Valentine's Drabble Thingy 2

=Story Two: Statistic=

Over 75% of suicide attempts are because of relationship problems.

Tweek didn't know what percentage of said suicide attempts happened on Valentine's Day itself, but he could guess it was a quiet a damn lot. What day makes people with relationship problems, from being unable to find love to being rejected or left, the most depressed?

Fucking Valentine's Day.

All the cute couples walking around arm-in-arm, people receiving roses and gifts and flowers, hearing the words 'I love you' everywhere, all around you but never directed to you. Seeing the guy you like with someone else. Getting rejected by the guy you like. Being ignored by the guy you like.

And you don't just like him. You love him with all your fucking soul, all the love you can muster from that tiny little fist-sized heart pumping blood through your chest. And what do you get in return?

Sneers, insults, glares, disgusted looks, people avoiding you, rumours spreading that are made worse because they have that smidgen of truth in them, the knowledge that he doesn't love you and he never, ever will.

Three years. Three years he had watched from afar, giving little secret Valentine's and wondering if he'd ever guessed who they were from, whether he recognised the slanting scrawl in which he'd written the words, always leaving the 'from' completely blank, no question marks, no 'anon' or initials, just a blank space.

Last year he'd plucked up the courage to finally admit to all the tiny little hints he'd been dropping. It took a lot for Tweek to approach him, even in an empty hallway, and give him a shy greeting.

"H-hey."

"Hey."

"I...I-I got you something."

"For what?"

"V-Valentine's Day."

"..."

"I... I really like you..."

"Dude just... don't okay?"

"Bu..."

"No Tweek. Don't go all faggy and horrible on me. You're an alright guy, but honestly, I would never, ever like you like that. Or any other guy for that matter. I don't really want to sound too impolite or... homophobic or anything to you, but gay people creep me out. You never know, they could be checking you out the whole time you're hanging with them. Just... Leave me alone, okay?"

"I..."

"Bye Tweek."

That was the last time he'd been spoken to. His small card and candy tossed in the trash, right before his eyes. A last, wary, disgusted look over his shoulder, and he was gone, and he never came back. Tweek tried to approach and talk to him, apologise or explain, but when he was spotted... whoever was there made a beeline in the opposite direction.

He was bullied. He was pushed out of his friends group. He was alone, and hated, and unwanted and useless.

"You should just die Tweek. Just go die in a corner, don't infect us with your fag-germs."

"Urgh, run, it's the twitchy-queer."

"...he's pathetic really. Gay, useless, spazzy... who'd want him?"

Tweek squeezed his eyes shut and let a few tears fall as the insults echoed around in his head.

Yes Tweek. Why don't you just crawl into a corner and die, leave them all alone and stop infecting them? The cruel voice in his head whispered to him.

"No, shut up, shut up, I don't want you here!" Tweek muttered.

Too bad Tweekers, I'm in your head. I'm not going anywhere... unless you do.

Tweek flinched at the old affectionate nickname. He opened his eyes, looked down again at the raging waters below the bridge, the sharp rocks deep beneath. A tear dropped from his cheek and he watched it fall until it was lost in the foam.

Do them all a favour Tweek. Do HIM a favour. Jump. Jump and fall.

"M-my parents..."

Who are you kidding Tweek? They don't even know about you being gay, and they still don't want you. Imagine what will happen when they find out. What will Daddy do? Hmm?

"No, shut up, it was once, once..."

It was a lot more than that Tweekers.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" the blonde screamed, thrashing his head around.

Lying to yourself won't help you Tweek. Your mother hates you, your father hates you, your 'friends' hate you, HE hates you. What do you have, huh? Nothing.

"Bu..."

Think about it Tweek. He'll be so happy when you're gone. Don't you want to make him happy? Isn't that what you want?

"Y-yes."

So do it. Make him happy.

Tweek took a deep breath. His stomach churned with fear but he swallowed it down, ignored the nausea. He gently unclasped his life-grip on the bridge's railings, until he was teetering on the edge. He looked upwards once more, saw the beautiful blue sky, the sun bright overhead, a few birds flying overhead. A beautiful day. He looked again to the Valentine's note he'd left. The last thing he'd say to the world.

"Goodbye world. Goodbye life. Goodbye South Park."

Tweek looked once more at the water, then closed his eyes.

"I love you, Craig."

Then he let himself fall forwards, felt the wind rushing past his face, through his hair, the thrill of falling, the sound of rushing water fast approaching.

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.

.

Craig knocked on Tweek's door. There was no answer. He sighed, and placed the Valentine's card on the doorstep, then walked away.

'Dear Tweek.

I'm sorry I've been such a douche to you. I wasn't really ready.

I am now. I love you, Tweekers.

Be my Valentine?

Love

Craig'

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=X=

A/N: Uwaaah~

I'm sorry I couldn't help writing a not-so-happy fic.

Enjoy the rest of your Valentine's Days. Read something happy and forget this was ever published xD