Chapter Text
Craig Tucker needed a break. His head was throbbing, skull breaking apart due to the pressure of such an unbelievably exhausting session he was absolutely unnecessarily forced to attend. As he got off the bus earlier to successfully evade a hysterically screaming baby in a rather small green stroller, he hopped on his old used up black-blue skateboard with a Pokemon logo on the back side. Craig took a long ride through the streets. His extremities ached and chest began to constrict with every other house he passed. To a longed for happiness, he had not come across, didn't add up the fact that it was raining the cats and dogs outside.
Yet he was too exhausted to even keep attention, Craig needed peace and loneliness at least for a bit. It was Saturday after all. A day supposed for resting, not lessons and stupid opened up questions still flying unanswered on top of the ceiling in Mr. Mackey's office. They gossiped and repulsively slandered about the boy, still loyally awaiting Craig to ignore them again next weekend. Those ridiculous pains in the ass kept on hanging behind Craig’s exhausted legs like a hundred ton iron ball chained to them.
He felt like a goddamn prisoner and honestly, fuck it. He thought he was a bloody prisoner.
He didn't exactly know what he was so apprehensive of but life itself wouldn't be completely off of the list honestly. Of course, Craig had a loving family (even though he felt embarrassed whenever he thought about them), a solid roof under his head, friends with whom he never truly is certain, if they hang out with him just because they attend the same school, nevertheless he liked them.
Craig’s most precious friend was and always had been his Guinea pig. On Christmas, the year Craig turned 4 years old, his mother got pregnant with Patricia. Craig remembers being extremely negative about the whole situation. If he was ever certain of something, it was the fact that he wanted to be alone sometimes, however also to have attention whenever he wanted and not just at the times his parents had had time for him. Therefore Thomas Tucker decided that Craig needed a fluffy friend to talk to whenever he felt like he needed it. Craig wanted a dog. Nevertheless he still loves Stripe, in spite of her being the fourth he had ever owned. Stripe 1,2 and freshly 3 are all buried in their garden.
Anyway Craig's inner-self was… how to put it…well… drained. And that's another reason why he felt so strongly offended by his own self. This fatigue was wrong. He had everything a human needs, some had nothing and they still manage. That must mean just one thing. He is just weak. Weak and disgusting. He'd even bet that if he disappeared for a few months, nobody would notice and even presumably become happier... Craig doesn’t remember the times he would care though. Genuinely these days he began believing that those times he felt... were never there.
His mind got suddenly so bloated and odd that nothing made sense and Craig hated that. It was one of the few things he was frankly aware of. And not to mention that the quantum of those certain beliefs was extremely low, there existed so few of those things that he could count them simply on fingers. Craig was aware of his unhealthy annoyance towards the world, towards the people around him which seemed to have never been thought to shut up by their parents, towards the people who only ever cared about themselves, claiming that they are not selfish at all, towards the shabbiness of being accused and judged by them, even though they never even gave a bit of an effort to meet you at all. Towards his dumb friends and family who just can’t understand, towards his ludicrous counselor who keeps asking questions to which Craig either doesn’t know the answer or would never tell him anyway and finally towards him own self, for being exactly the kid possessing every trait the enumeration above showed.
Because Craig hated himself.
The first time he clearly admitted it was when he said it out loud in front of a long mirror hanging above his mother’s wardrobe. He said it to his own reflection which he couldn’t believe was his true image. The person standing stiff in front of the mirror was not Craig. At least that’s how it had always felt. Since then the thorny burden of those emotions kept flying in a grey cloud around his tired head. Firstly he wanted to ignore those thoughts and hell he did well, until…
“Hey, asshole! Watch out!” some grumpy man yelled from an opened car-window. Craig didn’t bother to answer or to react. Conversely he proceeded to skate in the middle of the streets, making the drivers go crazy. He enjoyed making chaos occasionally. Especially after his appointments, they pissed him off. Otherwise he enjoyed life being boring, that’s the way he liked it. Because when you have nothing to react to, you can’t feel disappointed or miserable.
The door-lock clinked.
“Mum! Brother’s at home!” Craig’s brows furrowed the second he heard his sister scream in the living room. When he passed by the TV and his sister was sprawling on the sofa, making faces at him, he made sure that his eye-roll was as irresistibly striking as possible. As Craig tossed his soaking wet body on her, she began screaming, swearing and kicking. He laughed. It was the kind of bonding no other than a sibling would understand.
A soft, yet rigorous female voice scolded them loudly, coming from the kitchen: "Stop bullying each other, kids! Or else I'll give the whole cake to your father!" Craig groaned in response: "I don't care for a stupid cake, just give me some damn space! Also what the fuck are you watching? Paw Patrols, oh please!" Craig teased Tricia as he forcefully stole a remote control from her strong squeeze, showing effortlessly a middle-finger to her face. "MUM! CRAIG'S HITTING ME AND HE'S RUDE AGAIN! OUCH! IT HURTS! IT HUUUUURTS!!!" Tricia yelled as much as she managed.
"Please, Craig, let her be for at least till I can eat your cake because you both behave terribly. Think of your old parents sometimes, Craig. We're not as young as we used to be," Craig stiffened as he heard dad's rough provocative comment. Thomas Tucker was irritated, Craig better should not anger him more. "Okay," Craig said and gave Tricia the control back. She smirked maliciously as she kicked him slightly to his back while he was getting up. Craig made a face of a slapped arse in return. He approached lazily to the kitchen where both his parents camped. Father was reading some newspapers wearing a thoughtful look on his face. On the other hand his mother was quick on her feet and vigorously danced around while preparing something delicious to eat.
Craig loved his parents. However, his mother... He admired her endlessly. The Noirette adored Laura Tucker for her never-ceasing self-confidence and energy. She was always on her feet, occupying herself with numerous activities and tasks and she never complained. No, she loved it. And that's what Craig's been missing since day one. Passion.
"Honey, how was your session today?" Laura asked, not turning away from the cooker. "Okay," Craig lied. "Damn it boy, get changed before you drip here a whole lake," Thomas reprehended his son and gave him that look. Craig would never show it on the outside but whenever he saw his father get at least a bit disappointed, his chest began throbbing and beating fast enough to hurt. "Okay." Is what Thomas got in return. "Boy, can you even say anything else than an okay?" Thomas looked up to glare at Craig. Craig stared back, refusing to react otherwise. Thomas only sighed loudly and returned back to the world of news.
Craig had lots of work to do but instead he changed into pajamas and jumped at his bed. Lately he kept feeling exhausted all the time and worse, never satisfied. He felt guilty for being that way too… especially today. Craig hated being lonely but loved being alone. After his former "venting" friend Thomas left for a different country, he didn't even have more people to vent to.
Of course, he had Clyde. Clyde Donovan lived literally next door. They'd known each other since maybe birth and to be honest, to Craig Clyde Donovan was nothing less than a brother. They shared everything together. From bikes, clothes or books to thoughts, emotions, dreams and worries. Still Craig desired more. Clyde's been busy, being an extroverted dork attending parties and any activities he got invited to. (A lot) He's always been the talkative one and even though Craig and Clyde shared a friend group formed since elementary school, Clyde had infinitely more dudes to hang out with. Not that Craig would be jealous. He was happy for Clyde but he missed him. He missed his other friends too. Since high school Tolkien's joined the literature and baseball clubs and when he wasn't spending time there he hung out with Nichole. Jimmy had enough of his own troubles and just whatever dude. Craig… somehow didn't feel like he belonged in their group anymore. He didn't feel like he fitted in anywhere really and that drove him crazy.
That's why he opened his laptop and searched for his comfort show: "Red Racer".
"But Roman, Issac's just left to the engine, it's been beeping dangerously since the Minions attacked." Craig recited the script before Dianne Red-Gregory said the line herself. "Dianne! Issac is the traitor! He tried to kill Vanessa in the vaults just a few minutes ago! Hurry!" Craig's monotonous voice sounded ridiculous in a combination of the dramatization in his favorite show. "Get your mischievous but up here and tell me what in the hell has a Japanese government in common with all this junk, Issac. Or may I call you …traitor?!" Somehow not even Red racer relaxed him either.
Mr. Mackey was wrong. Craig was not doing better. He just remained silent. Lame and boring, just the way Craig liked it. Craig thought there was no real reason to change his personality just because he didn't like people or enjoy their company. People around him do ignore him a lot but that's the way Craig wants it, he doesn't crave attention. He craves loneliness and peace. But apparently, that was a problem. So after he failed three of his subjects last semester and claimed he didn't mind or care at all, not only his psychological help-rejecting parents began searching up medical help in their vicinity but also the school counselor made Craig attend these stupid appointments. They said Craig became apathetic and that is frankly not normal for a boy his age but honestly why do they care anyway? It's not like their life would be somehow connected with his brain, why won't they just leave him be. He does not affect their mind-sets by just existing quietly, doesn't he?
"Fuck this," Craig sighed as he closed the laptop. Not even Red racer or Reddit have the ability to cheer him up today. It's just one of those bad days. Craig lays down on his bed in a position people put dead bodies in a coffin. Watching a ceiling or walls for hours is a hobby too after all… Maybe. It gives you enough time to think and when you think you become miserable. Being miserable was good, it made you feel alive because feelings are never really kind. The good ones only pretending to be so and when you're not looking, they stab you in your back. Passion and pleasure… they never last.
One moment you feel ecstatic and in seconds desperate. Hurt. Not that Craig has ever experienced that...
He wouldn't allow it.