Kyle in the Bathroom

little warning, panic attack, talk of suicide

Panic rushes through my stomach and I know I need to be somewhere alone and safe. I am in Token's house, he's having a party at his giant house. He's the only rich kid in our neighborhood. I run through the hall to the bathroom, tears in my face.

I reach it and knock the door, just to make sure someone isn't in it. I hear people, rustling around, knocking things over. Great, they're making out. After I knock multiple times, I hear them freeze.

"We're busy," I hear Craig shout. Wonderful, Craig and Tweek.

"I'm... on my period." I shout, it's the only thing I can think of. I hope they don't recognize me.

"Oh, sorry." Tweek stammers. They open the door, too wasted to recognize me, fortunatley. They don't notice my tears, either. I rush into the bathroom and lock the door. I break down crying on the floor. I was invited to this party, by Stan, who ditched me to hang out with Token and his crew. Bastard.

It's the biggest party Token has ever fucking thrown, even middle schoolers getting in. Nobody notices me, I'm alone. I'd rather be here than outside, crying to myself, trying to not have a panic attack. I'm ok with accepting I'm a loser, a loner. I'll be like this for too long. Everything was better when Stan was with me.

People knock, I saw no, and they complain. I have to wait this out. I pick at my fingers, then my scalp, then the grout so I don't hurt myself. I cry quietly, without my best friend to calm me down. I wish he was with me. I can't believe he left me. What changed in him? What happened?

I'm by myself, flying solo, hiding out, as Stan ignores all of the history we have. I'll be replaced by someone, probably cooler, like Clyde. Am I not good enough for him? Is this new group of people better than what I'll ever be? 

I hear a drunk Bebe sing along to Alanis Morissette's song "Stinky Britches" that Capitalist Labels stole from Chef. I can't believe they're even playing it. Then I realize, Stan and me will never be able to make fun of people like Bebe again. Who will I call a drunken dickhead other than my Dad?

I shouldn't have gotten this drunk. I'm all alone. I try to hold back my tears. I debate stepping outside and blaming my red eyes on something like weed, or just something in my eye, but I'm to scared. It's not like anyone will know me, anyways.

Everything gets so loud, all of a sudden. People are knocking on the door. They're going to shout, I know it, but I just say I'll be out soon while I cry. Why did he leave me alone? In this shitty party, that's just turned into war over the bathroom? I feel so pressured to leave. I shouldn't have come here.

I try to calm down. I put water on my face, and I feel better. I walk over to the door but everyone stopped knocking. It was just the panic attack. I fall back into sadness. Why do I have to be here? I look in the mirrior. I'm just some stupid kid crying in a party. 

I should've just stayed home, watch some porn or smoke. Or I could've offed myself. I'm a mistake. I'm just some loser, everyone thinks I'm some stupid stoner and they wouldn't be wrong. I drive a shitty car. I spend my nights playing video games.

All everyone knows about me is my name, I'm a smartass, and I'm Jewish. Nobody will care if I leave. I think I can go now. I start to leave and on my way out I see Token. I mutter a bye and I say the party was great. He thanks me, and I run out.

I sit in my shitty PT Cruiser and cry. I'm so stupid.