Chapter Text
Cartman rested on an open couch, all the dread from that morning now sinking into him like a stale coffee. He knew what was coming and half of him knew it was deserved. The soft brush of cushions stung at his arms, a dark purple bruise pounding in its wake. “Fuck you Kyle, Kenny and Stan.. I hope you shit heads get what you deserve..” He sighed in a raspy tone before lifting up a beverage. Sure the cool compress distracted it, but it sure as hell didn’t last long when his mother abruptly came down the stairs. “Cartman, sweetie.. I know you don’t look well but mom could use some help around here.” With his mind on autopilot a sheet of static began to void his thoughts. He knew what those words ment, and he knew them well. This was gonna fucking hurt.
The next morning was as shitty as usual. Pulling his beanie on he gripped at the bathroom sink, a pool of blood beneath his mouth. The mirror didn’t seem all that appealing to look at but what the hell were you supposed to do when it’s your own reflection. “Fucking great.” He hissed, the sting of air greeting him as he slammed the door behind. Attempting to dodge dog shit on his way and hurdles of left out gum he arrived at the bus stop. Just who he wanted to see. “Hey fatass, are the pounds not treating you well?” Kenny met his side with a taunt. Cartman decided not to ape-shit rip his face off then and there so he dismissed it. ‘’Piss off..’’ He grunted. ‘’Jee, cartman who shit in your cheerios?’’ Kenny joked, prompting the other two boys next to him to snicker. ‘’Yeah, Cartman, you're acting more of a dick than usual this morning, " A black-haired boy questioned. ‘’Leave him, the asshole just wants attention’’ A ginger intervened with a roll of his eyes before dismissing the conversation to a cafe’ the three were planning on visiting later.
Comfortable with the sense of peace his way he studied the ground beneath him. A dead rat sweetly made its corpse apparent at that moment. Looks like im gonna have to get the fuck out of dodge today. He reminded himself with the tight squeeze of his hand. Not long a rusty tin can of a bus rattled its way down the street before perching in front of the four. Surveying the plaguing halls he fell his head sickly. Bursting through the stall door he hurdled for the toilet, puking off his remains as the slight knock of his stall brought forth his attention. “Cartman, you sound like your dying what the fuck is up with you?” Kyle questioned on but not before already kicking open the door. Cartman raised, blood trailing down his form as he attempted to shield his mouth. Kyle stammered back, the trace of concern in his eyes. “Woah dude what the hell..” He went to rest a hand on his shoulder before getting knocked back. “Don’t fucking touch me, save it for your dumb boyfriend and jew-off somewhere else.” Cartman met his eyes defensively, the last thing he needed was another piece of shit invading his space, for now he didn’t mind popping a few pills down his throat. At least this way he’ll get cured without that bullshit. “Well fine dick ass, sorry I wanted to help” Kyle waved him off before jew-ing out the door. Untapping the sink he rose his head; dotting the rest of the caked blood off his face before heading out as well.
Already on the brink of pissed it only soiled when he got the glare of everyone walking past. Fuck this. He raged through, already storming like a bull he failed to realize Butters roughly slammed on the floor in front of him. ‘’Get the hell out of my way Butters you useless faggot!’’ He kicked at the roof of the frailer boys form before getting his shit rocked against the locker. Not realizing quick enough he was suddenly pinned to the wall. Shit that bruise is gonna hurt. “I wonder how durable michelin tire is” Cartman sweared at the voice he heard, Kenny greeting him with a smile Cartman knew was gonna hand his ass to him later. “Get your fatass on the floor cinderella and pick up his shit.”
Grand goddamn day.. His chair squeaks and he’s got a face full of new bruises. His body plunged and sagged beneath the weight of his drowsiness He felt tears begin to swell up, his fingers clawing into the wood of his desk. Oh what was that a pencil, oh look another fucking spit ball. He didn’t have the energy to name the source of where they came from anymore. As if he were a practice dummy he fell into a swarm of shit being flung his way, the scraping against his head only increasing.
Pulling the tufts of his backpack over his shoulder he began to regret how much he had packed. His legs quivered beneath him, refusing the urge to carry on as he trekked down the street. He caught the quick glance of Kyle and Stan. Strangely, it was concern. Nevertheless who in the entire fuck cared anyway. His feet pounded with a racing pain as he opened the door, the house barely lit up. Good Sign. Cartman fell onto his bed weakly, feeling a pounding ache all over his entire body, his breath felt shallow and his stomach wayed in on itself. He glanced beside him, his backpack falling far on the other side of his room, and the shine of a tool beside his bed stand. “Eric, sweetie.. Mom needs you to get up..” Strangely that tired feeling had left his body at those words, the pump of adrenaline pooling into his boiling skin. So he did raise, “Eric?” and lifted up a knife in the process.