Bad day. Crappy people. horrible chapter.
Ughhh. D: So late.
My neck hurts.
This chapter sucks. Ewww.
Ehhhhh, it's so short. Isn't it? D:
Enjoy this filler, because that's practically all it is. =[
I'm sad now. lol. You wont like this chapter, but read the sneek peak of the next chapter. It's gonna get interesting~!
Bi-polar much?
Breathe, Just breathe.
This was utterly retarded.
What bothered me was the fact I was stuck in this horrible room with Cartman for another hour and a half. It was pathetic. It actually made no fucking sense at all.
I had to pinch myself I few times to make sure I wouldn't fall asleep and dream about unicorns on shrooms. Jesus, get me out of here!
"So Kyle," the woman in front of us with brunette hair began, I flashed a gaze over to her. Letting her know I was listening. And, I was, barely.
I nodded, telling her I had been paying attention, "What angers you about Cartman?"
Was she serious? This is why I hated people like this. Either they ask questions that upset you even more, or they create a problem. It's ridiculous. Why cant they just be normal people for once and explain and actually try to solve the problem that is there, not some assumed issue.
But, that wouldn't be in their job description. I bet they're laughing at us all right now… I swear, I'll kill who ever it was that made up such a stupid 'program' like this.
Once again, ridiculous.
"I…" I lost words for a moment, trying to think. What did I hate about Cartman? Besides the fact he's a rude pig, who doesn't know how to eat properly, there was nothing that really upset me about him. Eh, maybe I should cut back a little on the fat jokes… Haha, no. "He's rude."
"How so?" She asked, pushing her glasses up on her face, crossing her legs and looking over at me with a curious gaze. I hope it isn't always like this. I'd go insane by day three. Hell, am I insane now?
"Well, for starters," I placed a thinking finger on my chin and looked up at the ceiling. I opened my mouth and spoke in soft in slow words, "He's a narcissist. He only cares about himself, he never once thought about others and how they might feel about the things he does and says to them. He hardly ever shows any sign of caring. I bet if his mom died, he'd probably laugh at the funeral, and, frankly, he has no tolerance for anyone but himself."
I could feel Cartman's glare burning holes through me. I must have said something that pissed him off. The woman across from us shook her head and then shifted towards Cartman, "Cartman," she began, "What makes you mad about Kyle."
He gave a quick 'Ahem' noise and sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he spoke. I braced myself, knowing he was going to dig deep into everything. I'll probably look like the asshole. Then again, I practically made him look like one too.
Don't feel guilty, idiot, Cartman deserves this.
There's that voice again. Why did I have to be stuck with a conscious? I would gladly trade anyone without one (such as Cartman). It drags me down so fucking much, which is another reason I hoped to god this would end soon, then I could go back to being myself, Y'know? The kid that just doesn't give a flying fuck about anything. My eyes lifted at Cartman's smooth voice, and he began to talk.
"Well," pause. A long pause at that, "It's hard to say…"
It is? Dude, after so many years of hating each other, you don't have a reason as to why you randomly kicked my ass, insulted me, and called my mom a bitch?
He cleared his throat, "I mean, the biggest reason is because he's a Jew."
I narrowed my eyes and mentally slapped Cartman, if only I could really do it.
"I think another part of the reason would be because no matter how fucked up things can get, he walks around without a care in the world…" This made me look over towards him, curious as to what he would say next.
"What do you mean?" I asked, beating the woman to the point. Good, she doesn't have any room to speak right now. This problem is between Cartman and I. Not her. Not the school. Not Stan, Kenny, our parents, or anyone in South Park.
He faced me fully, "You could have the worst life ever, and yet, you still seem to never become affected by it. You're a robot, Kyle. A pure robot." another long pause, "At least show that you have emotions, the only expression you own is apathetic. You don't have a sense of humor, sympathy, or any common sense. You're apathetic and book smart. You will never make it in the real world. Never."
I stood, peering down at Cartman. "Kyle…" the brown haired woman held her hand out. He had no idea what he was talking about. He has no right. What I'd do to punch him right now, oh, what I'd give.
"I'm apathetic? I have no common sense? That's funny, because right now you only seem to be describing yourself. I'd rather build a bridge and get over something, then have to sit on my fat ass and eat my problems away, like you!" I snapped, pulling my messenger bag over my shoulder walking away. "See you at school, fat fuck." I muttered slamming the door to the woman's office shut.
Once more, I will tell you, this is the most ridiculous thing I've ever witnessed. Cartman will be hunting me down at school tomorrow, I just knew it. I never keep my mouth shut. After all, I have to defend myself right? Because no one else will? Damnit. I fucking hate Cartman.
I need some fucking acid or something.
Should I go on a trip and never come back?
If I'm placed in a hospital my whole life, I'd be safe and healthy…
So why not?
Why not just vanish?…
…To Do list:
Get tortured by Cartman.
Get high.
Get tortured by Cartman.
Get high.
Get tortured by Cartman…
Get high….
Get tortured by Cartman,
Get high,
Have a drug overdose…
Vanish forever.
Why do I let him do this to me?
Is he worth my time..
No.
Then why do I let him devour every hour left on my clock.
Is my time line ending?
Ending Note: wow! D: Very late, not to mention a huge let down. I hate the way this story is going. Ewwwwww. Ugh, I might make another story, which will be super different. DDD: && much better. Lol. My head hurts. Whatever.
Preview of next chapter:
Right, so that's why you stole my gym bag?…
"Just give it back, I need it for the basketball game tonight."
No, it wasn't because of that, I left my pills in there and a lot of other things I would not like Eric Cartman to find, I'd be toast… Not to mention it's great black mail material. Oh god… this is just… just… alright, no more sarcasm.. THIS IS HELL!
"Give it back, now." I ordered, my voice stern and clear. I was serious about this, I needed that bag back. Not only for basketball, but so I can keep my pride as well.
Let me explain, if Cartman find out about my… well, problem, my life will be so screwed. Knowing Cartman, he'd have me do what ever he wanted. He'd force me to either 1) do everything he says (which I'd never do that) or 2) tell the whole school and send me to some retarded rehab center.
It isn't as bad as him going to fat camp, is it?
I felt myself chuckle a bit in my mind, still holding the same serious look on my face. My hand was held out, and I finally broke after waiting for a good ten minutes, "Cartman… Please, give it back." I stepped closer, this time begging him with my eyes. He only smirked and unzipped the bag. I froze. What was I suppose to do? What was I going to do? I needed a plan, and fast.
As he unzipped the bag all the way… I jumped on him, trying to grab the bag back.
He pulled it away, and I reached for it again, snatching it from his hands…
Only, this time I screwed myself over. Everything came falling out.
And I mean Everything.
"Shit…" I looked up from the guilty evidence and towards Cartman. He looked down and then looked back towards me, "Cartman…?"
He smirked…
(See you next time. Hopefully).