I rush off to math class, not wanting to go. I don't want the kids poking fun at me, pointing their nasty fingers and laughing. But I have to go. My education shouldn't get in the way of bullies. I'm Craig, the monotone asshole who beats up people who make fun of him and is strong and feelingless. But now I think that image of me is gone.

Gone. Gone forever.

I take my usual seat in the back, all alone. Who wants to sit next to the faggy weirdo with no feelings? I know I wouldn't. Too bad I'm the faggy weirdo.

Clyde comes in the classroom, holding Bebe's hand. I grimace. I fucking hate them so goddamn much. They pick on Tweek for being an adorable spaz and calling him a freak and weird. Clyde used to be friends with me and Tweek. What happened?

Clyde kisses Bebe's lips and surprisingly, walks over to me, a big smirk on his face. I look away, knowing what he wants.

He takes the seat next to mine and taps my shoulder. I look over at him and ask in my usual monotone voice, "What?"

"Sooooooo......" He smirks and chuckles. "How long have you been gay?"

I feel my face heat up and my hands clench into fists. "Why does that matter?" I say in a raspy, pissed off voice.

He looks away for a second and scratches the back of his neck. "Well..." He looks back at me and rests his arm down on his desk. "I just want to know that you were never checking me out."

I snort and look away. "Why would I ever check you out?"

"Cause I'm hot as fuck and my personality is beautiful."

I look over at him. "Who told you that? Bebe?"

He nods. "Yeah, of course she did. I am her boyfriend, after all."

"Want me to tell you the truth?"

He narrows his eyes at me. "About what?"

I ignore his question and continue. "You're ugly as fuck, you're an asshole, you suck ass, you're just dating Bebe cause she has big boobs, and I hate how you hurt Tweek. You used to be friends with us! Why did you break it off!?" I feel my anger rise from within my locked up soul.

He stares at me in shock and hurt. "I didn't push you away. You pushed me away!"

"And how exactly did I do that?"

"Well, first off, you stopped hanging out with us and just sat alone in your house. Why is that? Yeah, I know your mom died, but you still could've hanged out with us. Were you trying to help your dad or something?"

I shake my head and look away. "You're better off without me."

He frowns and says, "Hey, how about we start over?"

I glance at him. "How?"

"I'm having a huge party tomorrow night that everyone is going to. Why don't you come?"

"Is Tweek going?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. I haven't talked to him in a while. Next time I see him, I'll ask him."

The teacher comes in and says, "Okay students, today you're going to role play with a partner of your choice." Which just means that she's too lazy to teach. She sits down at her desk chair while we all continue to get a partner.

Clyde pushes his desk up against mine and says, "So...what do you want to role play?"

I shrug. "I don't know." Then I feel a piece of paper hit the right side of my head.

I look down to see that it's a paper airplane. I open it up and stare down at the red word on it, glaring at me in the face.

Fag.

I look around the room, trying to figure out who it could've been. From my conclusions, I couldn't find anyone. But when I do, I'll beat the shit out of them.

Clyde takes the paper airplane from me and reads it, frowning. Then he crumples it up, throwing it in a nearby trash can. "Don't listen to them. They're an asshole."

I ignore him and feel my hands start to shake. This happens every time I'm insulted because it reminds me of my father and the voices in my head that torture me everyday. Some may say that I take things too hard, but when you have an abusive father and your own thoughts that hate you, then you would take everything to heart.

I get up and say to Clyde, "I have to go to the bathroom." I grab my backpack and walk out the door, the teacher yelling at me. I flip her off.

I rush to the bathroom and lock the door, having it all to myself. I fall down to my knees, gripping my hair, crying. I can't deal with the pain. I take off my backpack and pull out my knife, wishing I had the guts to stab myself in the stomach, ending it all until so I may end my fall. I take off my sweater and throw it on the ground, all of my obvious cuts glistening in the bathroom light. I start to cry even harder, wishing for death to just take me away. This life is driving me insane.

I want to burn.

I want to hurt.

I want to die.

I want to end it all.

I want to stop this treacherous fall.

I look at my arms, hardly seeing any skin that's not cut. I take off my shirt and press the blade into my shoulder, knowing that I have plenty of more places to scar up than my arms. I make a few slices at first, and then pick up my pace. If only I could find an easy way to die...

I suddenly hear a knock on the bathroom door. "Craig? Are you in there?" It's Clyde.

I quickly put back on my shirt and sweater and shove my knife back into my bag. I swing my bag over my shoulder and walk over to the door, unlocking it. It swings open, almost hitting me in the face, but I quickly move out of the way.

Clyde gives me a quizzical look. "What were you doing in there?"

"Nothing." I push past him, but I forgot to zip up my bag. When my backpack slams into him, my bloody knife falls out. Then I look over at my shoulder to see blood soaking into my sweater. Panicking, I take off my bag, putting on my leather jacket and feeling safe once again.

I turn around after putting back on my bag to see Clyde holding my blade. "Hey give that back." I try to grab it, but he shoves me back into the bathroom so I fall on my ass and locks the door. Then he turns to me.

"Okay, you're going to tell me what's going on right now or I swear to God, I will report your weapon to the office."

I feel my eyes grow wide with fear. "You can't take it away from me," I whisper.

He comes over and kneels before with a sympathetic look on his face. "Then tell me what's going on."

I sigh, staring down at the floor.

I guess I have no choice...