TROUBLED SOULS (Part 2)
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK CHARACTERS MATT AND TREY DO I ALSO DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SONG/BANDS MENTIONED EITHER.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello again! Its been…what, 167 days since I did that other part to this? Yeaaah, April 28th I believe, but anyways, I'm sorry for such a delay. I have been working on school and other small short stories that I've been caught up in. I will try to release parts every week, ja or nein? Anyways, to those of you who'll actually read this…enjoy!
Loud honking filled the polluted air, echoing throughout the highway. "C'mon douche, move out of the way!" A raven-haired male screamed from an old beat-up truck.
Loud screaming music blasted throughout the truck, as the bass began to pick up, the traffic followed suit. The music began to gradually get softer until no melody at all was heard. A brunette sat in the passengers seat, not minding the sudden guitar picking up, just sitting contently eating some greasy fast food. The brunette looked at the raven-haired boy and shrugged, rolling down his window and letting his arm hang out it. The brunette looked at the raven with his matching brown eyes and frowned. Reaching over the crappy half-broken cup holders, he grabbed the unlit cigarette from the dark haired boys' lips and then repositioned himself back in his seat.
"Hey, what the hell?" The raven growled as the brunette shrugged. "You know I don't feel comfortable with you smoking and driving, Craig." The boy referred to as Craig sighed and nodded, turning his attention from the brunette back to the crowded street. "Yeah, I know." He pursed his lips in a pouting manor and grumbled, sitting all the way back in his seat. Not being able to handle another awkward silence, the brunette spoke up again. "Hey, I appreciate you driving me over to Bebe's today." He interrupted his own statement to take a bite of the greasy taco he held in his hands. "I would've drove there myself but my car isn't done yet." Craig nodded and flicked his wrist. "Shut up Clyde." He mumbled, glancing at the pack of cigarettes that lay on the middle-section of the truck. Clyde eyed them as well, and then they both met each other's gaze. "Craig, I said no, you know how I feel-" The raven ignored his friends' plea and lunged for the pack of American Spirits cigarettes. "Craig!" Clyde grabbed the wheel of the car and tried to keep it steady on the road. "Heh." The raven chuckled, both hands on the American Spirits as Clyde's were steering for him. "This isn't funny!" Clyde said, tears welling up in his eyes as he tried to keep his glare on his friend. "Oh jesus, Clyde don't be such a nine-year-old." Craig mumbled with an eye roll. "Well we could crash!" The brunette said, wiping the tears with his red short-sleeved shirt. Craig took hold of the wheel again and shoved the cigarette pack in his pocket subtly. "Thank you." Clyde said grumpily as he looked over to the side of the road. "Here's her house." He said tapping on the glass, pointing at the house with dark red paint.
Of course, Bebe's window was open, revealing her still purple wall and bed sheets. Bebe looked outwards into the distance as if trying to find something.
"Thanks again, dude." Clyde said opening the truck door and jumping out, taking his crumbled up trash with him. "Yeah, whatever, just don't let it happen again. I hate driving you places." Clyde chuckled and slammed the car door, Bebe noticing his presence and rushing out of her room to greet him.
The raven began backing up his truck into the street, the pulled around the curb and slammed on the accelerator. He sighed and grabbed the cigarette pack out of his pocket, looking at it for a couple seconds, as if studying it. He then threw it over to the passengers seat aggressively and shook his head.
"Not right now." He said to himself, taking one hand off the half-ripped leather to grab his phone from his front jean pocket—well, attempting to anyways.
It didn't exactly work out as he'd hoped, instead of grabbing his pocket, he grabbed a tear in his jeans, causing it to tear even more. He growled and put his hand back on the wheel, not even giving it a second try, knowing it wasn't going to work anyways. Instead of turning into his short brown house, he continued driving past it, past the entrance into South Park. This would definitely be a longer ride than he had hoped.
| | An hour ½ later | |
Craig finally arrived at North Park, trying to navigate his way through the busy traffic that was usual on a Friday evening. Groaning, he turned the station from Linkin Park to something a bit more…calming. Upon finding a song by Katy Perry or Train, he decided to go with Train, given he wasn't much for pop culture. It was only about ten more minutes till he reached his destination, all he had to do was hang in there for ten more minutes, then he could see him again. Five minutes passed and the artist changed from Train to Eminem. Craig really did like the guy, but he wasn't in the mood to listen to sexist comments and complaints about betrayal, drugs, and so on. Deciding there was nothing good on, he turned on his phone and selected the song he listened to on that night. Biting his pierced lip, he shook his head, his straight black locks moving around with him. Deciding this was a bad idea, his finger lingered over the skip button. Craig wanted to skip it, but there was this other feeling inside him, a feeling of regret if he didn't. He let the song go as far as the chorus, then quickly pressed the skip button before he burst into tears too soon. Backstreet Boys came up, and Craig had exhausted all his other options and left it. After what felt like years, Craig had arrived at his destination. He turned into the gravel parking lot and parked the piece-of-shit-truck, quickly grabbing the American Spirits pack, an envelope, and a book, the title read; "Unbroken" on the spine in golden print it said; "Laura Hillenbrand".
The raven grunted as he jumped out of the drivers' seat and onto the wet gravel. Craig just assumed it had just rained, but then saw the sprinkler next to where the patch of green grass began and realized.
"Should probably move my truck." He said matter-of-factly, but then shrugged, un-wrinkling his white shirt that read in big red print;
"AIN'T NO REST FOR THE WICKED"
and then continued onwards, trudging into the green, dewy pasture. As he got farther and deeper he began to see grey, faded tombstones with names like Nancy, Katie, Josh, Howard and even Eric carved into them. Craig smiled, if only that was Eric Cartman, then there would be a reason to celebrate here. Hell, Craig would dance on his god damn grave if it really was the Cartman he knew. But alas, that Eric was still living, breathing and functioning; unfortunately. Finally, after he reached row eight, tombstone three, he stopped, giving a heavy sigh. Many ripped papers and cigarette boxes were lying beside the gravestone.
"Nice to see you again." Craig could feel his stomach lurching again, just like that night. "I hope you didn't miss me too much." He chuckled to himself. "It's that time of year again, huh?" He sighed, clutching the envelope close to his chest as the wind blew by. "Hard to believe I only come here twice every year." He said, eyes welling up with salty, bitter tears. "I grabbed this—" Craig placed the book on the dirt mound, placing a medium sized rock over it so it wouldn't blow away. "—You've always wanted to read it, I remember you telling me." He said, the waterworks already starting, God just sitting back to watch it fall into play. "I also—" Craig sniffed, his tears and snot (which he was not too proud about) dripping onto the grass. Craig tried again; "I also brought this, like I always do." He opened the envelope to reveal the yellow sticky notes from three years ago.
Craig closed his eyes, grabbing one at random, then pulling it out. Showing it to the tombstone—as if it'd register what it said –he frowned, then read the scribbled words aloud.
"Sociopath."
He wiped a rather large tear off his cheek and ripped the note to shreds. "Not anymore you're not." He stuttered, holding in a choked sob. "Not that you ever were in the first place." He said, grabbing his hat (that was in fact, way too small for him) and placing it on his chest as he lay down next to the faded grey stone.
The raven pulled out the American Spirits and lit one of the cigarettes, with his pocket-lighter. Placing it between his lips, he threw the box over his shoulder as it landed into the grass with a THUMP.
"You know—" Craig sat up, "—today and the other time I visit are the only times I smoke. You should feel pretty special." He said, hugging his knees to his chest. "Although you were always special to me, you know that right?" There was silence. "I'm sure you do." Craig smiled and rest his head on the side of the grave. "Also…" The wind blew his blue hat a little off his lap, but he could care less. "I love you."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So yeah! That's it for now, lemme know if you want more! I'll try to keep updates on all fanfictions weekly so- yeah! Hope you enjoyed that, I enjoyed/died writing it but meh. Bye for now!