Sippy Cup (South Park)

Chapter 1| Clyde

When another knock breaks the silence in the house, I place my book down and approach the window. Slowly and cautiously, not wanting to reveal too much to the world, I move the curtain and peer out.

Tweek is stood at my door, his hair wild as he attempts to straighten his shirt. His buttons aren't done right, which is strange as they've always been done properly before. I then spy a red mark on his neck.

Suddenly, a strange feeling rushes through me as I shut the curtain. I can't pin point the feeling, but it's demanding I make sure Tweek is okay. Make sure that the mark on his neck isn't the result of him being attacked.

It's almost like a feeling of protectiveness, but Tweek doesn't need protecting. All I know is, it's something I've never felt before.

I open the door without thinking. I grab Tweek's arm, and yank him into my house. He stumbles and gasps, falling into me. It's awkward, as he's taller than me and he ducks down and collides into my chest. I surprisingly don't move at Tweek weight on me, and I close the door.

"Clyde? Wha-" Tweek cuts himself off, as she stands straight, a smudge of red on his hands and his shirt. He stares down at his stained hands, and pinches his stained shirt.

A look of pure confusion rests on his features, as he looks at me. His eyes run down my body, as he takes in my red stained attire and the smudges of red upon my face.

I stay silent, looking up at Tweek. Our gazes lock, green meeting brown.

"P-please tell me that you've been using red paint..." Tweek trails off, clearly nervous as I pick up the stutter in his voice. His eyes are now lingering on my shirt, which contains multiple hands prints from Bebe. My shirt is the only evidence of her struggles.

I gulp, a sudden nervousness weighing down on my shoulders at Tweek's gaze. I keep my eyes on Tweek's face as I speak. "The stains.. They have something to do with why I called you here." My voice is small, my words shaky as I slowly move to the side.

This allows the dead Bebe to be in full view of Tweek, and I feel myself shaking.

What if Tweek leaves?

What if he leaves and tells the police?

What if he hates me?

I like Tweek. I really like him. I don't want him to hurt me..

If he hurts me, I might be driven to do what I did to Bebe, to him.

Tweek's reaction, is not expected. He glares at Bebe's body, and then glares at me. His facial expression is sour, and he shakes his head.

"Oh haha. Very funny. You went through all of this just to prank me?" Tweek asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I slowly shake my head, and feel my heart slam against my rib cage. It's so tense. So scary.

Please don't hurt me Tweek. Please..

I keep begging over and over again. I don't want to be hurt. I don't want to be hurt! My gaze keeps flickering to the knife. It lays in the pool of blood, gleaming.

My fingers twitch, itching to get it in my grasp once again. I shake my head, trying to clear the thoughts of hurting Tweek.

Tweek nervously laughs, clearing all thoughts completely. His laugh was always somehow comforting for me. It was just so, full of joy. So soothing. Even when it's laced with something negative.

Tweek slowly approaches Bebe, his footsteps echoing in the house. I stay quiet, having no idea what to say as Tweek steps in her blood. The blood swarms around his boots, making the soles a dark red.

He nudges the dead girl with his foot. I wonder if he can see the knife wounds up so close, see the holes in her stomach and chest. Her hand is over the stomach wound, probably blocking it from his view.

"Come on Bebe," he says, rolling his eyes. "Get up. I know you can't act dead for longer than a few minuets." Tweek then turns to face me, mischief and fear swimming in his green eyes. "Or is this a prank for Kevin too?"

I shake my head again. Tweek gulps. He crouches down, staring at her chest. Her pink sweater is soaking up blood fast, almost working as something to apply pressure to her wounds. Tweek cautiously reaches his hand out towards her, and his fingertip brush over the exact spot where the knife satisfyingly sunk into her.

Tweek then yelps, pulling back his hand as if Bebe was on fire. At the sudden movement, he falls back into her blood, and cries out, shuffling back. This causes a trail of blood to follow him on the wooden floor.

I watch Tweek as his lifts his fingers, and smells the blood coating them. His eyes widen, and he takes a few deep breaths as he stands up, and faces me.

"Please let this b-be some sort of s-sick joke." Tweek whispers, stutters becoming more frequent. "Please."

I shakily walk up to Tweek, and stand in front of me. I place my hand on his forearm, taking my own deep breaths.

"I'm sorry."

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I know it's a short first chapter, but I really wanted to switch perspectives to get the raw emotion of what Tweek is feeling.

Opinions on the first chapter?

CYA LATER NERDZ