Chapter 11, Not Natural

2.1K 100 9
                                    


My body trembled as if the temperature surrounding me was dropped to a negative degree. Mom was in the kitchen talking to my Dad. I had already left to the bathroom to get ready for school. I really didn't feel like being suffocated by their questioning glances at this moment. I was tired of those looks. They gave me a headache. Those glances would swirl around in my head and bang against my skull for the rest of the day. I tuned out the muffling noises and proceeded with looking into the bathroom mirror in search for one feature of mine that I didn't mind being the owner of. I was searching, and searching, but I couldn't find it. My light skin, my smaller then usual frame, my unscripted hair that never seemed to listen. I hated it. I hated that I had nothing to admire. I didn't have any secret superpower, or some kind of suppressed beauty. All I had was an unruly addiction to coffee and a bad twitch. I shrugged off my disappointment and decided to continue looking another day; or not. I took my leave and left the bathroom, switching off the light as I go. My head down as I passed through the door frame in deep thought.

"GAH!!" I screeched through a fumble and a swift head lift from the floor to the obstacle that I had almost carelessly crashed into. Craig. He was sipping a cup of coffee awkwardly. Oh Jesus Christ, did mom seriously make him a cup? Surprisingly enough, a dead look consumed his face, and especially ate away at his blue eyes. His mouth covered generously by the old mug that usually sat in the back of the cabinet. This is the first time it had been put to use since grandma died. His blue hat had been plopped onto his black head of hair sloppily. This guy really has no care in the world. Previously, I had believed that the term had been a preposterous, that no one could truly have zero worries. If they could, he would be the one to accomplish such a thing. That accomplishment fits him like a glove. His personality was a whole different universe away from me. Mentally we are light-years away; so why does he always assume he has to stand so close to me? He raised his chin slightly away from the mug, simultaneously lowering his fingers. Steam hovering up into the air.

"I'm going to school with you." He said.

Is this guy in denial of what happened, or does he just have some kind of unbreakable ego? Maybe a forgetful memory? I mean, I grabbed his. . .

"N-no." I noticed that I let that word fly out of my mouth a lot when I'm near Craig.

He grabbed the sleeve to my pale green long sleeve shirt that I had just changed into minutes ago, (this being the first time I've worn something other than my dark green button up shirt to school in months.) and tugged me past my bedroom door and down the stairs. His feet lifting and falling hastily as he moved. I pulled on my hair with my free hand, and couldn't help but to twitch as I was being dragged to my front door. I of course let out a few signature squeaks and squeals, and I of course mentally cursed myself for making such stupid noises. I turned my head back to the kitchen, past the living room, and made eye contact with my mom. I double checked myself to make sure I had properly translated, "Oh God, Mom. Help me I'm gonna scream," into a look that I could wear on my face. Yep that's definitely what my face was reading to be. She smiled. She smiled!? As Craig opened the door and dragged me out without any hesitation, I took my last plead of help to both my Mom's devilish smile, and my Dad; who had just rounded the corner and wrapped his arm around her.

The door shut, and my pathetic excuses of saviors vanished behind it, making my plead immediately turn towards Craig. He ignored every look I gave him and continued down that path I took to school. I wonder if he used to go down this road to get there too? That sucks, we could have walked together.

I felt Craig's fingers loosen their hold on my sweater's fabric. I took this chance to slip my hands into my hair as I walked. I tugged, twirled, and fiddled locks of my blonde hair as the silence made it difficult to do anything other then that. My teeth constantly digging into my cracked lips as if I'd accomplish something in doing it - Only thing I got from it was the taste of blood. The metallic taste on my tongue made me wince. I did my best to not let it dig into my brain and take me over into a personal hell that was extremely difficult to escape from. I was already in a panic-attack worthy situation.

We were walking through the front doors of the school before I knew it. Craig strolled in front of me, and once we passed the doors I noticed his change in behavior. His eyes switching from left, right, forward; They covered every square inch of everything his eyes could view. He acted like he had just seen it. I brushed this off, but one thing I couldn't put aside was the fact that as we walked, no one seemed to notice his presence. My parents had seen him, why couldn't anyone else?

"It feels like years since I've been here, though I know it's only been days. . . Weird."

Craig tapped his finger against his pant's pocket, and I glanced at his face from behind him. I watched as his blue eyes shifted from the people in the hall, to me. I bit my lip and shivered. Oh Jesus. His gaze really gets to me. As we passed Cartman, I noticed Craig had stopped in his place to flip him off.

"It's a shame he can't see it. He's an asshole." Craig sighed while picking his feet up to walk once more. So he knew. I did my best to not get shoved away from Craig with all the people prying through the halls, having no mercy. I was pushed, shoved, plowed. Yet somehow, Craig (who apparently wasn't visible to anyone.) had a clear area around him. Was his presence that strong? People wouldn't even walk near it?

"EEK!" I gasped loudly as I felt Craig's hand snake around my wrist and snap me up into his isolated little circle. I slapped my non-occupied hand to my mouth in attempt take back my noise. It wasn't working, everyone in the surrounding area had their attention dragged to me.

I was shaking. . .

Why did I have to be born as a weak earthquake wrapped in skin?

Why not born a hero, maybe even a iconic villain. Nope. I'm just the bad event in the story.

I took my attention upwards, as I felt like something wanted it there. Someone. My hunch was right.

Craig's eyes had a pleading aura that wrapped around my entire body, pulling every bit of my focus that had previously been on the staring crowd to his face. He didn't even have to lift a finger. His gaze was rarely this soft.

It diluted all of the mocking faces around me.

I lowered my head and tried to make grabbing onto the bottom of Craig's hoodie seem as natural as humanly possible.

It really wasn't.

Hiraeth Of The Heart (Tweek X Craig)Where stories live. Discover now