Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.

Craig's coming today, Craig's coming today!

I wake up feeling instantly excited, taking out the picture of Craig and studying it for the millionth time. All the boys look at me from their cells, still pretty tired. They're all clearly annoyed that I woke them up … by jumping around my glass room like a little girl.

Bradley looks at me from his cell, confused. He's not a morning person. I instantly calm, no longer excited, more embarrassed.

"Tweek… what are you doing?" Bradley asks me, making me feel even more uncomfortable.

"No-Nothing… I-I'm j-just e-e-excited."

"… Why? We're in a loony clinic. Last time I checked, that's not exciting." He's looking at me that way again. The mocking way, as if I'm a four year old child. He always does it.

"… N-No r-reason..."

"Fine, don't tell me."He always does this too. When he's mad, he wants to be left alone. Doesn't matter what you say, he'll still be mad.

"D-Don't talk l-like th-that…"

"Piss off, Tweek."

"B-Bradley!"

"WILL YOU TWO JUST SHUT UP? I'M SLEEPING! RESPECT MAH AUTHORITAH!"

"… A-Authoritah?"

"CHILDREN! TIME TO WAKE UP!" A nurse comes in ringing a bell and yelling, making most of us groan and try to go back to sleep.

"Why? It's only seven! We're meant to get up at eight!" The guy across from me (with the watch) yells. I've forgotten his name. The nurse glares at him for back chatting.

"You're to get up earlier today so that everything's more organised for 'Bring Your Kid to Work Day'! And don't talk back to me!" Blah, blah, blah.

We're all one by one let out of our cells, some of us handcuffed. When it's finally my turn to be let out, the nurse handcuffs me. I'm beyond shocked. The last time I was handcuffed was about seven months ago, for being too anxious.

"W-Why a-are you h-h-handcuffing me?" I try to break out of them, which is, of course, impossible. For me anyway. The nurse grabs my shoulders to prevent me from causing a scene. Sometimes, when a patient resists having handcuffs, or tries to escape or something, the other patients, including me a few times, start a riot, which isn't that good in a hospital with sharp objects and little kids. The nurse thought I was trying to start something.

"Mr Tucker requested that you were handcuffed all day today, because he wants you to meet his child later."

Oh … my … God. I really am going to meet Craig later! I instantly still, not wanting to ruin my chance to meet someone from the outside, apart from Eric's friends. I start to get the jitters from excitement.

"Tweek, are you feeling okay?" Bradley asks me as we're eating breakfast.

I'm sitting with him today because I'm handcuffed. The separate all of us when we eat. The ones who are handcuffed, like Bradley and I, are pretty much branded as 'the super crazy ones' and have to sit at a special table, where they don't allow us to have knives and stuff like that, so they have to cut up the food for us. We don't even get let out of our handcuffs when we eat, so we can't stretch our arms that wide. Although it's nice to sit next to Bradley, I hate this table. Bradley's not normally cuffed when we eat, but I think the staff wanted to take extra precautions with him today, like with me.

"I-I'm fine." I reply as I try to lift my spoon with freaking handcuffs. The kid across the table from me smiles.

"You'll get used to eating with those, don't worry."

"I-I'm n-not here p-permanently, d-d-dumbass!" I snap at him, probably hurting his feelings. It isn't that loud, but the nurse hears me. She must've been standing near our table.

"Tweek Tweak! Language!" I glare but don't protest. I continue to try and eat with handcuffs with about half the patients staring at me. They heard the nurse yelling at me. Eric broke the ice a few seconds later.

"PAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Eric starts to point and laugh at me, triggering the suppressed laughter in almost every kid in the room, which is a lot. They all start laughing at me, which is a completely humiliating experience. Everyone's doing it now, even Bradley, Thomas, and the Watch Kid. I start to shake in anger. My temper is at its peak.

I look around, trying to spot the nurses … for help I guess. Foolish of me. As soon as I see them, I know they're not going to come to my aid. They're just standing there, witnessing my trauma.

Some of them are smirking.

I know something that'll wipe those smiles right off their … their mother fucking faces. Before I know what I'm doing, I stand up, everyone still watching me, run over, and punch the one that started my misery.

Eric Cartman. Sock him right in the jaw. Part of me feels happy ramming my fist in his laughing face. The other part… realises what I'm doing. Of course, the nurses all come to restrain me, which they can't do. I'm still so pissed that I keep hitting him, which is kinda hard with hand cuffs limiting my hand movement.

One of the nurses must have a walkie-talkie or something, because these huge emergency security guys come and lift me off of Eric. By now, everyone's cheering at me beating up the fat ass. The security pin me down and unlock my hand cuffs, then relock them behind my back. They then pull me up and drag me out of the room. I'm so screwed.

I heard kids that cause riots, fights or any kind of scene are taken to a scary place that causes nightmares. I've seen people come back from it and they all looked pretty shook up. I don't think those kids caused trouble ever again.

Sure enough, they're dragging me to a part of the hospital I've never been allowed to walk in. I get sort of a negative aura in this place. The security don't look too happy to be here either. When we finally reach our destination, they take out a key, unlock the door, and throw me in. Before I have time to recover from the fall, I hear the door closing and locking behind me.

I open my eyes and look around, seeing where I am.

Oh.

My.

Fucking.

God.

I'm in… I'm in a… I'm in a padded cell.

This is crazy. I'm not that insane, am I? I know I'm not normal, but I'm not that nuts, I can't be. I mean, all I do is getting super nervous, stutter, and like coffee a lot. That can't make me this insane. If I'm this crazy, having to be put in a padded cell, then now I finally understand why my father's left me here for so many years. Now I finally understand why it's impossible for anyone to love me.

I'm this insane.

I think I was in there for about five hours, which is pretty kind of them. I hear that some people in other institutions are locked in these things for weeks. I think the only reason I got released is because Mr Tucker bribed them to get me out to meet his son. He's pretty good at that.

And so that's how I'm now walking, still in handcuffs, down the hall to his office, being escorted by a nurse … that's a little freaked out. She thinks I'm gonna jump her or something, after what I did to Eric. Well, I don't regret it. He deserved every bit of it. Anyone who hurts my feelings, or anyone's for that matter, deserves hell.

After what feels like a lifetime, we finally get to Mr Tucker's office. I've never been inside before, since we have our weekly sessions in a special room with coloured walls and cushions and stuff like that. I think it's meant to make people like me feel safe to talk to doctors. It actually has the opposite effect and just plain scares the crap out of me, along with most of the other kids, including Bradley.

I'm cuffed behind my back, so I can't knock on the door. The nurse rolls her eyes and does it for me. She then walks away swiftly, not wanting to be near me anymore, like all the other nurses. I'm probably considered to be one of the most insane kids in this hospital by the staff, apart from the depressed kids like Bradley. The doctors and security aren't that fond of me either. Even Mr Tucker seems uncomfortable around me. So now I'm in a bad mood and Craig's inside the room waiting to meet me. That's why this is gonna be fantastic.

Mr Tucker opens the door and gives me a nervous smile. I respond by twitching. I shake and twitch a lot by the way. There are very rare times when I don't do it.

I can tell Mr Tucker is nervous about his son meeting someone like me, from the look in his eyes. I'm a little disappointed about it, but I'm no longer interested in meeting the Tucker child. All the staff are from the outside. Mr Tucker's staff. Craig's the staff's son. To put it shortly, Craig's practically staff. I've officially decided I don't like staff, so, I don't like Craig. Mr Tucker sees I'm still clearly miserable from the events that went on this morning.

"Tweek, please, not now, when my son's here." He whispers, glancing behind him.

"H-Hey, I c-c-can't just m-magically ch-choose when I'm h-happy and not h-happy." I hiss, trying to look over his shoulder and spot where Craig is. Ok, maybe I do wanna meet him. Just a little bit.

"Please try, Tweek. Craig's not in the best mood either; and I want you to make a good impression."

"Who g-gives a s-s-shit? He c-can c-come meet m-meet me o-on a w-w-weekend." Mr Tucker gives me a look for swearing and then sighs.

"Look Tweek, he can't just come whenever he wants. We live three hundred miles from here, so I can only go home once a week; and he can't just come whenever he wants, because of school. Now, I want you to make a good impression so that he tries to visit more often. I'm not as good as convincing his mother as he is."

"… W-Why me?"

"Because I like you Tweek. I know that you're a good person and I know you're not as crazy as people say you are. I just think you and Craig could be great friends if you tried." I sigh. Might as well.

"O-Okay then…" Mr Tucker sighs in relief and finally lets me in.

That's when I see him.

He's lying on the couch looking bored, almost asleep. As I thought he would, he's wearing that same blue hat as the one in the photo. I can't understand how he's related to Mr Tucker. He looks nothing like him or his mother (I've seen a photo of her). I think he's got black hair. He looks exactly the same as in the photo. Perfect.

As soon as he sees me, he stares. I'm not surprised. The good thing though, is it's not a judging or wierded out stare, like many new staff give me and other patients. It's purely just a normal, curious stare. He must've given a signal to Mr Tucker or something, because Mr Tucker immediately says.

"I'll leave you two to it, then. Be nice Craig, don't cause trouble Tweek." He unlocks my handcuffs and then walks out the room, leaving me alone with a total stranger from the outside; who I'm pretty sure I don't like. Okay, I admit I like the way he looks, but not actually him.

He gets up and circles me, studying how I look. I must've been quite a sight. I look crazy to begin with because I shake and my hair's really messy, but I'm wearing white clothes like every other kid here, and I've got some tears stains on my face 'caus I cried a bit earlier in the padded cell. I'm not made of stone.

"White uniform, huh?"

Oh God. His voice. His voice. I love it so much. I just do. The dullness of it. I'm still trying to process it, so he thinks I'm ignoring him.

"I see. So you're gonna give me the silent treatment?" He asks in a cold sort of way. I cringe, not wanting to blow my chances of a friendship with this guy.

"N-No! It's not like that!" He seems surprised at how desperate I sounded. Or maybe it was my high voice.

"I…" He quickly composes himself. "I feel sorry for someone like you."

"…W-Why?"

"Being a nut. It must suck being locked in a glass cell and having to wear the same white clothes every day." I would protest, but everything he's saying is true.

"Yeah… it's n-not that great."

"That's funny."

"What?"

"My dad said you had a severe stuttering problem, and that's one of the reasons you're locked up in this place, but you don't do it that much." He's right. I didn't stutter as much as I normally did, just now.

"I do u-usually."

"Your real name is Tweek right?"

"… Y-Yeah."

"… Cool name." My head snaps up. I didn't expect that. I suddenly feel relaxed.

"Thank you. Yours is… pretty boring." He … He smiles.

"I know. You know what? I like you, Tweek. You're honest. That's a good quality. Especially for someone in … your category." My … God. He likes me! He likes me! He likes me! VICTORY! Someone in this world does like me!

"You ok?" I snap out of my thoughts, to see Craig waving a hand in my face. I spaced out. Son of a bitch, I never space out.

"I'm fine. I'm… having a rough day."

"Oh yeah. I heard some kids talking about you."

"What'd they say?"

"One kid said something like, 'Hey, did you see Tweek jump that fat kid? It was awesome!', then another said 'Yeah, but I heard a rumor trouble makers like Tweek go to padded cells'. I think that's what they said. So did you really go to a padded cell?"

"Yeah, but… I'm not a trouble maker Craig. Or I try not to be." I expect an insult.

"Yup." I stare at him. "I can tell by looking at you. You're a nice person. My dad was right about something for once." I open my mouth to say something, but my eyes wonder to something on the table near a kettle.

"GEEZUS! COFFEE!" I run over and stroke the jar it's in.

"… It's just co… oh wait, you're addicted to it, aren't you?" I let out a heavy sigh.

"Great, now you're not gonna let me have any, are you?"

"No, let a rip. In fact, make me some too. We can be rebels together." He smiles evilly. Creepy yet fucking cool.

"Okay!" I say happily, then reach to … uh …

"Um … How do you make it?" Craig sighs.

"First of all … you turn the kettle on." He exaggeratedly pushes a button on the electric kettle, making sure I see.

"Then we wait for the water to boil."

"How long does it take?"

"A few minutes." I sigh and tap my fingers on the counter impatiently. Man … I finally get some coffee and I have to waiting for the freaking water to boil. After an eternity of Craig studying me and me tapping the counter, a little red light finally goes off. FINALLY!

"YES! IT'S DONE! … What now?"

"Now we spoon the coffee in the mugs." True to his word, Craig spoons the coffee in.

"Uh, you drink it black?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Oh, God no! Way too bitter. Nah, I put milk in."

"You've never drank it, have you?" Craig freezes.

"… Since you're an honest dude, I'll be honest too. No." I suppress a smile. Craig gets some milk out of the fridge and pours it in his coffee filled mug.

"Here." He hands me my precious cup of coffee. I hold it up like it's sacred or holy, in a joking way. Craig laughs. I can tell he hasn't done that in a long time.

"You really like it, huh?" I don't answer him. I'm too busy guzzling the contents in the cup down. Craig watches with a painful and surprised look on his face.

"I-Isn't that awfully hot?" For a second, I wonder what he's talking about. Then the pain hits me in the chest.

"OW, FUCK!" I grab my chest as if I'm having a heart attack. Craig holds out the kettle.

"More?"

"Yeah!" He smiles and pours me another cup. Just as I'm about to take a sip, as well as Craig, Mr Tucker opens the door and catches us in the act.

Aw, fucking hell.

"… Craig… Are you giving Tweek coffee?"

"Uh… yeah?"

"Craig, that's specifically what I said not, to do!"

" … I forgot." Craig says dully.

"Craig, you're in a mental institution. The only reason I actually brought you here today was that I trusted you enough to meet Twee- did you just flip me off?"

"No."

"Yes you did!"

"No I didn't."

"Yes you- there you did it again!"

"I didn't."

"Why'd you do that?"

"I dunno." Mr Tucker sighs. I would too. There's just no talking to a son like Craig. It's a good thing he likes me.

"Look, just don't do it again … and give me that cup of coffee Tweek!" Before I can do anything, Mr Tucker snatches the mug away from me. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

"Tweek, I'm very disappointed in you. I was hoping that we'd gotten over your addiction for this crap-

"If it's crap then why do you drink it every morning?" I interrupted. I'd heard that every adult does that from Bradley.

"Stop being a smartass! And thanks a lot for teaching him all this, Craig."

"Welcome."

"Watch it, young man. Anyway, Tweek, I'm highly disappointed in you. If you want any hope of getting out of here, you have to get over that addiction, as well as your anxiety and stuttering!" That's when I realise it.

"I'm not stuttering anymore! See!" Mr Tucker's mouth drops open.

"You… You aren't! What? How? Why?"

"Your welcome." We both look over to Craig, who's standing leisurely with his hands in his pockets.

"You did this, Craig?"

"I guess." Mr Tucker's mood immediately changes. It's like a transformation.

"… That's great! You'll have to visit more often, son. Tweek seems to like you a lot. Isn't that right, Tweek?"

I nod hesitantly. I don't want to sound like some kind of fan girl or … fan boy or whatever. I'm sure Craig gets enough of them at school, what with how good looking he is. Well, I think he's good looking anyway. A dude can observe.

"Craig, I think it's time we leave. We have to get you home before dark. Your mother doesn't want you to be tired at school tomorrow."

"…Ok." Mr Tucker allows me to come with them to the end of where patients like me are allowed. It happens to be the room where kids like me get daily shots and medicine. When we get to the door, Craig turns around to say goodbye. Most of the kids waiting in line, including Eric, Bradley and Thomas, ironically, stop and stare at Craig. Well Eric isn't staring. More like glaring. They must know each other somehow. Craig isn't taking notice of all the eyes on him. I don't think he's even noticed their even in the room.

"I'll come and see you tomorrow, Tweek." Mr Tucker opens his mouth to say something, but Craig gives him a look that says 'Don't fuck with me'.

"…Really?"

"Yeah. I'll come see you whenever I can, in my free time."

"Why?"

"Caus' I like you Tweek." He smiles as he says it. He said it again. He said he likes me. He likes me. Not that way of course, but it's the second best thing.

"… You're a nice person Craig." I say observantly.

"You are too, Tweek." He gives a small smile, though barely there. "I'll see you tomorrow then." Then the craziest thing happens.

He hugs me. It's quick, but still, a hug. Before I can even comment, he waves and walks off with his father, leaving me standing dumbfounded with some nurse handcuffing me.

"So Tweek, who was that guy?" Bradley asks me as we're getting ready for bed. I think most of the boys in the huge area of cells pause to hear my answer, since Bradley spoke so loudly.

"He was Mr Tucker's son."

"… Mr Tucker's son hugged you?"

"Yeah." I say as I get in bed. I hear Bradley go 'Jesus Christ!' The lights have already been switched off by the nurse, so it's really dark. Well, it is for us anyway. They always keep the rooms with cells in really bright. Not to mention everything's white in this godamn hospital.

"But he's… he's an outsider!"

"He's different to the staff and Eric."

"SHHHHH! He'll hear you!" Some kid hisses from about three cells away. I look in alarm at Eric's cell, showing him fast asleep in his bed. I give a thumbs up in the air, making every patient except Eric, Bradley and I sigh in relief. I doubt anyone would want Eric to go into one of his tantrums this time of night. What just happened was a type of signal we all have. Thumbs up means 'It's alright'. Thumbs down means 'We're in trouble'. Middle finger means 'I'm in a bad mood so don't fuck with me'. Stuff like that.

"Different how?" Bradley asks in an interrogating manner.

"He's … He's nice." I don't know how to properly describe it.

"Tweek, I told you this two years ago! They pretend to be nice to gain your trust! Don't fall for their tricks."

"But he's not like that! He even gave me coffee."

"He did?"

"Yeah!"

"… Well, I still don't trust him."

"You treat them as if they're aliens, Bradley! They're just like us!"

"They are aliens, Tweek! And they are NOT like us! Have you forgotten everything I've taught you these past four years?"

"What are you? My father?"

"I pretty much am! Your real father doesn't even love you enough to come and visit!" Ouch. Struck a chord there, asshole.

"You shut up about him!"

"No, you shut up, you stuttering brat!"

"Stop treating me like I'm younger than you are!"

"WILL YOU BOTH JUST SHUT UP! EVERYONE WANTS TO GO TO SLEEP!" A kid about seven cells away from us yells. I sigh.

"Look Bradley, I'm sorry." I whisper, trying to make amends, even though I'm not sorry. The only reason I'm doing it is because I don't like to go to bed angry.

"Whatever. You can go marry this Craig for all I care." My cheeks flush at the remark. Marry Craig? What a dream. Wait what?

I just considered marrying Craig. Well, I do like him. So I like the way he looks, speaks, and acts, and I carry a picture of him around in my pocket, but that doesn't mean I love him. It's just an inoccent crush, that'll disappear soon. Within a week, I bet. No doubt about it…

Then again…

Shit. I like guys.