Un-beta'd.
Hidden Homicide
CHAPTER TWO
The way to a good lie is to have two people involved; then slowly the lie will evaporate into a rumour or a problem for everybody. These two people needed are the one who tells the lie, and the one who's stupid enough to believe it. In this case, Eric Cartman and the whole school - preferably though, his gullable girlfriend Bebe Stevens.
Rumours don't trouble me because I'm more or less used to them. But this one troubles everybody; and involes the one person everybody knows weakens me - and well, threatens everybody else. This person is the one person nobody 'fucks' with, because they're in fear of themselves and their friends - but more importantly their popularity level decreases, because they have to mess with me to mess with him.
Who is he?
His name is Damien.
As I said earlier, Damien is - or was - my first true friend. The one person who I could rely on, and then expect to break my childish innocence with his devilish ways. Of course; quite literally at that. When Damien came back a few years after Eric's birthday party there was nothing to say but a mere apology.
But what followed on after that was quite the amazing complexion to look back on. To realise that for once in my 'childhood' I had something I looked forward to, even if it was wrong at such a young age - I was needed, and trusted and for that moment of time I was loved. I was able to love someone back and feel good about myself.
But it didn't last; until now.
"Okay, class. Settle down. Settle down." I look up from my seat at the back and play with the corner pages of my book, flicking them through my fingers and watching them curl back into their straight posture. I sigh and watch as Mr. Garrison smoothes down his shirt and turns to the door where the new student walks in.
He's bolder than before, he's taller and more muscely - but still skinny and pale. But a pale that suits him beautifully. His eyes are darker than before, seeming almost a very dark black - or raven blue, with the usually hints of red spiking inside to show his emotions. His hair is longer, and his fringe falls over his face easily; not bothering him at all. His attire is the same, black clothes and large black boots with several gothic accessories. I'm quite sure the Gothic kids have taken a liking to him already - due to his real and unordinary fangs he shows when he smirks or smiles.
"I'd like us all to welcome back, Damien." Mr. Garrison pipes up, smiling at the Gothic boy and nodding toward the empty desk in front of me, and beside Cartman. I shiver at Cartman's glares aimed at me, and looks down to the book I'm vandalizing.
I mentally note down to go to the church after school for some guidance. I have laid with the Devil's son, and I have thought thoughts of un-natural minds. I groan softly to myself.
"Now class, today we're going to be learning about Great Expectations, a Charles Dickens novel." I pipe up and smile, shifting in my seat comfortably and getting ready to pay attention. Mr. Garrison steps forward, hand on his chin and Mr. Hatt - supposidly - tucked away in his desk drawer. "Now, can anyone tell me the main character of the story?"
No hands go up - because I pressume they all forgot. I sigh, I don't want to put my hand up, because it would draw attention to myself. If I don't, Mr. Garrison will either choose me - and I'll be seen as the teacher's pet - or will be disapointed, and give me a detention for not paying attention or taking part.
I raise my hand hesitantly and he beams at me. "Pip." He instructs. I gulp and hold onto the book in front of me.
"Ph-Philip Pirrip, sir.." I murmur, shy and quiet so the other's don't hear my accent. But they do, and they turn to glare at me - well, only several do, like Eric and Bebe and Clyde and Token - but the rest turn and give me a silent smile or nod. Because they're all scared.
Damien only glances at me with his fangs partly showing in a smirk or a smile - I don't know which, it's hard to tell - but I flush at his attention and immidiately glance down at the book. Mr. Garrison beams and claps his hands, making me jump and look up again.
"Well done, Pip! Now," Mr. Garrison turns to the board, writing down the main characters names and the beginning of the plot, mentioning the convict and the fire shots. Joe, and Joe's wife - Pip's sister - and his diseased family.
I pay attention, but just barely make it look like I'm not.
Eric scoffs and sits back in his chair, everybody readies themselves for a cocky remark to escape the fat boy. He snarls under his breath and folds his arms over his large belly. I smile at my own thoughts and duck my head to hide my silent humour.
"This is all crap," He pipes up, huffing. Mr. Garrison turns from the board and glares at Eric. "I don't get why we have to learn this British shit, it's not like any of us care about British culture, or even the understated idiots that live there.. They're all hippies, faggots and homeless people. Who cares?" Eric asks.
I frown to myself, gripping onto my shorts as I previously lay them on my legs. 'Leave it, Pip.. Don't say anything,' I think to myself. But I stand up - pushing away my chair and attracting the eyes of the class. I gulp.
"E-English culture is anything b-but that, Eric! You only dislike them because you don't know them a-and because they're weaker - as you want to tell yourself - than you! Y-You're just stubbornly immature and you d-don't respect anybody's opinion! W-Why don't you just.." I pull at my hair, similar to the way Tweek does. "Gosh! Why don't you - just shut up, Eric!?"
Every person in the class is staring, some shocked and some laughing. I'm not sure what at - the humilation of Eric, or the bravery of myself. I glance over to Damien who smiles in his seat, not particularly looking at anything. Mr. Garrison's smiling too and I look at him with wide, fearful eyes.
I've pulled myself into a death trap, that I need to escape from.
"I-.. I'm sorry," I mutter, sitting down and holding my hair, "How rude of me.. Oh gosh.." I curse myself under my breath, shaking to myself in the fear and knowledge of what I've done. I grab my bag and escape out of the classroom.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned." I whisper, bowing my head and shuffling my feet from side to side in the small locked confessional. I listen to the silence for a moment and wonder if there is anybody on the other side. Frightened, I squeak when a voice speaks up.
"Tell me, my child of these sins," A gentle voice commands. I nod to myself and close my eyes taking a deep breath. Looking up, I stroke my fingers through the red silk.
"A long time ago, Father, I slept with a man as only natural for a woman and a man. I enjoyed this playful act of sin, and more so Father - this man was that of the Devil's son.." I gulp and let out another shaky sigh, "B-But, I.. recently have had thoughts not common or natural. Thoughts of spilling blood father.. Of homicidal sins."
There is a pause and a shuffle. "Our lord is always willing to forgive you, my child." I listen to the explination and nod solemnly, "This sin of homosexuality is only one if you believe it is yourself - God has made you, you.. You are not to feel ashamed of this child. But.. with the Devil's son you must repent; show no sign of mercy in his evil deeds and run free of them. He is but a dangerous boy, child - steer clear and God shall forgive.."
"Thank you, Father," I whisper, thankful for the loud echo it brings.
"These thoughts, child - how often have you had such sins into your mind?" He asks, his voice is soft but there is a small sign of disapointment.
I shake to myself, ashamed. "For.. a few days, Father." I reply, my fingers clutching onto the curtain and then letting go, letting the silk fall through my fingers before my hands fall onto my lap and hold my long socks.
The priest sighs, and I expect he is laughing inwardly. "Then it is common child. Issues tend to bring some thoughts into your head and welcome you into the darkness of curiosity. You know which path to take, my boy.."
I nod to myself and stand, "Thank you Father for your words.."
He whispers a small Latin prayer, which I answer with Amen, before walking from the confessional and out of the church lighting a candle as I leave in honour of respect for the church, my faith and my family. As I leave, I try to ignore the dark car following me.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
I sink into my bed and hold the pillow over myself to supress the loud screams. Throwing the pillow aside I sit up with a loud groan and run my fingers through my messed up hair, before placing my hat back on my head securely.
"How foolish of me," I whisper. I can't believe I yelled at Cartman - over a small book that shouldn't of really had much of that anger over me; though it is my heritage, so I suppose I should pray that he understands - and pray these thoughts leave my head.
"Pip,"
I dart up from my bed and glance into red eyes of the intruder of my home. Damien stares at me with calm eyes, my own are wide I know, and my body is shaking. I'm not scared; I'm nervous. I'm not confused, I'm happy.
It's Damien - but then there is every reason to be quite nervous around said Anti-Christ.
"Oh.. H-Hello there, Damien.." I mutter, relaxing but letting my hands fall to my bed sheets and clutch them quite desperately in an attempt to stop my nervous shivers everytime his eyes cross over mine. I gulp past the lump in my throat as he chuckles.
"Polite, still?" He questions. I nod curtly. "I see what you did in school today, Pip. You stood up for yourself for once.." He mutters, leaning against the wall and propping his boot up against it. I gulp - what if he ruins my walls with mud?
But it's Damien - as evil as he may seem - he is not a dirty person. Very clean and organised. I assure you. "W-Well, it's quite difficult to stand up to Eric Cartman under pressure, D-Damien.." I stutter, cursing myself for the childish antics of a crush-ridden school girl.
Damien just chuckles and I shiver.
"Pip, I have a proposition for you.."