples be happy and healthy for a little while, let them be consumed by their love for eachother, then pulled the carpet out from under their feet, seizing them by cold, diseased hands, or a elderly, dying brain. But, just once, he was.
Death was a major Creek fangirl, didn't you know?