Trigger Warning

Some shit is going down.

"Leave it, he doesn't want to go with us anymore, alright?" Clyde reassured, holding his hands out in front of him like a stop sign.

I sighed and threw a crop of hair to the side. "Yeah, but it's Token. He was hanging out with us for ages."

"People change." Clyde sniffed, leaning back in his chair. I knew that too well.

I just shook my head and set a gaze at him, trying to convince him I disagreed. "I know… but, Token. Token Black."

Clyde gulped down a blob of regret which had been stuck in his throat. "It'll never be the same."

I squinted my eyes to blind myself from the truth, not noticing the blond boy approaching us. Tweek ambled up, his little legs swinging frantically over the blanket of snow which covered the South Park ground all year around. "H-hey, guys."

I looked over to Clyde and he looked back. "I mean, it's not a bad replacement." He approved.

I scowled at Clyde, Tweek just shot his head around to try and figure out what was going on. Clyde just shrugged at me, as if to say, 'What did I do?'. One thing that wouldn't change was Clyde… being Clyde.

"Well, if you're going that way, then who's going to be the 'movie guy'?" I said, sitting up. Clyde just kept his eyes on me.

"Uh, who else?" He said, raising an eyebrow.

"Why me?" I protested, my voice being unusually defensive. "What do I do?"

Clyde held his belly and began laughing. "Craig, you watch Red Racer twenty-four seven."

"Why can't Tweek be the movie guy?" I spluttered. Tweek looked over to me, his eyes bugging out.

"He doesn't seem too thrilled by that." Clyde said, pointing out the obvious. I closed my eyes a little to show him that, yes, I knew already.

"W-wait, I do have l-like, a lot of movies." Tweek stammered, pulling out his phone and unlocking it. He soon made it to his gallery and showed us a picture of his movie collection. It was quite impressive actually, shelves upon shelves of movies stacking up on each other.

"Woah. Tweek Tweak is a movie buff?" Clyde said, pulling his head back from craning his neck around to see the phone screen.

"Y-yeah, I like to watch movies because I-I don't get much sleep." He said, twitching a little harder.

"What kind of movies are your… jam?" Clyde asked, getting a sock in the arm for saying 'jam'.

"M-mostly adventure ones." He said, calming down now. Clyde's face soon lit up, meaning he had an idea. These were typically stupid, and if it were not for me smashing him in the arm so often, he would probably come out with even more stupid ideas than he already does.

"Dude, we should go to Tweek's and watch a movie!" Clyde said, jumping up from his sitting position.

"Clyde, shouldn't you ask him first?" I groaned, sticking my hands in my pockets. He rolled his eyes, but followed my suggestion. I was a Tucker, always right. Then again, thinking of how fucked my family is, that probably wasn't a good thing to hold.

"Oh, yeah, Tweek can we come over to watch a movie?" He chirped. I could almost see him jumping up and down like a Japanese school girl.

"U-uh, um… y-y… mayb-b-be?" Tweek stuttered, his anxiousness peaking as soon as Clyde gave him one of those Donovan trademark sad faces.

"Cool." Clyde said. "Today, then."

"W-wait, like, how d-do you host a t-thing like this?" Tweek stumbled, his words crashing together as they left his mouth. I rolled my eyes, and Clyde glowered in my direction.

"You just, have us over. You can tell us when you don't like us doing something." Clyde reassured.

"You need to do that a lot with Clyde." I said, gesturing my thumb over to the brunette. He scrunched his face up at me.

"O-oh, okay."

…

We arrived at the Tweak residence pretty early after school finished, it was only a short walk, and we'd made it inside by twenty to four. Clyde was giddy, Tweek was nervous and I was… lost in my thoughts again.

"U-uh, we're here." Tweek said, thrusting me out of my subconscious and back into the real world. I looked up and down the Tweek household, it was standard. Burgundy, and frosted over like everything else.

Clyde barged through the door, making Tweek wince as it smashed into the wall behind it. "We're here!" Clyde announced, spreading his arms out like he was a jazz singer. The first thing I noticed about Tweek's house was the distinct aurora of coffee, don't get me wrong – I know Tweek's parents are coffee mad, owning a shop and all, but it was so overwhelming, so… strong. I've never personally liked coffee, but I could stand it. The second thing I noticed was the cleanliness of the place. Tweek seemed to be on edge all the time, yet his house was perfectly clean. Spotless. That insight soon changed as we reached Tweek's room, though. This was a pigsty.

"Dude!" Clyde said, his head swishing frantically to examine the room.

"S-sorry it's a mess, I-I never get to clean the p-place up." Tweek began, but Clyde waved his hand in protest.

"Nah, man, this is sick! My parents say that I have to clean my own room, it sucks." Clyde gushed, holding his cheeks in amazement.

"Maybe because they don't want you to live in your own filth." I said, Clyde's grin disappearing from his face as I brought him back down to earth.

"I-it's not that bad." Tweek protested, shooting his look around the room.

"Your room isn't bad," I said. "Clyde's would be, though."

Clyde scrunched up his face and hunched his arms. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you would probably live in your own shit if you could." I deadpanned.

Clyde tutted his tongue against the roof of his mouth before switching the conversation away from his own embarrassment. "So what films do you have?"

Tweek pointed over to a cupboard situated in the corner of the room. "T-they're there."

Clyde rushed over and flung the doors open, revealing shelves of neatly packed movies. There were so many, as well, categorized into tiny packages of films. Labels were strewn all over, packaging clusters of movies into genres. Immediately Clyde flung himself at the horror section, flicking through copies of movies. He finally stopped on one and studied for a moment, before his face lit up like a bulb. "Holy shit, dude!"

I craned my neck over to look at the case he was holding. It read: 'Bat-wielding midget maniac.' "What?" I asked, an underlying tone of maliciousness in my voice.

"This film is flipping banned! Like, I think this is the only copy of it in America." Clyde spluttered, getting way too excited for a movie.

Tweek furrowed his brow at the brunette's excitement. "R-really?"

"Yeah, bro!" He said back, jumping up and down like a Japanese school girl again.

He pulled it out from the cupboard and slammed the door closed, swiveling on his heels and making his way over to the Blu Ray. It was soon in and the title flashed across. "This is going to be so fucking good, dude!"

The three of us all sat down on the bed, Clyde on the edge, me in the middle and Tweek squished up against the wall. "Tweek, you don't have to go over there." I said, laughing in my head at his attempts to distance himself from the movie.

"N-no, like, scary movies f-freak me o-out way too much!" He cried, twitching pretty hard.

I threw him a pillow. "Dig your face into that, and don't dig it into my lap." I joked, he didn't take it as a joke though. His face flushed white and he began to stare into space.

"Oh, shit, sorry." I apologized. I don't even know why I joked about it, and Clyde must've thought that as well, because he was glaring at me in the most confused way possible.

He came back to consciousness and looked over at me. "O-oh, it's okay. I-I guess it was more awkward for you, m-me being gay and all."

I tilted my head. Oh yeah, he was gay. "Woah man, I like gay people." I protested, getting a jab in the side from Clyde.

"Are you coming out right now, Craig?" Clyde joked. I turned white and just stared at him for a moment.

After eventually getting my bearings, I replied to his remark. "You know what I mean, dickhead."

The movie started, and Clyde was already hyping shit up. 'Dude this is way better than Token's!' and 'Woah, so cool!'. It seemed like the movie was doing a good job, as well, because around ten minutes in Clyde had his mouth open and Tweek had his hands over his eyes. We came to around the middle part of the film, Tweek's face already buried deep into the pillow. Clyde also wasn't holding up too well. I know he's a wuss, but this movie got to him. Like, I haven't seen him this scared before. I wasn't too bothered, I was buried in my phone.

I guess a jump-scare happened, because Clyde actually jumped up from the creaky bed and ran out of the room. I stared in astonishment as the brunette who claimed, 'He was never scared of anything' just ran away from a TV. I heard Tweek whimper, and I kind of felt bad for him, so I stood up and went over to the TV and switched it off. No sound came for a moment, like it was the dying roar of a battlefield, but that soon changed when Tweek screamed into his pillow.

"Whhhhyyyy!" He screamed, and I could see his stomach crunch as he used his last oxygen to cry into his pillow. He finally stuck his face up from the pillow and scanned the room. "C-Craig?"

I gave a small chuckle at his distressed face, that and it was to calm him down. "What?"

"I-Is it off?" He whimpered. I nodded, and he sighed heavily. "W-why did Clyde put me through that?" He whimpered again, I shrugged.

"Because it's Clyde." I said, turning to the door. I guessed he was still in the hallway, panting his head off. Yeah, that seemed like a Donovan thing to do.

"W-why'd we have t-to watch that!?" He protested. I shrugged again, turning back to the blond.

"Clyde's awkward, okay?" I said, swishing a crop of hair under my chullo.

"A-awkwarder than me?" He questioned. I gave a small huff of laughter.

"Awkwarder isn't a word, and yeah. He's awkward." I chuckled.

"H-how so?" Tweek asked, really pushing me to explain myself. To be honest, I don't even know why I said that. Surely he knew everyone was awkward.

"Well, you know, everybody's got something embarrasing about themselves." I said, cringing after as I was awaiting the after-effects.

"A-are you awkward, C-Craig?"

Yep, there it was.

I turned to Tweek and cracked a small smile. "Well, in a way."

Tweek returned a small, forced smile. "Y-yeah, but how?"

I couldn't refuse his question. He had somehow tapped into my brain, if it was still alive in there, and pulled my strings perfectly. "Uh, I… um. Well, my favorite movies are, uh… documentaries."

Tweek laughed. That was the first time I had heard a proper laugh. Not a nervous giggle. A deep, bellowing laugh, mocking my naivety. "T-that doesn't make you a-awkward."

"Why not?" I asked. It seemed pretty awkward to me at that moment. A stressed, possibly depressed, teen like me liking documentaries. What wasn't weird?

"T-that's just what you like." He reassured, his voice now this awkwardly calming tone. "I-if anyone's awkward, i-it's me."

I knitted my brow. "You're not awkward."

He seemed taken aback by my random gesture of kindness, I seemed taken aback by it. "B-but I twitch all the time and… and..."

"And?" I said. "That's just you, Tweek." I don't know where this came from, I'd never ever been told this by someone else, so I was as surprised as Tweek.

His face went blank for a moment, and then another smile came onto his face. But it wasn't small, it was big. A proper smile. "I-I didn't look at it that way."

"No-one does." I laughed. "Now, let's put on an actual movie."

I'd soon booted up a copy of The Goonies, and Tweek had his eyes fixed on it intently. Clyde eventually made it back as well, and he looked completely white in the face. I didn't ask about it. It seemed rude, although that never stopped me before, and in the end I decided to shut up for everyone's sake.

…

The snow crunched under my feet and I looked around. Blankets of snow layered the ground as always, and the sun was hidden behind rows of grey clouds.

Yeah it sucked that Token was being an ass, and my mind was still stuck in the perpetual cycle of shit, but I felt like I was progressing in life. I felt like something was finally happening in my life, and I was proud of it. I don't know why I was proud, but I was, and that was good.

"We need a plan." Clyde said, waving his hands like an idiot. Tweek walked along side us, cradling his coffee thermos.

"Who says so?" I asked, shaking my head at the brunette's completely oblivious nature. Tweek seemed to agree with me, or I think he did, he never usually says anything critical about anyone. Most teenagers are at each other's throats twenty-four seven, yet he was completely quiet. Not a sound.

"Tacticians, Craig." Clyde replied, acting like it was the most obvious answer to my question ever. It wasn't.

"What kind of tacticians?" I coaxed, hoping to catch him off guard, embarrassing him for babbling on about something he didn't even know anything about.

"Like uh, Napoleon." He guessed, and even though I could tell it was a guess, he wasn't wrong.

In defeat I rubbed a hand against my face. "What would Napoleon do, then?"

"He would go over to him and be like… cool." Clyde planned, his voice carrying a hint of deliriousness with it.

I turned to him with a sigh and fixed my gaze onto him. "'Be cool'? Good plan, Napoleon."

He sent a punch at me and it connected with my arm. I didn't flinch, to be honest a three-year-old girl wouldn't flinch at Clyde's punches, and just carried on walking, head lowered. After a bit he seemed offended by my lack of caring and shot another punch into my arm. I tried to stop him by glaring at him but he just kept punching, and soon I was completely fed up with it.

Without thought I shoved him over into a thick layer of snow, not realizing there was a group of people stood right next to us as I did it. He went crashing into them, screaming my name, and Clyde, and two other people lay flattened on the ground. I looked down at Clyde on the floor, his face full of helplessness like an overturned turtle. Next to him, on the floor, lay Bebe and Wendy. I gritted my teeth together hard, this could not end well.

"What the FUCK Clyde!?" Bebe screeched, her teeth showing like a pair of fangs ready to sting right into a prey's neck. Well, in this circumstance, it sure seemed that way. She was beaten pretty bad, a bruise on her face already.

"Craig you fuck!" Clyde shouted at me, not even acknowledging the two-people next to him.

"Clyde!?" Bebe screeched again, and this time he noticed. I could see his face turn white as soon as he realized who it was, and I could feel his fear.

"Oh, uh… sorry Bebe." He stammered, lifting himself off the floor with the help of Tweek. I just stood back, the girls in this school were bitches, so I wasn't getting involved.

"You should be, pulling that shit at my house and then knocking me over! You are a sad, pathetic little man, Clyde!" Bebe cried, now standing. I could see Clyde cowering from her.

I suddenly got this urge to defend Clyde, and it was weird. Like super weird. I'm not joking when I say this, but I felt bad for Clyde. Obviously, at that moment I didn't know the whole story, but I felt bad for him. Without though, for the second time in a few minutes, I stepped in. "Listen here, Bebe. I don't know what shit he pulled at your house but calling him sad and pathetic is going a little far, you think?"

She scowled at me. "You don't know what happened though!"

"Tell me, then I'll judge." I explained. She hesitated for a moment, then began speaking. Clyde's face went an even paler shade of white when she began.

"He fucking pulled a condom out in front of my parents." She admitted, and I stood there for a moment.

"Wait, what?" I said, my confusion taking over my entire body.

"He pulled a cond…" She began, but I cut her off with a 'Yeah, I hear you the first time'. I think it was just my body reacting when I asked the, 'What' and I didn't like it at all.

"That's it?" I asked, darting my eyes between the two. "That's what this had been about?"

"Y… yeah." Clyde said, lowering his head in shame.

"Wait a minute, Craig, who are you to judge what happened? I bet your parents haven't even fucking had the talk with you, knowing their stubborn asses." Bebe rasped. My breath raced as memories came flooding back to my mind. Great remind me about this.

"Sure, Bebe, sure. Let me tell you, that's my condom and I got into deep shit because of it as well. Don't go around thinking you're special, because you're not." I spat, the rage from my parents' confrontations seeping through me.

"Whatever." Bebe said, flapping her hand at me. That pissed me off more.

"No, not whatever. Do you see what shit this has put Clyde in as well?" I growled, gesturing over to Clyde who stood nervously beside Bebe, rubbing his arm up and down. "He doesn't seem too fucking thrilled about it either. Get your head out your own ass and look at the world for once."

"Shut up, Craig. You don't talk to me like that." Bebe spat back, curling her already frizzy hair.

"I can talk to you however the fuck I want." I snarled. My dad says that all the time, at least I'd got one useful thing from him.

"Guys, stop." Wendy said, pushing Bebe aside. I bit my lip, but didn't stop my strong frown. "Stop fighting."

"You too, Wendy." I said. "I know you think that you do right all the time, but you don't. No-one does. Can't you fucking see that? Everyone of us are stuck up pricks who take everything for granted."

"Craig, stop, this isn't you." She argued weakly. I felt a tug on my jacket, but I just shrugged it off, continuing my rant.

"You, me, Clyde, Bebe. We're all pieces of shit. Get. That. Through. Your. Fucking. Head." I finally finished, my head practically heaving steam off it.

"Where's that Craig I know? The nice one?" Wendy queried, holding me back.

"Dead and buried." I spat. After that it was quiet for a while, and a tugging on my jacket became harder. Giving up, I turned around and looked at who it was. Tweek. Aw fuck, he shouldn't have seen me like that.

"C-Craig?" He said, his twitches quite heavy.

"What?" I snapped.

"A-Are you okay?" He asked, trembling now. I just wanted this to end, I was making everyone uncomfortable, and now my rant was over, I could feel the awkwardness of it all.

"No, and don't talk to me. It's for your own sake." I said, removing his hand from my jacket and storming off. I didn't know if it was the right thing to do, but I felt obligated. I had to just let this anger go away.

That was how I ended up in the counselor's office after throwing down a row of lockers and breaking a door. Something had possessed me, and it wasn't good. Not at all.

"So," Mr. Pober began. "hello Craig."

I shook my head. "Can I go home?"

"Now, now, Craig, you know we can't do that." Mr. Pober said calmly. I now knew why he was so good at his job. He was so calm. Too calm.

"Why not? I can walk home." I argued a point which was never going to work, but you couldn't estimate everything.

"Because: A) That is against the law. You need permission. And B) You have something wrong with you, and I want to fix it." He spoke calmly. His voice was neutral, yet brash. Grinding my gears each time he spoke.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." I huffed, folding my arms.

"Craig, something's on your mind and I need to know about it." Mr. Pober said, adjusting his glasses. "According to the report, it seems like you have an anger problem."

"Don't you fucking start. You sound like my dad." I snarled, biting down even harder on my top lip.

"Huh. Tell me, what does your dad do, exactly?" He asked. My head wasn't in the right place, and I was soon unraveling everything.

"He shouts at me all the time." I admitted, unfolding my arms and sticking them in my jacket pockets.

"What kind of things does he say?" Mr. Pober queried, adjusting his spectacles again.

"That I'm a brat. Ungrateful." I said, playing with a random piece of string in my pocket. Mr. Pober was about to ask something else, but I'd already began speaking again. "And that doesn't help my mental health, does it? Being called ungrateful and a brat. That's like, fucked."

Mr. Pober tilted his head slightly, his combover slightly sliding off his head. "Well Craig…" He began.

But I carried on talking. I didn't care if anyone knew at this point, I just had to get it out. "It's like he's locked me up in my brain, and that place is hell. I don't want to go there, ever."

"Craig, it seems like you have some serious cases of depression and…" But, once again, I cut him off again.

"You don't think I know that? You don't think that I… that I, I know… that…" I spluttered, trying to find the words for it. I couldn't.

"Craig, do you need to see someone?" Mr. Pober asked. "A therapist?"

"I don't know, just, answer this please." I pleaded. Mr. Pober nodded, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. I coughed it out and took a long breath in. "How do you change things?"

He paused for a moment, but finally spoke. "Craig, you have to understand that if you really want change, you have to change."

I slid off my chullo and grabbed at my hair. "How? How?"

"I don't… Craig, I think you need to go home." Mr. Pober said, his voice now carrying a hint of anxiousness.

"And that would help how?" I snarled, my anger flaring once again.

"Well, you could talk to your mom." He suggested, but that was a horrible idea as well. My mom was insane, no better than my dad. They were two extremes, two very fucked extremes.

"No. I'm not going back there." I spat, producing my hands from my jacket pockets to clench them. My knuckles had stretch marks on them, my skin not ready for the size that I was to become. I hated being tall, I didn't want to stand out in the crowd. That isn't me.

"Where are you going to go then?" He asked, pulling off his feeble glasses, folding them and placing them down. I hesitated for a moment. Where was I going to go?

"Nowhere. I'm going nowhere." I said. I didn't know what it meant, but it sounded right. It sounded like it's what I should've said.

I dropped my head into my hands and just bit down. It hurt like fuck.

"What the fuck are you doing? Craig stop it, now. NOW!" Mr. Pober commanded, but I took no notice. He said it again and I lifted my head to make my eyes meet with his, but carried on biting. I mumbled, "Fuck you." and bit down even harder.

He jumped up and began wrestling my hand away. It took me by surprise and soon my hand was away from my face and my arms were being strung behind my back. I instinctively began to shake free of the restraint, trying to get the counselor off me. His grip was strong, but I broke free.

After getting out of the constraint I swiveled towards Mr. Pober and shoved him back, sending him crashing into the door. He smashed out into the hallway and the door went with him too, the hinges snapping with an impressive crack.

This was bad. I'd fucked up bad. How was I going to get out of this?

I shot my head around the room, looking for escapes, freedom. I fixed my eyes on the window, the wind rushing by. It seemed so calm out there, and so screwed in here.

I wasn't thinking. I couldn't have been.

I jumped.