Dumb Twitch -CREEK

Chapter 6

WARNING— THIS WILL MORE THAN LIKELY BE A LITTLE TRIGGERING. I WILL PUT A WIDE EYED ALEX AT THE BEGINNING AND END OF THE TRIGGERING PARTS. IT ALSO MENTIONS DEPRESSION AND RELAPSING. THAT IS THE TRIGGER. IF THIS WILL CAUSE YOU TO RELAPSE I RECOMMEND YOU SKIP THE MARKED PART. IF YOU NEED TO TALK, DMS ARE OPEN. BE CAREFUL CHIRREN.

No ones pov

Tweek was laying in the hallway, battered and bloody from half the fucking football team beating the shit out of him. He got up, limping slightly and started slowly walking to his house. About halfway there his phone started blowing up.

'Oh yeah... the goths are in my art class... it must've started...' he thought, walking into his house, then up to his room. He hasn't been beaten up this bad in weeks.. it was the only reason he hoped the cows never lost a game.

~~~~~<(•-•)>~~~~~

The blond started digging through his drawer, then he found what he was looking for, a box. He took out a small key and unlocked it, it popping open.

Inside there were sharp things, broken pencil sharpeners, razors, pieces of glass and a pocket knife.

He pulled up his sleeves after grabbing a razor, and stared at his scarred arm. He heard his phone go off and looked at the time. It was music class time, and Craig was freaking out. He threw his phone on the bed and made a long, straighter-than-he-is cut, continuing to stare as the blood bubbled up and started to run down his arm.

He didn't really feel the pain, he couldn't, not anymore. He made quite a few more cuts within the hour, not realizing the time.

When he stopped, his arm was striped.

~~~~~<(•-•)>~~~~~

Tweek grabbed his phone, texting the goths, not bothering to bandage his arm. He had a dark green sweater on and you couldn't see the blood through it, so he had just pulled down his sleeves, his clean streak gone.

Hey, got sick and went home. Took a nap as soon as I got here.

He lied. The goths had never known he had cut in the first place and he really didn't want them to find out.

Then he heard a door slam open and a familiar monotone voice calling out "Tweek?" Worry lacing the word.

'Oh shit oh no oh shit oh no oh shit oh no fuck fuck fuck—' Tweek thought, panicked. He quickly put the razor back then closed and locked the box, putting it back in the drawer and shutting it. He sat on his bed, pulling at his hair panicked.

Then Craig walked in.

"Holy fuck you scared the shit outta me!!" He yelled, causing Tweek to flinch.

"S-so-GAH-Sorry!!"

Craig walked up to Tweek and pulling his hands from his hair, noticing the blood on one of them. "What the hell..?" He asked, then pulled up Tweeks sleeve, showing scars and the new cuts. "WHAT THE FUCK, TWEEK?!"

Tweek jumped and Craig noticed his black eye. "Did you... relapse?" Craig asked. Clyde had been depressed for a bit and had relapsed every month or so.

Tweek nodded. "I-I'm s-GAH-Sorry!!"

Craig sighed. "Let me bandage you up..." Tweek nodded and Craig internally groaned. 'I can't be getting feelings for him... can I?'