Song: Despicable by Grandson
Tweek was laying in bed, trying to get some sleep, but being unsuccessful. He had somewhat fixed his sleeping patterns from elementary school, but it wasn't turning out right tonight. He'd been tossing and turning for hours now. It was currently 2:30 am, so he had lost hope in sleeping a while ago. Suddenly, he heard his phone buzz.
Looking over, Tweek saw he got a message from Craig. He squinted a bit and texted him.
C- Hey you up?
T- Yeah, can't sleep
C- Can you meet me at the park
T- Sure, but why?
C- I'll explain when we get there.
Tweek began to get nervous. He wondered why Craig wouldn't tell him why he wanted to see him, and why he was up this late anyway, and why it seemed so urgent. Did something happen? Was Craig ok? Did he just want to see Tweek?
"I hate overthinking..." Tweek muttered to himself as he put on some clothes and panicked.
He quickly threw on a jacket and put his phone in his pocket. Tweek quietly opened the window and headed out, being sure not to wake his parents.
Soon enough, Craig spotted Tweek walking into the park as he was just sitting on a bench, waiting. He took a deep breath and stood, knowing what he had to do now.
"He-hey Craig..."
"Hi." He said simply.
Tweek knew that this was unusual. Usually, when he was panicked or anxious, Craig would call him honey. And, instead of having a poker face or a slightly happy expression, Craig seemed... Sad in a way. He was also avoiding eye contact.
"E-ev-everything okay?" He quickly asked, more panicked.
"Tweek, I'm... I'm breaking up with you..." Craig then muttered, looking down. Tweek felt his heart stop.
"W... what...?"
"You keep getting hurt because we're together. I asked you out. I started it. So I'm... I'm going to make it end." Craig started tearing up. "It's for the best."
Tweek was now crying. "B-But I love you...!! You sa- you said you didn't care what other people thought!"
"I wouldn't care if it didn't hurt you... I love you, but it's for your own good..." Craig felt like he was going to start sobbing, but didn't. Instead, he just walked away. He couldn't do this in front of Tweek. Not right now.
Behind him, he heard Tweek sobbing, and yelling "I love you!" It got quieter as he got closer to home.
Right as he climbed back into his room, he broke down sobbing. He covered his mouth to avoid making too much noise. Tears steamed down quickly, and his thoughts raced. He felt awful for having to do this, but thought it was the best solution. This was his fault in the first place, so it was his mess to pick up, and it was what he had to live with now. He could only hope that he wouldn't see Tweek much at school. He couldn't dare to ever look at him again.
Filled with grief, Craig didn't know how to handle it at all. He felt the urge to harm himself. Of course, this wasn't his first time. He had many burn marks and scars on both his arms and thighs. He went over to his desk and took out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He went back outside and crawled up onto the roof, tears still going down his face.
Craig sat down and lit a cigarette. He put it in his mouth and pulled up both his sleeves. For a while, he sat on the roof, crying, smoking and pressing the lit cigarettes against his skin, burning him.
Tweek was in no better condition. He was home now, crying his eyes out. He absolutely hated himself at this moment. It was because he was such a mess, wasn't it? Was that the real reason Craig broke up with him? Was he ugly? Was there someone else? Did he just fall out of love? No matter the reason, Tweek blamed himself for all of this.
Tweek stumbled to his bedside drawer to get his razor. How else was he supposed to handle this? He just lost the only thing he's currently living for. So what was the point in trying to take care of himself anymore? Craig didn't care anymore, so why should he?
He pulled up his sleeves and pressed the razor against his scarred, fragile skin. He made a cut across, watching the blood surface. He did this again and again, leaving a small amount of space of bare skin on himself. Tweek stopped, but also started to pick at the skin on his thumbs and lips.
The blood from cutting was steaming down his wrists and onto the bottom of his sleeves. At the end of all this, Tweek was covered in his own blood and tears. He was even more of a mess than usual. There was no way in hell he would sleep at all tonight.
