Have you ever…
Felt like you needed to run away?
To push your problems away….
Instead of confronting them?
My finger lightly traced the bruised flesh on my younger sisters leg. She flinched, her golden eyes squeezing shut. Her small hand made its way to her short, orange hair. The slender fingers that were attached to said hand combed through the dirty, greasy tresses.
"C-Craig….it hurts…." I avoid staring at her pained expression.
This wasn't the first time we have encountered problems like this. Its just the first time it was this bad.
The bruise started at Ruby's hip, extending down to her knee. It was big, black and ugly. And while I wanted nothing more to pull my little sister into an embrace, squeeze her and reassure her it'd be alright….I knew that I'd be lying and that'd probably hurt her.
My hand shoots back from her skin when I hear her whimper. I hold back the tears that always threaten to fall,
Crying was for cowards.
She pulls the long fabric that is her skirt over her legs to conceal the evidence. I look up at the beautiful, distressed 14 year old girl. This was my fault, it always has been. I stand and stuff my hands into my pockets.
"Why don't you ever come to Mom's house with me…? She misses you, Ruby…." I say as I stare at the red haired girl. She looks at me, giving me a half hearted smile as She limps over to me and hugs me. I sigh, kissing her forehead.
"You're an amazing brother, Craig…." She mumbles. I gently rub her back, staring her in her golden eyes.
"But you know dad doesn't want me talking to you." My breathe hitches and I freeze. Ruby seems to notice this because she looks up at me with watery eyes.
"Craig, why don't you just cry, its okay."
I shake my head, gently pushing her away. I raise my middle finger in salutations as I stomp out of the empty class room and into the emptier hallway
My body was dripping with sweat as winter air nipped away at my flesh. My legs ached and screamed to stop but all I could do was push on. It felt good, the cold air slapping me in the face, the aching. All too good. Something I may not deserve but something I just needed.
After my 4th lap around the school track I come to a halt, falling back onto my ass. I let myself catch my breathe, cradling my head in my hands.
For a few minutes I was alone, in my little sanctuary. I felt tears begin to form…. But I won't let them fall. Tthat gross feeling you get when you're upset was washing over my body and taking it over like the plague. My eyes are downcast, gazing down at the track that I was just running in deep contemplation of this situation at hand.
Its best not to think about it, I know it. I also know that no matter how much I do it won't matter. Because I won't do anything about it.
Came a questioning voice that I knew all too well. Without looking up I raise my middle finger. I blink away those threatening tears and take in the confused expression of Kyle Broflovski.
We stay there awkwardly for a few moments, him staring at me and me staring at nothing. Did I have something on my face?
"M-ms Choksondik wants you back in English class…" he spits out. His eyes were drilling into me with curiosity, and I wouldn't blame him. If I found the all mighty Craig all teary eyed and upset I'd be curious to.
"Alright," I say in response as I begin to rise. I wrap my arms around myself and begin to tread in the direction of the school.
"Class," The red clad women started, she gently placed a pile of papers down on the desk of the kid seated next to me.
"I'd like to introduce this semester's assignment. It will be giving you a chance to get to know your peers a bit more." She smiles at us as she signals for Thomas—the kid with the papers to start handng them out. I glance down at the white paper and ink infront of me his quivering hand places it there.
"This semester you will be assigned a journal to be writing with your assigned buddy." Ms. Choksondik states as Thomas scurries back to his desk. There is a silence that seems to signal all of our discomfort. My eyes instantly shot to Kenny, the closest thing I have to a friend in my fucked up social life.
"You are to get to know your buddy better, and write a poem, song, or essay at the end of this semester." Her back is now turned as she picks up a piece of chalk, scribbling down something on the bored.
"I will pick your partner," She says as she writes down the first pair. Oddly enough, it's the two people I'd like to work with.
"Kenny and Clyde, please move your desk together. Thomas will hand out the journals since he already knows the pairs," There is a stream of curses that comes from the blond haired boy. His quivering body makes its way towards the front of the room as Ms. C continues writing down the names. I let out a groan and slam my head on the table, obviously not liking the idea of this project.
Several minutes pass until I hear my name being called. Ms Choksondik's loud voice pierces through the peaceful silence that I had grown comfortable in.
"Craig and Kyle. Please move your desk together."
I glare down at my desk as the red haired boy inches closer to me. He pushes the marvel notebook in front of me.
"I guess one of us has to do the introductions?" I stare at him like he has grown a million heads, was he insane? Its not like I actually intended to partake in this silly project.
He seems to have taken the hint because his hazel eyes burn into me, signaling his rage.
"you know, I want to get a good grade and I'm pretty sure you want to get your ass out of this high school yourself. So work with me, Craig." He states as he snatches the book. He begins scribbling down what I am assuming is sure to be nonsense. We sit there for a good ten minutes before he shoves the marvel notebook to my chest.
I flip open the cover, reading what has been scribbled down.
Dear Dairy or CRAIG,
We were assigned to do this project. And I am being forced to work with an insolent, sulky teenage boy named Craig Tucker. From first glance he is just a short, pissed off human being. But of course we have to look through the inside of someone.
So Craig, lets put the past aside and forget about lost birthday money and at least try to get a decent grade. Who knows. Maybe we can form a secret friendship?
Nah. But you know, being that I am your school buddy I am compelled to come to and have you come to me with your problems.
I look up from the note, at Broflovski and raise my middle finger.
A/N: Hey, Nay speaking. This is a collaboration project between my friend and i….c: ((PaopuSora))
This shall be rather interesting, no?