Chapter Text
Inky blackness stretched out forever into the expanse of space all around me, the only light those of glittering stars. I looked around for any sign of life, but it was just me and the stars. I was drifting in nothing but a T-shirt and boxers. The cold was biting, and I could feel it seeping into my bones, but I was too stunned to shiver. My breath came out in clouds of mist, and I watched them dissipate into the void.
As I spun slowly, I caught sight of a distant nebula, its colors swirling in a cosmic dance. It was beautiful, mesmerizing even, but it did little to comfort me. Is this a dream? I pinched myself hard. The pain was real, sharp, and sudden. It had to be a dream, though; if I were actually in space, I'd be dead. Right?
Maybe I am dead. Would that be so bad?
"Hello?" I called out, my voice swallowed by the vastness.
There was nothing but silence in reply. It's thick and heavy, a suffocating blanket of emptiness that made me question if I'd even spoken. The stars just blinked at me. Indifferent and uncaring, they seemed to mock my solitude.
Trying to steady my breathing, I looked around, searching for something familiar. Just above me, the constellation Orion, its belt unmistakable. I had always loved stargazing, learning the patterns and the names of constellations. Somehow, recognizing Orion brought a small measure of comfort. I scanned the sky and found Cassiopeia, her distinctive 'W' shape like an old friend. The familiar patterns made the vast emptiness more bearable.
I noticed a faint glow to my left. Turning, I saw a small object floating towards me. It was a golden sphere, about the size of a golf ball, with a smooth surface that reflected starlight. Or was it glowing? As it drew nearer, it shone brighter and began to emit a soft, melodic chime, a sound that seemed to echo through the vastness of space. I reached out hesitantly, and it floated into my palm.
"Welcome, Craig," a voice echoed from the sphere. Something about it was calm and soothing. "You have been chosen."
"Chosen?" I asked, my face blank. It was a stark contrast to the panic rising within me, but old habits died hard. "Chosen for what?" I asked, my voice monotone and uncaring.
"For a journey," the sphere replied. "One that very few are privileged to undertake."
"What kind of journey?" I pressed more out of habit than curiosity. This was just f*cking weird.
"A journey of discovery," the sphere continued, "one that will shape your destiny."
The sphere's glow intensified, and I felt a warmth spread through my body, pushing back the cold. "It will be hard, but you, Craig Tucker, are not alone. The stars will guide you as they always have."
I took a deep breath, feeling a strange sense of calm settle over me. "Okay," I said more to myself than the sphere. I felt a pull, gentle but insistent, guiding me through the vastness of space. Stars blurred into streaks of light, and the universe seemed to shift around me.
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I woke with a start, my heart pounding in my ears, my lungs gasping for air. The inky blackness faded as the morning light streamed in through the gap between my bedroom curtains, tinting the room in blue. A light breeze and some snowflakes blowing in through my open window. No wonder I was freezing. At least I'd worn my hat to bed.
I turned my back and stared at the stars on my ceiling, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I yawned. It had been so vivid, so real. But it was just a dream. I should stop smoking before bed.
A knock came at the door, the sound of my mother's voice ringing out from behind.
"It's time to get up, munchkin!"
I hate when she calls me that. I'm 16, not 5 years old. Pulling the blankets up over my head as if that could hide me from the world, I let out a groan. "Five more minutes," I mutter.
"No can do, Craig." I can hear her swing the door open, her voice in the room with me as she continues, "You don't want to miss the bus again, do you?"
Uncaring, I made no move to get out of bed. If I had it my way, school wouldn't be in the cards today. Trying to will her into leaving my room, I buried my face into my pillows just as I felt the blankets being tugged off me.
"No," I grumbled into my pillow, tucking my legs into my T-shirt to ward off the sudden cold.
"Come on, munchkin, up you get." She sighed and then added more sternly, "If you are not out of this bed in 5 minutes, I'm throwing away the waffles I made you for breakfast."
Oh for f*ck-sake
“Okay," I replied in the most sarcastic tone, lifting my head just enough to glare at her only to find she'd already left the room.
I would be an idiot to miss out on her waffles. I sighed, reluctantly forcing myself out of bed. Without bothering to open the curtains, I stood barefoot in the center of my chaotically messy room, observing clothes scattered all over the floor. I picked up a crumpled T-shirt from the floor, giving the thing a quick sniff before pulling it over my head. Pulling on some basic black jeans and my blue hoodie before leaving the room.
I trudged down the stairs, and the smell of waffles and syrup grew stronger, drawing me into the kitchen. My mom was at the stove, flipping waffles onto a plate. She turned and gave me a small smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.
Tricia was sitting at the table, a plate of waffles already in front of her. She looked up as I entered. "When are you going to ditch that stupid hat?" she said.
"Never," I replied dully, plopping down in my usual seat. Trying not to look at my dad's vacant seat. "It's part of my charm."
Tricia rolled her eyes. "Charm. Right."
Mom sat a plate of syrup-drowned waffles in front of me and then ruffled the puffball atop my head, kissing my cheek briefly. "Really, though, Craig, why the hat?"
"I don't know," I shrugged, unconsciously reaching up to tug my hat lower.
Mom sat down in her usual spot, settled into her plate of waffles, and sipped coffee.
"Oh my god, stop brooding and just eat your waffles." Tricia piped up, earning her the middle finger.
She flipped me off and returned once again to her plate. I picked up my fork and ate in stoic silence. I hadn't been to school in two weeks, and last night, Mom practically demanded that things weren't going to get better if we all sat moping around. I wasn't moping, I just didn't f*cking care. School was pointless. But I was going because it was easier than arguing.
"Craig," Mom called from the table just as I opened the front door. "Try to have a good day, okay? And stay out of trouble."
"I'll try," I said, not looking at her as I slipped out the front door.
Outside, the air was crisp, and the snow crunched under my boots as I made my way to the bus stop. When I got there, I spotted Jimmy and Clyde. Two of the Three people I tolerated enough to call my friends. I had been Clyde's best friend since elementary, and I suppose the feeling was mutual.
Clyde was a loudmouth who never stopped talking, and it was perfect because that meant I didn't have to do much talking. He was already rambling about something when I approached the two of them under the bus stop covering.
"He sits next to me in Earth Science, and it's the worst! The kid's a spaz and doesn't know when to shut up! If my grade drops because I can't think with him interrupting every 5 minutes, my dad will kill me!"
"I t-tried talking to him in History, But t-the kid doesn't t-t-talk unless it's t-to scream in p-p-paranoia. He called me an a-alien when I-I tried." Jimmy nodded
Furrowing my eyebrows slightly in slight confusion, I tried to remember a kid like that in our History class but couldn't come up with anything. "Who?"
Clyde's eyes lit up as he realized I was here. "CRAIG!" He launched himself at me, wrapping his arms around me tightly. "You're coming to school today?!"
"Obviously," I said, shoving Clyde off me. Clyde was too touchy all the damn time.
"Awesome, man! We missed you," Clyde said, grinning widely.
Jimmy, seeming to realize my need for a change of subject, continued, "Anyways, there t-this new k-kid, Tweek. He s-s-started last w-week, so you h-haven't met him y-yet. He's a f-f-freak."
"He's just... different," Clyde said, shaking his head. "Like, really paranoid and jittery. But he's harmless, I guess."
Jimmy nodded. "Y-Yeah, he's n-nice, but s-super anxious. D-Don't know how h-he'll fit in h-here."
The bus arrived with a squeal of brakes, and we all climbed aboard. I took a seat near the back, Jimmy and Clyde following me. The bus was filled with the usual chaos of kids shouting and laughing. Clyde and Jimmy were talking again, but I tuned it out, staring out the window as the town of South Park blurred by until the school came into view.
I didn't bother stopping at my locker before class. First period was history, and Mr. Stewart barely bothered to teach anything himself. Why bother when YouTube could do your job for you? All we ever did in his class was watch videos.
I sat in my usual seat at the back, Jimmy joining me shortly before the bell. Mr. Stewart passed out a handout for us to fill out while we watched today's video of choice. Still, instead of reviewing it like Jimmy, I crossed my arms on my desk and tucked my face into my elbow, ready to spend this hour napping. Until…
"ACK! THEY'RE COMING!" A loud screech interrupted the drone of the video on screen, followed by a dull thunk.
Lifting my head in confusion, my eyes find a wiry blonde sitting in the usually unoccupied seat to my left. Nobody else had bothered to look his way. This must be 'Tweek.' His antics were already expected by everyone else and consequently ignored.
"Oh, Jesus," Tweek whimpered. He was hunched over his desk, his bright green eyes darting around the room like he was expecting an ambush. The rest of the class continued to ignore the twitchy boy. "They're going to -ngh- g-get me!"
Our eyes connected briefly, and he squeaked as he realized eyes were on him. Looking away quickly, he tangled his spindly fingers into his wild golden locks. He tugged roughly on his hair and twitched violently. Anxiety was practically radiating off him.
I couldn't take my eyes off of him as the boy pulled a thermos from his bag. He fumbled with it, dropping it on the floor. He reached for it, nearly falling out of his seat as he scrambled after the thing. Finally getting the lid off, he took several gulps.
He continued to mutter under his breath, his eyes looking everywhere but back at me. I stared at him, unable to look away. It was like watching a car crash-you just couldn't look away.
Jimmy nudged me. "D-don't stare too m-m-much," he whispered. "H-he's s-s-sensitive."
"Yeah, I can see that," I replied quietly, turning my attention back to Tweek. As if on cue, the blonde smacked his head on the desk again and screeched.
I rested my head back on my arms, trying to close my eyes and force myself to take a nap; maybe he'd be quiet long enough for me to get a couple minutes of sleep if I wasI'm not staring at him.
For a few minutes, I managed to drift into a light doze. The video droned on in the background, a monotone hum that blended with the soft rustle of paper as my classmates took notes and occasional whispers. Just as I felt myself slip into a deeper sleep, another loud thud jolted me awake.
I lifted my head enough to look at Tweek again. I watched him for a moment before deciding that sleep was a lost cause. I pulled a pencil out of my bag and tried to focus on the handout's questions, but my mind kept drifting to Tweek. What was his deal?
As the bell rang, Tweek scrambled to gather his things, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to leave. I watched him go until he was out of sight.
"S-so," Jimmy nudged me again as we packed up our stuff to leave. It barely took me any time to shove my pencil and paper haphazardly into my bag. "What d-d you t-think? He asked, nodding towards the door.
"He's definitely something," I replied, still staring after Tweek.
