So this is what depression feels like.
Not caring about anything but negativity. Wanting to just curl up into a ball and die. Purely hating yourself. Thoughts always locked onto the very thing that caused your misery.
My thoughts are locked onto Craig, Milly, my father, Bradley, and most of all, my insanity. I understand now, why I've been kept here for so many years. I really am mentally unstable. I'm not fit for the outside world and all that social crap. It's no wonder no one in the world will ever love me. That's how it's supposed to be. It's fate.
There always has to be people in this world that belong locked up, because of their minds. I'm just unlucky, and had to be one of them, while Craig's one of the lucky ones, that'll live a normal life, then go to heaven when he dies, and I'll probably go to hell, unless God somehow takes pity on me. It was just a coincidence that two different people like us got to meet, and it was just more of my bad luck that I happened to fall for him. That's my theory of what my life is anyway.
Bradley… he's complicated. He means well, but he's too … non-trusting. Too non-social. Anything from the outside world is considered enemy to him, which, even though I'm scared of anything outside this hospital, I think is pretty stupid. Most of the patients in here would give anything to leave here, including me. It's like a goal for us. I can't remember the reason he's one of my best friends, but he was the one who wanted to be friends, not me. Not that I don't like the guy, he's nice enough, but I just wish I had a friend that would be willing to do anything, just to make me smile.
My father … I'm pretty sure he loves me, even though I'm one of the craziest kids around. Though then again, if he lets his own son stay in a hospital like this for so long, then maybe he doesn't love me. He must somehow care for me though, since he went through so much trouble when I was younger to give me my medicine.
None of it matters though. In the end, I'm still crazy, Craig's still sane and likes Milly, Bradley is still hateful of the outside, and my father'll never want me to come home.
We're all in our cells, after four hours of staying in separate classrooms, listening to some crappy teacher drone on about algebra. I think it's dumb. What the hell do letters have to do with math anyway? Math uses numbers, everybody knows that. It's ridiculous.
The Watch Kid is counting his crayons, probably trying to make sure all the colours are still there, and not taken by one of the nurses. Nurses always come and check or cells for weapons and drugs twice a week while we're all at 'school'. I once had one of my favourite books taken. The nurses seem to somehow find pleasure in stealing precious items from all of us. The bitches. All of them.
Bradley's reading a book and writing notes about it, probably for an essay he has to do on it for English. Lately, he's been doing nothing but studying, homework and essays in his free time. I know him. He's trying to distract himself from something, I just don't know what. Eric's cutting out pictures from a picture book and pasting them in a notebook, just for fun, I guess.
WARNING: SELF-HARM.
… He's using round tipped scissors.
"Hey. Hey Cartman?" Eric stops cutting and looks up, startled by my voice.
"...Can I see those scissors?" I ask darkly, eyeing them almost longingly.
"Why?"
"Well, I've never seen round tipped ones before, being here for so long and all…"
"Oh … alright." He passes me them through one of the holes in the glass wall between us.
I study them closely. They're pink with yellow flowers on. They're round at the top, so you can't stab yourself. The blades are pretty sharp though… to make you able to cut stuff. They're still scissors after all.
I seriously don't know what comes over me. I grab one of the blades and press it to my left wrist, trying to draw blood. I don't get why. Maybe that's what depression does to you. Eric sees immediately, automatically covers his eyes, and starts screaming. He screams so loud that all the kids look up from what they're doing in their cells. They see me and start screaming as well. Bradley finally looks up to see what all the screaming's about. His reaction isn't to scream like all the others. I think he's too shocked to scream. He just sits there with a look of horror on his face as I try to slit my left wrist.
I'm not succeeding. I've cut myself, but it's not even deep enough to draw blood. It hurts either way. Not as much as I thought it would though, which is good. Still, my eyes start to water from the feeling.
The nurses come sprinting in, looking for where the scene that's causing everyone to scream is taking place. They know something bad's going on. Don't act like you wouldn't be freaked out if you were a nurse, walking/sitting outside, minding your own business, then you suddenly hear all the child patients in the hospital start screaming, so suddenly. It's pretty traumatising, the way I would imagine it.
A few nurses soon see it's me everyone's screaming at, and run over towards my cell, followed by the rest of the nurses. There are about eleven of them. One of them stops outside my cell and grabs the keys out of her pocket, fumbling for the right one with shaking hands. I'm still trying to cut myself. I've succeeded in cutting myself deep enough to draw blood. It really hurts now.
END SELF-HARM SCENE
Looks like the pain won't last much longer. The nurse finally finds the right key and opens the door, allowing her and the rest of them to come inside. One of them immediately snatches the scissors from me and tosses them aside in the corner, far from my reach. Another two grab me to stop me from trying to run away. I'm trying to hit them in order to get away; though I know I'm gonna fail. They drag me outside so the boys wouldn't have to see such a scene.
Once we're outside, a nurse slaps me in the face, making me instantly still and stop struggling. I didn't know they're allowed to do that. I hold my good hand up to my cheek shakily. The nurse who just slapped me glowers.
"It serves you right, you little brat. What the hell is wrong with you? How could you harm yourself like that? After what happened to Bradley!" I death glare her. So much that she flinches.
"…T-Take him away."
Two nurses grab me and take me to the room where they give kids shots. Oh crap, are they gonna give me one? Looks like they are. One nurse grabs my wrist and tries to stop the cut from bleeding, while the other puts some kind of liquid in a needle. It's not the medicine they usually give me. I can tell by the colour.
"Stay still." Yeah right. Like I'm gonna stay still in this situation. I tried to kill myself with safety scissors, was slapped in the face by a pissed off nurse, and now they want me to be quiet and take a shot. Bullshit.
"NO! J-JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"
"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU! JUST TAKE THE GODDAMN SHOT! WE NEED TO GET YOU TO HOPITAL AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!" I can see why. The nurse totally failed to stop the bleeding. It's dripping everywhere on the floor, and at this rate, I'll lose too much blood. It's all so much pressure.
"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! I DON'T CARE IF I DIE! THIS IS ... IS TOO MUCH PRESSURE FOR ME! I CAN'T HANDLE IT!"
"DO SOMETHING!" The nurse with the needle yells at the other one, waving her hands frantically. The other nurse looks around confusingly, then punches me on the head. It's so hard that I go dizzy.
"Do it now!" She says. The nurse with the needle nods and, before I can come to my senses and stop her, gives me the shot in my arm. Wow, this shot is different to my usual ones. Usually, it stings for a second, then goes away. This one doesn't sting, but it sort of … aches. What the hell did they give me?
"Why isn't it working?" The nurse with the needle asks alarmingly. The other one studies the bottle and sighs in relief.
"Don't worry; it says it takes a minute to take effect."
"How do you feel Tweek? Woozy or anything?" …
"… aig…" Finally, I've stopped speaking in that voice.
"What was that?"
"… I want ... to see Craig."
"Craig Tucker? He's five hours away and at school right now. There's no way you can see him, especially after what you just did."
"Will… Will I be punished?"
"Of course you will. You won't stay in hospital long." I'm starting to feel tired. Maybe I didn't get enough sleep last night. That happens a lot.
"Will my father come to visit me?" The nurses freeze and exchange glances worriedly. One answers in a shaky voice.
"I think he's busy, Tweek."
"Doesn't he care enough to even visit his son when he's attempted suicide!" I screech angrily, glaring at the tiled floor. It's, of course, white.
"He does care! He just … can't come, that's all." Jeez, now I'm even more sleepy.
"You alright, sweetie?" Sweetie? Man, I can't remember the last time a nurse's called me that. Maybe just after when I'd arrived here. When I still looked cute and half-normal.
"I feel really tired."
"That's great. The drug's working."
Oh.
"W-What the hell did you give me?"
"Just a sedative."
"You sedated me! What am I, a serial killer! I think I can go to the hospital without being drugged! I'm almost ten, for God's sake!"
"Calm down. The drug will help you relax. You look really stressed." Well no shit. I just attempted suicide, retard.
Oh crap, I'm falling asleep. I can barely even open my eyes.
"Yes! It's taking effect."
Nice to know, bitch.
I wake up to see Mr Tucker leaning over me. He smiles when I open my eyes.
"Oh thank God! You're awake." I try to move, but my body's too exhausted. That sedative was something else.
"How long have I been out?"
"About four hours. You'll be allowed to leave here once the sedative wears off." I nod weakly, purposely not looking him in the eye.
"The nurses told me you said you wanted to see Craig."
"…Can I?" I ask in a soft voice.
"No, he's in South Park right now."
"…Does he know?"
"Yes. I called him and told him what happened."
"…"
"Why did you do it Tweek?"
"I'm not entirely sure myself. I just did it." Mr Tucker sighs and rubs his temples.
"I think…" He looks up instantly.
"…I think I might be depressed."
"Why would you be depressed?"
"… I have a lot of problems…"
"What are they?" I glare at him. I'm planning to do the silent treatment thing.
"Tweek, it's my job to help you with your problems." Oh, what the hell.
"…Well, first of all… there's my insanity. Then there's the fact that both Bradley and my father hate me…"
"Tweek, first of all, you're not insane. You have some problems. But if you get rid of them, you're ready to leave the hospital. You've already gotten rid of your stuttering, now you just have to get rid of your anxiety, shaking, and coffee addiction. And Bradley's a complicated kid. He just doesn't trust people, and I don't think he likes the fact that you've gotten so close to Craig… and Eric Cartman."
"What about my father?"
"Your father … loves you Tweek, and don't ever think he didn't, I mean doesn't." I nod slowly, staring at my doctor.
"Why do you like me in particular? You could've let Craig meet any of the other boys, but you picked me."
"… Simple. I knew Craig would like you. He's always finding his friends so boring, and claims life's better boring, but I can tell he was unhappy with his life. I instantly thought of you, Tweek. You're anything but boring. I told him you're a really fun person, and, though he didn't act like it, he was really interested in meeting you." I grimace. I don't want to know that. It hurts me to think about Craig wanting to meet me.
"… How nice of him."
"…"
"…"
"…You're in love with my son, aren't you?" I jump and look at him alarmingly. Holy shit. This dude is smart. Though, he doesn't act like it most of the time.
"I-Is it that obvious?"
"Tweek, I'm a psychologist. I think I'd notice if someone's in love with my own son. And yes, it is obvious." I hang my head and sigh.
"That's why you did it, isn't it?"
"Did what?"
"Attempted suicide. You were heartbroken because he was with that little girl Milly, right?" I give a small nod, remembering the photo of Milly.
"Well, I'm happy to report, she dumped him yesterday during school."
"W-What?"
"Craig told me. When I picked him up early from school yesterday, he told me in the car. He said she broke up with him because she thinks he's 'obsessed' with you. Apparently, all he talks about in school is how he met you, and how 'awesome' you are. She got sick of him and broke up with him. He didn't really care though. He was just focusing on seeing you again. I don't think he loves you that way Tweek, but he definitely does love you in some way. Most likely as a borther, or really close friend."
"Oh well, better than nothing…" I smile weakly. Mr Tucker returns the smile.
"To be honest, Tweek, I'd rather Craig be with you than any of those dumb girls at his school. You're one of a kind… and you're like a son to me. Craig should love you that way, with how generous you are."
That's the kindest thing anyone's ever said to me. Too bad it had to come from Mr Tucker. I still don't like him very much.
"Alright Tweek, I have to go to an important staff meeting. I'm trusting you to go back to your cell by yourself. You'll have to be handcuffed though." Mr Tucker says as he handcuffs me, being careful around my left wrist.
"What? Wouldn't you normally get a nurse to escort me there?"
"We're going to give you more freedom from now on."
"Why do I get such special treatment?"
"Because you are special. It's called special treatment, after all. Look, I really have to go. Just go back to your cell and don't cause trouble." Mr Tucker walks away in a rush, leaving me standing handcuffed in the hallway, kids with nurses walking by and staring.
"Sorry Mr Tucker, but I'm gonna have to break your trust." I start to head in the direction of where he went. What can I say? I wanna know what's so important that he doesn't even have the time to call a nurse for me. Too bad this hospital is like a maze. I turn into a different hall with a million doors. Fuck, which one is he in? In fact, is he even in this hall? All the doors have labels on, thank God. After looking at about eight doors, I see one with 'Meeting Room' on the door. I silently cheer. I can hear people arguing inside, so I lean against the door to hear better. My hearing's pretty good, thank goodness.
"His father's will says he left Tweek's custody to me! Why should you go against his wishes!" I hear Mr Tucker shout. My father's will? What the hell?
"I'm his Godfather! I have the right to take him as my own. If you don't believe me, look at his birth certificate." What the fuck? That's my uncle. I haven't seen him since I was four. At my mother's funeral.
"Will you both just stop arguing? Nothing's going to be solved while shouting at each other. The main focus is that Tweek's father is dead." …My dad's dead…?
"How did he die again?" A doctor I know asks.
"Overdose of caffeine. He drank too much coffee and his body couldn't handle it." Some nurse says.
"Can we get back to the issue here? Custody of Tweek goes to me, his Godfather."
"What about Mr Tweek's will though? It's says he specifically wanted Tweek to be with me if he died." No way. If I'm with Mr Tucker, then that means I'll be Craig's adopted brother. Worst nightmare.
"Screw the will! I'm now his legal guardian! I'm the only blood-related family he has left anyways, apart from my kids. He needs to be with me, though I'm sure he's never going to leave here."
"I deserve to be his adoptive father! I'm trying my best to get him out of here and with a proper family, unlike you, you fucking drunk!" I don't know what to be most shocked at. My father's sudden death, my doctor calling my uncle a fucking drunk, or the fact that Mr Tucker actually swore. I remember Mr Tucker's words earlier.
"... and you're like a son to me."
"I'm Tweek's lawyer, and I recommend you give up custody of Tweek."
"You shut up! He's my nephew, and I own him!"
"I'm prepared to take you to court, but I hope it won't come to that."
"You're gonna sue me? What the hell do you have against me?"
"I had security cameras planted around your home, showing that you get drunk and physically abuse your children on a regular basis. By the way, your children are going to live with their mother from now on."
"WHAT?"
"If you don't want to be arrested right now, you'll hand Tweek over to the person his father wanted him to be with."
"…Fine then. Only on one condition though."
"And what is that?"
"I get to see him once a week. He's my nephew. He deserves to see his family."
"… You can visit him, but he's not staying with you overnight."
"Done." I hear someone stomping towards the door. Shit. Before I can even move, my uncle opens the door and sees me.
"Tweek? Is that you? What the hell are you doing?" I see everyone in the room freeze behind him. Mr Tucker stands up and walks towards the door. He roughly shoves my uncle out of the way and grabs my shoulders. I'm too shocked to even look at him. Give me a break. I'm nine.
"Tweek, what did you hear?" I try to say 'everything', but no sound comes out my mouth. Dear Lord, I hope I didn't go mute again. Mr Tucker reads my lips.
"Tweek, we were planning to tell you tomorrow. Look, your uncle isn't fit to take care of you, and your father said in his will that he wanted me to take care of you."
"…B…But … then…"
"What was that?"
"But then Craig and I are bro…" I can't even say the word.
"I know Tweek. That's why I was concerned that you love him, in that way." Someone behind us clears his throat.
"The papers?" Mr Tuckers sighs dejectedly and turns back to me.
"I have no choice, Tweek. It's what's best for you." He pats my shoulder comfortingly, and walks back in, signing papers that probably make him my legal guardian. I freeze. The staff in the room all sigh and start walking out, some doctors giving me glances of remorse as they pass me. I guess they feel guilty for always treating like I'm Ted Bundy or pretty much any other serial killer.
So that's it then. Craig may love me in some kind of way, but I'm pretty sure he's straight. And now I have to be his adopted brother. If that's how it's gonna have to be, I think I'd rather stay in this institute for the rest of my living days.
"Now get in your cell! Stop causing so much trouble for everyone and just try to get better." A nurse says as she shoves me in my cell. Her voice has a much softer tone than usual though. Perhaps she pities me for all that's happened today.
"Alright, I will. Sorry for causing you all the trouble." The nurse looks shocked that I didn't glare or talk back to her. I'm not surprised. I never apologise for anything. She reaches out. I flinch because I think she's gonna hit me. She definitely didn't do that.
She patted my head and smiled.
"You be good then, sweetie." There it is again. A nurse called me sweetie. I guess that's how they act when you behave. Pat you on the head and call you things like 'sweetie', 'honey', or 'sweetheart'.
I look around. All the little kids are sleeping, but the older ones are all staring at me. Now I know how Bradley felt when he came back from the hospital. Speaking of Bradley, even he's looking at me. God, I just realised I'm such a hypocrite. I remember how I endlessly told Bradley that stuff like suicide and self-harm is wrong, then I do it. I look to my left.
Eric's facing me, but he refuses to look me in the eye. I guess he didn't expect someone like me to be suicidal. Well, that's what you get when you make friends with a crazy person. I search around my room. I smile as I spot the round tipped scissors. I pick them up and study them. They're pretty clean, but on one blade there's a small line of dried blood. I grab a tissue out of a box and rub it off. Eric watches fearfully as I approach him.
"Here. I'm sorry about what happened. I know it traumatised you." I smile apologetically as I hand him the scissors through one of the holes in the glass. He shakily takes them, and finally looks into my eyes. He's been crying, I can tell that much. He was probably blaming himself for what happened because he gave me the scissors. All the kids have stopped staring by now. They're trying to sleep. The lights were turned off almost two hours ago. I guess all the older kids were waiting to see if I would come back. When I looked at a clock in the hallway just a few minutes ago, it said 10.41pm.
"I'm really sorry, Eric."
"I-It's alright. I've seen worse stuff."
"…Were you crying?" Eric realises what he looks like and rubs his eyes.
"I… was thinking of my friend, that's all…"
"Kyle?"
"Don't be dumb, that Jew isn't my friend."
"Stan?"
"Oh, God no. He's even worse than the Jew."
"…Kenny?"
"No, not him."
"Who then?"
"…og…"
"What?"
"CLYDE FROG OKAY?" I'm guessing he's a stuffed doll or something, with a name like that.
"Alright then, if you say so." Maybe Eric really is caring. He's only known me for what… three days? And he cried for me. He cried for me. I guess I'll pay him back with something he wants. I'll call him what he wants.
"Well, well, well. What was that about 'self-harm's wrong', Tweek?" I half-turn around and glare at Bradley. Cartman glares too. I can see why Bradley's pissed, but seriously.
"You shut the fuck up, Bradley!" All three of us turn to the new voice. It's Thomas.
"I am sick, of you, acting like an asshole to Tweek for three days, for absolutely no reason at all! Just stop being a dick, for once in your life! No one wants to put up with your bullshit, so shut up!"
"Yeah, he's right! Now shut the fuck up and leave Tweek alone." The Watch Kid yells.
Bradley flips both of them off and goes back to his reading. At night time lately, for about the past two weeks, Bradley's been staying up till like two in the morning, trying to catch up on his reading. Like he even needs to. He uses a little flash light to be able to see. It's annoying 'caus the bright light makes it hard for lots of us to sleep, including me.
I give Thomas and the Watch Kid a nod in thanks. Cartman decides to voice his thanks.
"Thanks Thomas! Thanks Kevin!" Kevin huh? Wait…
"How the hell did you know his name?"
"…He's Kenny's brother, Kevin McCormick. Didn't I tell you?"
"No. But if he's Kenny's brother, why doesn't Kenny ever talk to him?"
"…They sort of…don't get along…right Kevin?" Kevin nods and tries to sleep. I can barely see him, since it's so dark.
"Well anyway, I'm gonna try and sleep. This has been a freaking weird day." I wouldn't call it a weird day. More like a fucked up day.
I might as well try to sleep too, after the rough day I've had. I give one last look at Bradley as I get into bed. He's still reading, but he looks really tired. He's really pushing himself too much. All for the sake of good grades.
I wake up from hearing a noise, like a door opening and closing. Probably a nurse leaving the room or something. I look next to me to see what Bradley's doing.
He's fallen asleep while reading. The flash light's still on, pointing to Thomas' cell.
I turn back around and close my eyes, trying to sleep again. It's wierd. I feel like someone's in the room with me. There's obviously no one, but… just to be on the safe side, I should check. I open my eyes again and immediately see a fucking figure looming above me. HOLY SHIT! I almost scream, but then my eyes quickly adjust and I recognise the person.
"C-CRAIG?"