He was pulled back in. Pulled into the murkiness of a swamp that became deeper and deeper with every passing day and with each struggle to try to escape, he only sank farther into his own mucky mind.
There was no freedom from his new drunken state. Suffocating on the nothingness that consumed him all the boy could do was work from a muscle memory that made Tweek envious of his own body.
Vague ideas danced through his head about the day where he lost his psyche. His mother's blurry face, the burning of his cheeks as salty tears fell from stinging eyes. His heart spilling all, but one, important detail of his life. His memory fizzing in and out of his confession. What he said was uncertain, but his feelings towards Craig, his new friends, his accidental sleep over, the fight, were all there. He was to scared at the time to let his mother know he hadn't been taking his pills, a detail, he now regretted not sharing.
The words that stood out most in his mind, however, where the ones he never said. "I don't want to take these." The distorted woman turned to him as those words came from blacken lips. Then, there was nothing. Like a film that makes an abrupt end, leaving the viewer with no idea on how the movie ends.
But Tweek did know the ending. He lived it every morning when his mother woke him up, pills in one hand, a glass of water in the other. There was never any retort, just an exhale of defeat, before he took his mother's offering. She was only trying to help after all.
It had been three weeks since he lost control of his being.
His first week on the pills was the hardest on him physically. Unable to hold anything, even coffee, down, he spent a good fraction of his day curled over whatever could hold the stomach acid that came from him. His parents let him miss a couple of days work, to let his body get used to the new medicine. When it took longer than expected, and they needed his help again, they told him he needed to wait until he got home before he could have food or drink. Not that anything looked appetizing to him anyways.
After just one week, even with his mind gone to drugs that he didn't need, Tweek could tell that his steps were lighter, his clothes bigger. That didn't change as the weeks went on either. Only one meal a day and living off coffee was enough to make him have to tighten his belt a notch. His clothes already being on the bigger size no one seemed to notice the change. If someone did notice then they didn't say anything to him, or they did he held no memory of it.
Luckily, if that was even the right word to use, his first week on his new regime he was free from school. Only having to reach into his mind to brush his fingers against the coffee orders he had been having to make for years. It was something that familiar to him, something, that even in his state, he could feel pride for being able to do.
But then, the second week came, and with that week came the few days of school before the Thanksgiving break.
Sitting in the passenger seat of his mother's car Tweek looked over her with lifeless eyes. A sympathetic smile at on an empty face as she reached over to pat her son on the head before giving him uneffective pep talk. Giving his mother a slow blink her he opened the car door and left her to drive off.
The halls of the building moved in passing colors, the world around him moving at a faster pace than he could. The noises faded into a quiet mutter as he made his way towards his first class. He was sure that he heard name being called, yet there was no intention to investigate who, or why.
Tweek couldn't have said how much time had passed since he closed his eyes. What could have been seconds felt like hours, but no class ever went over one. Everything to him now was abstract. No person, thing, or concept had shape and it made the boy dizzy.
Still, he had to open his eyes and face the new realities of his world, and with him coming back to his world Token sat in the view. His dark skin blending into the fluorescently lit classroom., another person with no defining outline, or a body to hold it.
With Token came undistinguished words. Tweek could hear him saying something about how he happy to see him back. There was something about the other boys too, but what it was Tweek didn't know. Tweek didn't even know if he answered his friend. He wasn't sure what he would have said if he did. A futile attempt to weave himself back into the blonde's life.
It was the same with Jimmy, Clyde too. Kyle and Stan even tried to come and talk to the blonde, but being back to the zombie like self it didn't take long before the boys left him alone.
His father was waiting for him outside of the school. Tweek wasn't stupid enough to think that it was an act of caring. He was only there to make sure his precious store was taken care of before he could comfortably leave his son alone.
His nights went much like the first week, only working off instinct that came from being a Tweak until it was time to go home and repeat the process again.
Then it was Thanksgiving.
Normally families would gather around each other, telling each other how much they loved one another, or how much they are thankful for. Tweek didn't get that. With his lack of appetite his family decided it would be best to skip the holiday and to open the place they were really thankful for. "It's for the people without anywhere to go." His father insisted, the words piercing at Tweeks heart. He always knew where his parents cares sat, but when he was reminded it still hurt.
The shop was surprisingly busy. People with no place else to go scattered around the chairs, holding conversations inaudible to deafened ears. Figures passed in and out, the sight of the bodiless models moving at their steady pace was enough to make Tweeks stomach churn.
Excusing himself he moved into the back room. He needed to let himself sit for a moment to find what little composure he had. He found a sort of salvation there. The air had a familiar warmth that came with a sense of protection. The only place his mind felt clear. Why couldn't recall, all he knew was in a world where nothing was right, that room was.
Thanksgiving faded into week three. Unable to tell where that day ended and this week began Tweek grabbed onto his head as he woke up. He didn't know what day it was, or when his last real thought was. All he knew was that he couldn't keep up anymore and he couldn't stop the tears from falling.
"I can't do it mom." Tweek admitted, his words filled with guilt. "Please, I can't."
A soft hand found itself running fingers through the wild curls of his hair. Hushing him, she sat next to where her son laid. "You can't what?" She asked her voice more understanding than ever before.
The blonde lifted his head just enough to place in his mother lap. He didn't care if laying on his mom's lap made him a baby, he craved comfort. He needed it. Through huffed breaths he wrapped his arms around her waist. "I wasn't taking them." He said, each word breaking. "My pills from before. They made me forget, and I just wanted to remember something again."
His mother kept running her fingers through his hair. Waiting to make sure her son was finished talking it took for a while to respond. "Tweek, why didn't say anything?"
"I did. You and dad took me back to that doctor and he said it was just a side effect. You guys just listened to him!" She knew that Tweek didn't anything by it when he raised his voice, so she dismissed the loudness of his words in favor of listening to what he had to say. "You guys… You never listen to me. I-I just need you to listen to me for once. I can't take those pills anymore." He squeezed her tighter, his face now pressing against her stomach. "They are so much worse than the other ones. I can't even make out who I'm talking too." Tweek knew that his tears started to soak through his mother's shirt, if she minded she didn't show it. "Not even you…"
Leaning down his mother kissed the back of his hair. "Listen to me. I only ever want the best for you." Her sing songy voice at a whisper. "Why would I keep making you do something that harms you?"
The blonde lifted himself up from his mom. His face puffy and red from his tears. "I don't know." Looking at his mother he could see the honesty that came with her words.
"Go get yourself cleaned up okay?" She said as she stood up, straightened out her shirt that was stained with his tears. "I'll have a cup of coffee and breakfast ready for you my baby boy."
"Thank you mom." He told her wiping the tears from his face. The fogginess of the swamp still clouded his mind, but his mother did something he never thought she would. She pulled him out of the murkiness of the swamp that he was drowning in, and for the first time in three weeks Tweek could breath.
Grabbing a light green sweater, a pair of black pants, and clean underwear Tweek walked into his bathroom. Setting his clothes down on the shelf that sat behind the toilet he turned the hot water of the shower on. He paid no mind to the mirror as he undressed. He didn't need to see how much these past three weeks effected him, the fogginess that remained sitting in his mind was enough to answer that.
Once the boy was cleaned, refreshed, and dressed he went down to see his mother putting the finishing touches on his breakfast. "Are you feeling better?" The woman asked when she noticed her son in the doorway.
"Yeah, thanks." He told her moving towards the table. It didn't take his mother long before she was placing the plate down in front of him, a cup of coffee paired with it. The smell of bacon gave him a weird urge to gag, but still made his mouth water. How hungry he was hit him all at once and he ate everything he could. Granted, it didn't take much to fill his empty stomach, but it was still nice to have a want to eat.
His mother sipped her coffee as she sat down across from her son. There was peace quiet the sat with them as she studied his face. "I'm sorry." She said after a few minutes. "I should have paid more attention."
Wrapping his hands around the porcelain mug Tweek shook his head at her. "There was no way for you to know." She was right, she should have paid more attention but after so many years how could she have know that he breaking? Seeing the worry on his mom's face only further proved that she never wanted to hurt him. Tweek didn't want to see her hurting either.
Bobbing her head his mother went back to her coffee. Tweek wasn't sure if she had more to say and didn't know how to say it, or if she just didn't know what to say. Either way, he didn't really want to keep talking about it so he let himself enjoy the silence.
Unsure of how long the two were sitting there his mom finally spoke up. "Are you ready to go school dear?" The brown haired woman asked getting up from her seat. "I have to head out to the shop soon so get your shoes on."
Tweek bit down on his lip, swirling around the newly poured coffee in his mug. "If you don't mind I think I'd… I'd like to walk today."
A smile grew on her face as she put a loose hair behind her ear. "Of course." She told him, placing her mug in the dishwasher, reminding him to the same before she left for the front door.
Cold air nipped at the skin as he stepped out of house. With each step he moved farther away from the fog in his mind, and back into the worry. A whirlwind of emotion gawned at his gut. On one hand he was overjoyed to have his mind to himself, but on the other, he was terrified at what could come of that.
Shaking off the feeling Tweek reached into his pocket to grab his phone. He wasn't shocked to find there was no notifications. A hint of sadness maybe, but no surprise. In fact, the only reason he pulled it from its enclosure was to see what day it was.
Tuesday.
Shoving it back in his pocket he grabbed at the hair on his scalp, pulling at it. How could he have lost so much time? So many hours gone for what? A ragged sigh let his lips. How much had he fractured the bonds that had just bloomed?
'Shit." Tweek thought to himself, pulling at his hair harder. What if he just went back to being alone. What if his friends didn't want anything to do with him? His phone already showed proof of that. No, only Craig had his number. There was no way the others would have been able to message him. But why hadn't Craig?
Oh god. He wouldn't blame Craig if he didn't want to deal with Tweek anymore. He wasn't even sure if he saw the tall, blue hat wearing boy the day before. What if he had and said something to him that would make him hate Tweek? Did he pass that test? Did he even take it?
Deep breaths. He needed to take deep breaths. It was okay. Craig would understand, Tweek just needed to talk him. The others too. All he had to do was say sorry. They would forgive him. They were his friends after all, and friends forgave each other. "Right?"
As the school came into sight Tweek bit down on his lip, his hands gripping at his trusty travel mug. Nerves stuck though his body like lightening. What if no one forgave him? What if Tweek had told them all to fuck off? What if they said that to him? Swallowing his fear, he marched closer to the school ready to face whatever he had to in order to gain his friends back.
Getting closer to the entrance Tweek saw Clyde standing by foot of the steps, his head moving from side to side frantically. Like he was looking for someone. Before Tweek could get close enough to ask he heard the boy call his name and saw him rushing over.
Tweek could see tears that glossed over Clyde's brown, doe like eyes. Under his nose was chapped from the snot that he wiped off as he came closer. "Tweek." His voice cracked as he spoke. "I know you've been avoiding us lately. I don't know what's going on, and I'm sorry."
Blinking Tweek looked at him. He had been the one avoiding them? Why was Clyde apologizing for that? If anything, Tweek should be the one saying sorry. Without giving Tweek a chance to respond he grabbed onto him and pulling the scrawny blonde in for a hug. His tears felt warm as Clyde's face craned into his neck. "Craig is missing."
