Random and slightly pointless introduction: Oh my god! I'm back to emo stories!! Are you worried for my mental sanity, because I sure am. Well, this is insanely similar to my other story "Till It's Gone." Oh, when will I get a new plot? Preferably a happy one. I so need to write a multi-chapter happy story. Haha, that'll happen!
Okay, so I hope you like this story! I'd really appreciate it if you'd review! I'm planning on writing more chapters, but I want to know if I should.
Oh, and the song lyrics... I'm doing that every chapter.
I love this song... Has anyone seen "Treasure Planet?" That's where it's from.
Warning: Suicidal themes and swearing.
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I am a question to the world
"Suspended?" my mom screeched, throwing a glass onto the ground. It shattered countless tiny pieces. "Eric, that's the sixth time this year!"
Not an answer to be heard
"Mom, I'm sorry, I-" I tried to explain, taking a step away from the broken glass.
Or a moment that's held in your arms
"Don't excuse yourself! Craig is in the hospital, and his parents are threatening to take you to court for assault!" she yelled, throwing down a chair violently, making a leg snap off. "Why the fuck would you do this, Cartman?"
And what do you think you'd ever say?
I flinched when she called me Cartman. Only people who hated me called me that. She always called me Eric... "I... Mom, Craig he-"
I won't listen anyway
"No, I bet I can guess what he did!" she snarled, her brown eyes glaring at me. "He probably called you fat, didn't he?" Her face twisted into an awful sneer.
You don't know me
I backed away from her. "Mom, no, Craig-"
And I'll never be what you want me to be
"I don't care what you have to say anymore!" she shouted, slamming her fist on the wall. "Why couldn't I have a son like Stan, or Kyle? Hell, why couldn't I even have a son like Kenny?"
And what do you think you'd understand?
My eyes widened and I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. "You... you don't mean that, Mom..."
I'm a boy – No, I'm a man
"Like hell I don't!" she snapped. She took a deep breath and calmly picked up the glass and the chair. Then she turned to me and straightened her hair and her shirt.
You can't take me and throw me away
I looked up at her. She was slightly blurred out by the tears that were clouding my eyes.
And how can you learn what's never shown?
"Get out, Eric. You aren't my son," she murmured, looking at the ground.
Yeah, you stand here on your own
"But Mom, I-" I tried to say.
They don't know me
"GET OUT!" she screamed.
'Cause I'm not here
I looked up at her. I searched her eyes for some sort of affection, any sign that she cared, any at all. Nothing. I sighed sadly and walked to my room. I gathered up everything I could in my old suitcase and I walked to the front door. I turned back to my mother and looked at her for a moment. "Craig, he called you a whore and he said that you'd sleep with anything if it gave you money," I murmured to her. "That's why I beat him up."
And I want a moment to be real
I walked out the door.
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Wanna touch things I don't feel
I sat down on the bench at Stark's Pond. My pickup truck was parked a few yards away, with my suitcase in the back. I sighed and stared at the water, wondering what I should do. I'm seventeen, and I have nowhere to go.
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Wanna hold on and feel I belong
Freshman year of high school. Just great. I walked to the front of the school, my backpack hanging limply off one shoulder. I looked around for my friends. Kenny was smoking a cigarette and laughing with Craig and Tweek and Token. Stan and Kyle were happily joking around with their girlfriends, Bebe and Wendy. Butters was with Clyde, both of them in casts, and both of them crowded by girls asking them what had happened.
And how can the world want me to change?
I sighed and sat down on the stairs by myself. I shouldn't bother trying to talk to anyone. Why would somebody want to hang out with me anyway?
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They're the ones that stay the same
I tentatively knocked on the door. I hadn't really talked to him in a while, but it was worth a shot, right?
They don't know me
Kenny opened the door and raised an eyebrow. "You know what, Cartman, I'm not in the mood right now for your shit. Fuck off."
But I'm still here
He slammed the door in my face. Dejected, I stood there for a moment sadly looking at my shoes. All I wanted was to hang out with him... I missed him. He was my best friend, basically my only friend. And now he hated me. I guess I couldn't exactly blame him...
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And you see the things they never see
I stood awkwardly in the cafeteria, scanning the room. No one wanted me to sit with them, I knew that. They had all grown spines when we got to high school, and now that we were almost done with tenth grade, I knew no one tolerated me anymore.
All you wanted I could be
I sighed and looked around one last time. Chatter filled the room, everyone was talking animatedly with their friends. Lucky them.
Now you know me and I'm not afraid
I slipped out of the huge room full of people, all of whom hated me. I sat on the ground of the boy's bathroom, in one of the few places that wasn't wet and ate my lunch there.
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And I want to tell you who I am
I sat cross-legged in the snow by Stark's Pond when I heard noises near me. I turned to see Butters walking with his hands in his pockets.
Can you help me be a man?
"Oh, h-hey Butters," I said, smiling hopefully.
They can't break me
He looked down at me and blinked. He bit his lip, clearly not wanting to talk to me. "Yeah, hi... And now, um, bye..."
As long as I know who I am
He scurried away quickly. I turned back to the water and let out a sad sigh.
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They can't tell me who to be
I was in the library, finishing up some homework, and I saw Kyle walk in with about six books in his hands. I walked over quickly. "Hey, Kyle! Need some help?"
'Cause I'm not what they see
He struggled to see who's voice it was. He raised an eyebrow through his glasses that were almost falling down. "I'm fine,"he replied, his voice dripping with the familiar childhood hatred.
Yeah, the world is still sleepin'
I nearly flinched when I heard his tone, but I shook it off. "You sure?"
While I keep on dreamin' for me
"Like I'd trust you with anything of mine," he sneered. He walked off, purposely smacking his shoulder painfully into mine.
And their words are just whispers and lies
I rubbed my shoulder gently and watched him stalk off.
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That I'll never believe
I lay in my bed and glanced at my clock. It was two in the morning. I sighed deeply. No one liked me, no one could even bear to be around me anymore... It's like no one thinks I'd ever be anything but an asshole. They're sure that I haven't changed since elementary school, and they're sure I'll never change. I felt so useless... Life had nothing in store for me.
And I want a moment to be real
I'd never felt worse than I did right now. I had no love in my life, no friends, no hope... I'll never even amount to anything. My grades were slipping. Trying to work hard was so pointless. I'm not smart. I'm not strong. I'm not talented. I'm nothing special at all.
Wanna touch things I don't feel
For the first time in a long time, tears escaped my eyes. I cried myself to sleep.
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Wanna hold on and feel I belong
I missed school whenever I could. I skipped classes, I faked sickness, anything to stay away from that hellhole. And every time I was at school, I got a detention for some reason or another. Anyone would say that I was going through a rebellious faze or some crap like that.
And how can they say I'll never change?
A rebellious faze. What does that even mean? No, I just stopped trying to do well, or stay out of trouble. I'd been doing that for my mom, but no matter, what she was never satisfied with how I was doing. She'd always come home to say something like, "Did you hear? That Kyle boy got an award for an essay he wrote. If only you were smart!" or "Did you hear? Stan Marsh is the quarterback for the football team. If only you weren't so fat and more athletic!" or even "Did you hear? Kenny McCormick has a painting that won a contest! Why aren't you artistic?"
They're the ones that stay the same
It was always the same. I wasn't good enough in anything. I was pathetically below average.
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I'm the one now
I walked to my car, my vision slightly blurred by the remaining tears in my eyes. I pulled out a notebook and a pen and wrote several paragraphs. I ripped out the page and folded it in half. I wrote "IMPORTANT" in big block letters and placed the paper underneath the branch of a tree, weighing it down with two rocks.
'Cause I'm still here
I walked back to my car and pulled a black scarf out of my bag. I tied it into a noose and pulled my suitcase over the the branch that the letter was under.
I'm the one
I stood on the suitcase and it wobbled under my weight. I tied the other end of the scarf to the branch and uncomfortably slipped my head into the noose.
'Cause I'm still here
I blinked out a last tear and it slithered down my face. I knew exactly what I was doing.
I'm still here
I kicked the suitcase down.
I'm still here
And there I hung, my life slipping away from me, in the center of my very own personal hell.
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SO how was that?
I feel a need to clarify, Eric's "very own personal hell" that he's hanging in the center of happens to be *DRUMROLL* South Park. I figure you realized this, but just in case...
QUESTION OF THE DAY! Should I continue or just leave it at that?