Hiraeth Of The Heart (Tweek X Craig)

Chapter 2, An Opportunity

"H-he's not- he can't be, I just saw him yesterday!" 

I pulled on my hair, feeling the words spilling out of my mouth like a glass overflowing with water.  This was absolutely crazy.  Like, more crazy then crazy.  What's crazier then crazy?  oh right, this was insane!  I couldn't stop my fingers from shaking.  Just yesterday, this level headed stranger was helping me off of the floor, and touching my hand just a bit longer then you'd normally touch a stranger's hand.  Now he was dead? Oh Christ. I couldn't help but feel it was my fault. There's those stories of miracles that read about fate and destiny: I can't help but feel like I completely ignored mine. Maybe I was suppose to see this guy, Look into his eyes, and realize that he wasn't ok. I should be able to do that, right?  Yeah. Especially since I was the same. I could have done that. I did do that. I saw the desolation in his eyes and I passed by it by: I passed him by.

"Twitch!" Cartman interrupted - causing me to snap out of my panicked state and back into the flooding realization that I was still surrounded by people. Anxiety shot through me like a bullet. Scratch that. Anxiety blasted me all to pieces.

"You just got here, so how the hell do you know Craig Tucker?  He only talked to certain people.  His head was too far up his own ass to-"  Cartman came to a stop in mid sentence after Kenny gave him a good glare.  Cartman huffed and said something under his breath.  Taking the silence as a sign I should answer his question, I nervously shuttered, all the while still shaking in horror.

"GAH. Umm. Well, we never r-really talked- but uh.. I ran into him- and- and uh-"

"Don't care." Cartman interrupted emotionlessly while looking at his nails before soon continuing,
"Anyways, if it bothers you so much that you raped him-"

"ACK!- I bumped into him!" I yelled, letting my hair flip back and fourth, following my head.

"Ya, ya. Bump, rape, same difference.  Anyways, just go to his memorial. It's friday, after school. It could help with.. y'know,"
he blinked. "closure?"

Stan, walked up a bit closer to me and Cartman before correcting him. "We're going too. So is Cartman."

The boy in the orange parka winced at Cartman's name, letting his brows drop to his piercing eyes before muttering something through the thick coat.

"Shut up Kenny!" Cartman squeaked with his brows scrunched together. Mental note; Orange parka guy's name is Kenny.  After a few minutes of the group cussing each other out (mainly Cartman and Kyle), finally getting a chance to speak, I responded to Cartman's original suggestion.

"I- I'll go." I twitched nervously, pushing a lock of my blonde hair out of my face.

"Nice. see you there."  Kyle responded to me for the first time instead of Cartman.  Thank god for that.

They all went their separate ways. I noticed Kenny making his way to the exit instead of following the rest of the guys to a classroom; and I was almost positive that I saw the mysterious blonde pop a cigarette into his mouth as he walked. Were all these people really friends?  Who am I kidding, what do I know about how friends act? 

For the rest of the school day I moped around thinking about my screwup. I couldn't shake the suffocating thought. My head was filled to the rim with how much I'm a screwup; Thinking of how My dumb ass couldn't get out a decent sentence; Thinking it's weird that I don't remember his fingers snaking around my hand.  My head was clouded, almost smoked with these thoughts. This whole situation was crazy.  I took nearly all of my last class to write a note. Mom always told me to write my feelings down, that it helped; though I never saw it.  I poured my guilt, curiosity, and confusion into it. It went a little something.. like this;

Dear Craig,

Can I call you that?  Who am I kidding, that's your name, why wouldn't I?  I know I'm pretty dumb.  Just an idiot stranger. That much is obvious with all of the stuttering and such.  I wonder if you even remember me..?  Probably not, I doubt I made much of a good impression.  There's just a few thing I wanted to get off of my chest, and a few questions I know I will probably never have an answer to that I thought I should just ask through this letter anyways. First thing is first,  Could I have stopped you from taking your own life if I had been brave enough to actually chase after you?  Or maybe; do you think we could have been friends if I had?  When you held your hand to mine, I want to know what the extra moments were for. Why didn't you just let go after helping me up?  It's probably just a mistake, but curiosity eats people like me alive.  I must be stupid for writing this to a guy who's already dead, and I must be even more crazy feeling like I was partially to blame.  You don't know this, but I screw everything up.  I even screwed up my chance of helping a person who needed it most. I know that might not be true, but you popped up looking, well, nearly as broken as I am. I can't help but feel like in every possible way; we were suppose to meet; and I was supposed to chase after you. You had really blue eyes and I was sure you was trying to kill me with them, but somehow they were really breath taking; an ocean of thoughts seemed to be filling them. I'm sorry that I didn't go after you. I've always thought that one day I'd end up ending it all, but I always had an excuse; I still do. My excuse right now seems to be writing this letter. And after I'm done, it will be giving it to you. I still have a lot more to say.  I'll leave it at; I think you made a mistake, and I did as well.

Sincerely, Tweek Tweak.

I sighed shakily, causing me to twitch. After finishing up the last touches on the letter. I took a breather. Trying not to focus on the hurricane of anxiety that had grasped me, I began to fold the note. Suddenly the side of the paper slide across my thumb.  I gasped.
"Gah- I'm going to bleed out! If I die, my parents are going to kill me!"

I yelled, warning myself.
I nervously watched a small droplet of blood from a newly formed paper cut slide from the tip of my thumb, to the side, and drop onto the front of the folded letter.  I quickly put the injured finger in my mouth and winced at the exhilarating sting. 

I can't stand blood.  Shakes and twitches ate away at my seemingly normal body. Around this time is when I felt a hand snake up onto my shoulder.

"AH, GOD!-" I snapped my head around, eyes pushed open wide by my scream.

"Hey! Sorry, did I scare you?  Your name is Tweek, right?  We're in this class together, I'm Wendy." She slipped her hand away from my shoulder.

Wendy stood behind me with a sad smile. She had seemingly long black hair that that was growing from under her pink beret.

"Are you going to Craig's memorial service?  Everyone's really upset about what happened, I was just curious if you knew him since you're new and all." 

I slowly blinked before responding. "Y-yes?" I choked out questionably..

She smiled even bigger;

"Thats good, I'll see you there then. Bye, Tweek."
She vanished from my sight within moments.

I had suspected that Craig was popular, but I didn't expect everyone to admire him the way they did. There was no reason to ponder why, he was extremely handsome from how I remember it. He was built decently well too, which wasn't a very good thing if you were planning on walking into him. Guilt built up in the back of my throat; I forced it down. Pulling at my blond locks in attempt to get the thoughts out of my head, I picked up my now crimson stained letter.

This whole situation was exasperating.

I was sure I was on the edge of going mad.

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(A//N; This took forever to write, also probably gonna update this story another time tonight if I don't pass out. leave a vote and comments if you enjoyed.)