'When things go south, breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth' was what one of my many therapists had taught me. Over the years, thanks to my anxiety, I'd had a lot of them. However, they never really helped. I needed - no, craved - caffeine to sate my feelings of anxiousness. It was the only cure. My hands were shaking and my heart pounding, as though at any given moment it could have erupted out of my chest, but I had to remain calm. I had to stay strong. My friend was, potentially, in danger. Why else had fashion-conscious Clyde, of all people, left his expensive designer coat out in the middle of the woods? Cradling the coat in my arms as though it were an abandoned baby, partly for comfort and partly because my fumbling hands could no longer hold anything securely, I began to search the area. Nothing looked out of the ordinary or, apart from the decreasing light as night fell, any different from earlier. The lake's water was still motionless, thin layers of ice undisturbed by its edges, and there were no signs of any disturbance whatsoever. Despite this, the whimper persisted. I began to follow it, deeper into the woods, in hope of finding Clyde.
Past the opening for the lake, and by this point a fair distance from where we had set up camp, the woods became far more dense. The trees surrounded me on all sides, looming intimidatingly above like hungry predators, and no light penetrated the thick foliage. I was struggling just to see a few metres in front of me, pulling Clyde's coat closer and closer to my chest, as though cuddling it could somehow resolve the troubling situation. Leaves crunched underfoot as I swatted away at plants and bushes which obstructed my path. Screech! Suddenly, there came a winged rodent, swooshing past my head in a blur and making me fall backwards in shock. I landed on my back with a thud, groaning almost instantly from both shock and pain. What was I doing? Was I insane? The woods sprawled on for miles and, in the dark without a map or any sense of direction, there was little hope of actually finding Clyde - only getting lost myself, instead. I decided to turn around, hoping against all odds that he was somehow still back at camp, and that this was all just some nightmare. My body ached, partly from the fall and partly from the anxiety weighing down upon me, so I walked slowly and thought things through. Clyde was still at the camp, listening contently to Token's ghost stories, when I left. Even if he had followed me shortly after, for whatever reason, how did he manage to beat me to the lake? It made no sense!
Wincing with the worsening pain, I eventually made it back to camp. It only took a few seconds for Craig to register a look of concern and run over. The concoction of pain and worry was deadly, pushing me over the edge when I realised that Clyde wasn't there. "C-Clyde," I stammered out, wiping away a few tears from my cheek. "I f-found his jacket... then there was some noise, but I c-couldn't find him."
"Hmm. He said he was going to find you. We should go look for him," remarked Token - ever the smart, rational and calm one. It annoyed me when people could stay calm so easily. They didn't have a 'rat' gnawing at their nape, weakening them, making them smaller. They were my friends, sure, but it didn't stop me feeling jealous. I sighed, only faintly such that the others didn't hear it, and then nodded in agreement. "Right," he began, looking at Jimmy, presumably contemplating how the crutch-dependent teen could possibly navigate the dense woodland. After a few moments, however, we were each assigned roles: Token himself was to search further in the woods, Jimmy to wait near the lake in case Clyde came back for his jacket, and I was to stay at camp. Though I felt selfish for doing nothing, between the pain from the fall and my anxiety over Clyde, it really was for the best. I was a wreck. Meanwhile, Craig was having none of it; he refused to leave my side to help Token, even when I interjected to the contrary."No. I'm not leaving you, alone. Not when you can't even run properly."
Jimmy and Token left. It was just me and him: my Craig. That very guy I had fallen for in the fourth grade, only now taller, with some stubble and muscle, was sat opposite as we shared the fire's warming glow. His black hair glistened, almost like marble in the orange hue of the fire, which crackled soothingly against the faint sounds of nature - crickets, chirping birds, and so on. In any other circumstance, one where our friend wasn't missing, such a scenario would have been romantic. "Tweek," he cooed, shuffling over to me to wrap an arm around my shoulder. I pushed my head into his chest, tears streaming down my face, and closed my eyes to reminisce. Perhaps I was being melodramatic, but Clyde was my best friend. Whereas Craig was more than a friend, Token could be an annoying 'smart-ass' sometimes and Jimmy had a propensity for trouble, such as when he'd started taking steroids to win the Special Olympics, Clyde was just always there and always doing the right thing. He really was my best friend and the thought of anything happening to him filled my heart with dread. What was even wrong? The unknown was what made it particularly frightening.
"Do you remember when we were kids? When we used to play spacemen? You were always terrified," he stated, monotonously and so matter-of-factly that I knew it wasn't a serious question, for how I could I forget? After all, we were Captain Craig and Spaceman Tweek: venturers of space, saver of worlds, explorers of the stars! Well, he was the 'saver', whilst I was more the frightened tag-along. Sort of like Shaggy in the old Scooby-Doo cartoons, which were yet another distant memory of my childhood. Things seemed so much simpler back then, when our biggest concern was sledding, video games, or whatever the weekly fad was. I looked up at the very stars which we once ruled. They twinkled brightly, each one representing another galaxy, and each of those with its own cluster of planets. Perhaps, somewhere out in the infinite abyss, there were others like us. Perhaps, unlike our childhood games, there really was nothing - only barren wastelands filled with 'space dust'. Regardless, it was sweet of him to try and calm my nerves - not that he had to try. He was freaking Craig Tucker!
I murmured an 'I love you' into his chest and, just like that, I was dragged into our tent. Soon, our bodies were entwined in one another; our passion knew no bounds. Amidst our pleasured groans, however, there came the sound of footsteps. Leaves could be heard crunching underfoot, as whoever, whatever, approached - nearer and nearer and nearer. "Guys! You need to come, quick!" Then, however unprepared for it we were, we ran.