Author's note: Apologizes for the lack of update. I had writer's block. Enjoy.

It's funny how things work, you know? One minute I'm with my friends in Florida, the next, I'm sitting in a classroom staring at the snow falling outside. I couldn't consentrate lately. I kept spacing out and thinking about all the crazy things going on in my head. I guess I had a good reason to worry, but still, I felt like I was cutting out on my responsibilities. My school work was mediocre, I rarely left my house, and I can't remember the last time I did a chore. I'll be trying to make that up after school, I agreed to meet with Kenny, Butters and Stan at my place.

I was a little hesitant about it, but I figured that it couldn't do any harm. The bell ringing snapped me out of my daydream and threw me back into reality so quickly that I nearly jumped out of my desk. I sighed and calmed down a bit. I had been so on-edge lately, it's probably the lack of sleep getting to me. I was looking forward to taking a nap when I got home, since my project partners wouldn't be coming over until after dinner. I picked up my bag and waked into the hall.

"Craig?"

I turned around quickly and looked towards the voice to see Clyde. Hadn't he gotten a clue yet?

"Oh uh. Hey, Clyde." I said, still trying to come back to reality from my daydreams.

"How are you and your parents doing? We haven't heard much from you lately." He shuffled uncomfortably.

I really wasn't in the mood to shoot the breeze with Clyde, but I felt like cutting things short might make him suspicious. Although I wasn't doing anything to be suspicious of, I had this strange feeling that Clyde was snooping, or spying, maybe looking after what I was doing a little too much. His stare made me uncomfortable.

"Oh, we're alright. Mom's been buying a lot of new houseware for the kitchen and stuff, that's about it. She got this new expresso machine thing and it maes all kinds of fancy coffee. Mom doesn't even drink coffee." We both chuckled, "But I have to be going, I'm working on the project after school."

I don't know when I became the world's greatest actor, but I feel like he was pretty convinced that my life was as normal as it could possibly be at this point.

"Oh, dude, hold still, you've got a bug on your shoulder." He said, grabbing the strap of my backpack. I heard a weird noise and felt him pull, he made a flicking motion and backed p with a smile, "Got it, you're good."

"Alright, thanks.. I'll be going though, see you later!" I said with a wave.

"Oh alright, well it was good talking to you, feel free to stop by whenever." He said with a smile, giving me a pat on the shoulder and walking away.

Even though it was the long route from where I was going, I took the other direction, since it was safe from any awkward conversation.

Thud.

Well, maybe.

"Hey Craig, are we still coming over at eight?"

Oh, it's just Butters. But so much for no more awkwardness. He was shaking like a leaf, which was even out of character for weird 'ol Butters.

"Butters, is something wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost, man." I said, tilting my head and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh-oh, it's just those big fella's from the football team again, they uh-.. They took my binder." He said with a disappointed face, "Cartman can be such a- uh, douche."

I gave him a slight punch on the shoulder, "It's okay, dude, don't worry about it. I've got all the notes at my place. I'll see you at seven."

"B-but I thought you said," He stuttered.

"Oh right, eight. I'll be there, promise." I said, running off.

I swear if I run into anyone else, I'll die. At this point I just wanted to go home, take a nap, see Stan and work on the project. See Stan. I've been thinking about Stan a lot lately, and Kenny. What's up with Kenny anyway? He's always completely gone in just about every way possible. He must be on drugs or something. I know I saw beer cans on his floor when I was at his.. "House".

I got to my house and walked in the door. No one was home, all the lights were off. Since my mom was always so worried about me, this was strange. She never was away past four, and if she were, she would have left a light on. Maybe she just forgot.

I slipped my backpack over my shoulders and went to set it on the floor. Suddenly my hand felt like it was on fire, and I dropped my backpack on the floor and turned on a light. What the hell? My hand was bleeding, not a lot, but enough to notice. I went to the kitchen and washed off my hand, wrapping it in a dish cloth.

I picked up my backpack carefully, examining it. There was a shiny metal sliver sticking out of the strap. It was a razor. Who the hell would do that? It didn't even make any sense, I'm usually really weird about leaving my bag alone, it's always really close to my desk.

Craig. He had pulled on my strap earlier trying to get a "bug" off of me. Wait, wait. Would he actually do something like that? Craig? He's been nice to me since I got here, I don't know why he would do something like that, because it's not something I think anyone would consider a prank.

Thinking I was just being paranoid, I shook my head and started baking some starter recipes for the project. I didn't want to wrap my wound yet, so I just held onto the dish cloth while I cooked. I baked three different sample cakes, all about the size of my hand. One was chocolate with coconut, one was chocolate with peanutbutter and the last was chocolate with chocolate chips. Since stan and I were really the only ones having any luck with the project, we had decided that a cup of each in the recipe would be sufficient, although for the samples I had to significantly lower the amount. I thought I had done a good job. I may even bring up the possibility of adding a small amount of coconut to any recipe we decide on, I'd grown to love the taste, not having really tasted much coconut before.

It was about seven, so I had another hour. I sat down in my living room and laid back, I figured it would be time wasted if I didn't at least try to catch up on lost sleep. I sighed, tried to relax, and closed my eyes.

I heard laughing, and I couldn't breathe.

I was in a hallway, a school hallway, and the light from the windows was blinding. Everything was a braison gold and bronze. The floors were checkered, the walls were lined with tape from past student projects, long returned for the summer, and on every door there was some kind of decorative wreath. It wasn't any school I remember being to, it was small and it looked like there was just the one hallway we were walking down. A single hallway with a lot of doors, most of them open, and the longer I walked, the more I could see into them. They were all empty. I looked around to see that I was alone, but when I closed my eyes, I could hear a hallway full of excited students. Everything sounded like it was underwater. Most of their voices ran together into a flurry of random, blurred words and noises, but what I could make out were exclaimations of summer vacation.

My lungs began to burn, so I took a hard gasp for air. As soon as I inhaled, I was rushed with colors and sounds so clear, they sounded as if they were coming from inside my head. I nearly went into shock from how sudden and loud everything became. I suddenly became excited, about summer and about the end of school. However, every time I passed a classroom, out the windows were snow. I could feel my excitement fading as I came to the realization, there is always snow in South Park.

I stopped at a locker. 217. I looked down at my body. I was wearing a puffy blue coat.

"Craig, you're going to miss the bus!" I heard someone yell, "Craig!"

And as I looked from the classroom window back into the hallway, I stopped in my tracks. I could see them. Students. And they were all staring at my with a posessed hatred.

"Craig." They all said. "Craig."

"Craig."

"Craig!" I heard, I sat up sharply, swinging my hands and flailing.

"Dude chill! Come on, it's fine, you're fine! Wake up!" Stan's voice said.

I sat up from the couch, panting, still swinging a little. I opened my eyes and looked around. I was in my living room. Butter's, Stand and Kenny were all staring at me with strange expressions.

"I- I'm sorry. I fell asleep." I said awkwardly.

They were all still staring at me.

"Dude, you're bleeding eveywhere." Stan said worriedly, "What did you do?"

I looked down and saw that I had dropped the dish cloth, I must have started bleeding more from stress or fear, or something. He's right, there is blood all over me. I even flung some when I was swinging my arms. I put my free hand on my head. I was sweating profusely.

"I need to go take a shower, I'm sorry. You guys chill out here, the cake samples are on the table." I said, still out of my head.

Stan nodded, but kept his worried expression. I think that's the first time I've ever seen Kenny have any kind of expression. Regardless, I needed a shower. I was sweaty and bloody and I needed help waking up after that.

As I stepped in the shower, I noted, this is the second time opening my eyes to see blood running down the bathtub drain.