Song: Doubt by Twenty One Pilots
Crying. Again.
As fucking always.
Clyde sat up in his room, crying his eyes out again.
It was his mother's birthday.
His father, Rodger, wasn't even in the house at this time. He was at the store, leaving Clyde completely alone.
Clyde was obviously still grieving pretty bad over his mom's death back in elementary school. But, don't be fooled. He was crying like this most days. But the thing was... He wasn't really sure that he even had a reason to be doing this.
Sobbing, Clyde buried his face in his knees as he sat on his empty bed. It hurt a lot to cry, actually. It mostly hurt his sinuses and throat. Although he was most likely sick, he really didn't care to tell his father, and Rodger didn't seem to care enough to notice. It was simply just a cold or something, so why should Clyde bother?
Truthfully, he hadn't been paying any mind to his health. He didn't eat too much; it was often just junk food and soda that he took in, keeping it all in his room with him. A bad habit, really, to keep on. But he didn't really find trouble in it.
Even if he should be excited for Spring break, that started today, Clyde was still fucking depressed.
No matter how many times his father tried to take him out on vacation to just have fun and try and cheer him up, nothing worked.
Even his medicine was starting to become useless.
The only thing that Rodger really relied on to try to make his son happy again was going out on trips as soon as they could. And, here, there was an opportunity. There was some time off of school, so they could have some time off on another vacation, and especially with his friends.
For this trip, they were going to Zion National Park. He figured, Clyde probably needed some time in the outdoors, and definitely needed more vitamin D.
He hadn't been going out much since the sudden start of the deaths of his friends.
Rodger had been at the store grabbing all of the supplies they'd need. He already had two hotel rooms with the kids' room having four beds prepared. These were for Clyde, Jimmy, Stan, and Kenny. He had contacted all of their parents a while ago, so this wasn't at all a problem for him.
Although, considering he did this a while ago, there were some times where he had to change the number of beds in a hotel room due to... Cancellations.
As soon as Rodger came home, he heard his son sobbing upstairs. He knew ahead of time that he'd feel even worse today, considering it was the birth date of his late mother. Everything must've been ten times worse for the poor boy.
Walking upstairs, Rodger headed up to Clyde's room. He felt a wave of empathy as he heard his cries contained to that one room.
He then knocked on the door.
"Clyde?" Rodger called out, loud enough for his son to hear. "Can I come in?"
After a bit of shuffling around and some sniffles, there was finally a response.
"Sure."
Rodger walked in and saw Clyde sitting on his bed, looking down at his phone now.
"Hey bud..." He sat down in front of him. "I've got another trip planned for over break."
"Where?" Clyde asked numbly.
"Zion National Park," He started, trying to make it sound more exciting, "There are plenty of places to hike and walk around. I think it'll be refreshing." He smiled a bit, hopefully.
"Ok."
"And guess what?"
"What?"
"I was able to afford rooms for three of your friends and their parents."
"Oh, cool... Who'd you invite?"
"Jimmy... Uh, Stan, and Kenny...?" Rodger said slowly, trying to remember all of their names.
"Cool." Clyde said, giving his father a very underwhelming reaction.
"Alright, well, start packing, okay? We're leaving tomorrow at 7."
"Ok."
Rodger then left Clyde on his own again, seeing that he wouldn't really respond with much now.
As soon as his father left, Clyde started crying again. He covered his mouth with his hand to avoid being too loud.
God.
He fucking hated himself.
Clyde woke up around 6am after a rough night of trying to sleep. It was obvious that it didn't work out too well, though, as he looked like a complete disaster.
His chocolate hair was sticking up everywhere, and it wasn't a problem he tried too hard to fix anymore. His matching brown eyes were dull and tired-looking with noticeable bags and dark circles.
So, his appearance was pretty much the same as it usually was.
The only thing Clyde really did to get ready was shower quickly and get dressed. He wore a typical outfit: a red hoodie and blue jeans with some sneakers. Luckily, his bag was already pre-packed, due to the amount of time he had to do so last night. He didn't bother to pack much of anything.
Soon enough, it was time to pick up Stan and his family, and head to the national park.
The whole car ride to Stan's, Clyde stared out the window, not really wanting to exist anymore. But, unlike some people, he didn't have the guts to kill himself, unfortunately enough for him.
Since the house wasn't too far, it didn't take long to get to the stop. Clyde watched from the third row back of the car as Randy got in the front with Rodger, and Sharon a d all of their bags got in the middle row, and finally, Stan in the far back with him. He didn't really mind all that much. Maybe the ride wouldn't be so treacherous with someone to talk with through it all.
As Stan sat next to him, Clyde muttered a simple, "Hey."
"Hey." He replied, strapping the seatbelt.
The two sat in silence for a bit as Rodger drove away, now going to their final stop. After only a few minutes, Clyde saw Stan reaching in his bag through his peripheral vision.
Glancing over, he saw that he had a bottle. It looked like a beer bottle, and he seemed to have a couple of them with him. None of the adults seemed to notice him doing this.
"Dude..." Clyde muttered to avoid attracting anyone else's attention. "You brought beer?"
"Obviously." Stan replied sarcastically.
"God..."
"What, you want some?" He then offered. This took Clyde aback a bit.
He's never drank before, but in reality, wasn't completely against trying it at least once.
"I guess I could."
"Here," Stan handed him a bottle, "Whatever you don't drink I'll have." He muttered, taking a swig from his own drink.
Clyde opened the bottle and looked down inside it. He could smell it from where he was; it had almost a sweet, fruity scent. But, when he took a drink, it felt anything but sweet and pleasant.
The alcohol burned down Clyde's throat as he swallowed it.
"You'll get used to it." Stan said.
He was right about this. As he did drink, it didn't feel as bad anymore. He started to even feel numb mentally, rather than sad, like always.
If he had beer by his side, Clyde figured, maybe this trip wouldn't be so shitty after all.
