Trying Too Hard [Bunny Love Story]

►Chapter Three◄

In countless films and books meant for the teenage audience, there's this unspoken understanding that all of the outcasts are supposed to get together in a sort of 'I Hate My Life' clique and become best buds and whatnot. Of course, that's not even close to the reality of it. After all, they're called outcasts for a reason. If they had their own group - well, they'd be known as incasts. What would help the storyline progress then? This isn't to say that high schools don't have cliques, because that would also be a lie. South Park High School, along with others I'm sure, carried a plethora of interesting people and groups.

While the best known ones are the goth kids and that really strange Vampire Society, there are definitely other sets of people. We've got the geeks, which consists of Bradley Biggle and Kevin Stoley. Occasionally, Esther joins them but this could just be because her and Bradley are dating. Don't tell anyone I said that, though. Kevin still doesn't know. Anyway, South Park also harbors popular girls like Wendy Testaburger, Bebe Stevens, Heidi Turner, Esther, Red, etc. Basically, all the girls like to get together and gossip about everyone yet are super friendly towards the majority of their classmates which makes them quote-unquote popular. The only person that I can really think of as being mean, or stereotyped under a bully, would be Eric Cartman. I go along with his schemes because, well, he's really funny and I kind-of-sort-of-maybe used to have a little bit of a crush on him. This was before the love of my life and I actually started having somewhat nice conversations. Besides, Eric's straight.

Anyway, there are also 'outcasts'. Take Christophe DeLorn for example. He spends all of his time skipping school, digging holes, smoking cigarettes, and blaming God for every bitter thing that happens to him. Sometimes I find myself feeling sorry for him, but then I realize that he only has himself to blame for forming such a terrible relationship with God. I rarely see him around anyone else, unless it's that Gregory kid. Even then, Christophe seems to have a strong disliking toward the blonde and every time he sees him tends to turn in the opposite direction. I haven't yet figured out what the reason behind this was, and now I don't think I ever will. You see, I have bigger problems than understanding the thoughts of those around me.

I was being hunted.

You'd think I'd be downright ecstatic to learn that the man I've been in love with for so many years was actually searching for me. On the contrary, I was ready to pack my bags and beg my parents to move to Asia. Other than allowing myself to get grounded for even mentioning such a silly suggestion, I trudged home after school with a million thoughts racing through my brain.

What am I supposed to do?

Maybe I shouldn't go out spray painting for a while.. But then how was I supposed to display my message? I already had the eyeball right on the McCormick's building, I couldn't just turn back now... Could I? The only thing that's stopping me from not vandalizing another building was myself. No, there's no way I can back down now. Years of my hard work wasn't going to just go right down the drain.

My mother was repainting our living room when I stepped inside the house. She did this a lot when she was stressed out, and I've learned not to ask by this point. You never know what will set her off; she's so unpredictable that I'd suggest she go visit a doctor but I'm nervous that she'll yell at me and then repaint the exterior of the house instead. You know, resorting to the big guns.

"How was your day, sweetheart?" she asked, not taking her eyes off of the dull blue paint she was covering with white. It was going to take quite a few layers to fully disguise the previous color.

Walking toward the stairway, I took extra care in not touching the wet paint. "It was great, Mom. How about yours?" I asked.

"My day off was wonderful," she breathed out, clearly in a terrible mood by the way she spoke to me. "Don't forget to finish your homework."

"You got it, Mom," I said while climbing the stairs. I could hear the soft sound of brush against wall, which was something that I now found more comforting than anything else. It was a familiar sound, but I still preferred the noise spray cans made.

Tonight, as always, I would sneak out. I'm such an awful son and what makes me worse is the fact that I continue to ignore my awareness of such a thing and still be rebellious. Something that makes this night different was that four people were going to be looking out for me, and I have no clue as to how they're going to do it.

Were they going to set up cameras? Organize a small stakeout?  Set some sort of trap? I decided I needed something to hide my identity while committing this crime, and so I searched around my bedroom. In my closet was nothing I found useful, in my drawers were nothing but underwear and socks. Finally, just as I was about to give up, I remembered something.

Reaching under my bed, my fingers brushed against a cardboard box. I had to outstretch my arm as much as possible in order to get it out, since it was really far back, and when I took it out I was pleased to see that it still contained my old costume. The thing was now way too small for me, which was to be expected considering the amount I've grown since elementary school. I'd have to remake it. No matter, it's not as if making a tinfoil mask-type thing was going to take very long anyway.

Once that was over and done with, I looked to myself in the mirror and couldn't help but break out into a grin. This was perfect. Professor Chaos was officially back.

"They'll never recognize me in this!" I told myself before going into a small fit of laughter.