Tweek breathed in deeply, sighing. Wind blew at him, swirling his clothes and hair. The river underneath the bridge frothed and bubbled as it rushed by, splashing out as it clashed into the pillars that supported the bridge. A hand clutched at one of the support wires and Tweek twirled so he was facing the wind, dangling off the bridge, as one of his feet hung from the bridge along with his right hand while the other two limbs tried to keep him anchored in the fierce weather.
He tilted his head back as snow and wind bit at his neck. He thought of how easy it would be to let go, to sink beneath the rushing water and allow himself to be dragged along the bottom. Tweek doubted he would be missed. His parents and friends would think he had run away. He knew Craig had caught him staring longingly at the tourists' cars as they left South Park and his mom had often picked up the travel brochures Tweek left in his room.
The blonde lolled his head back as his thin body wavered in the wind. He wondered if his body would be found. If people would assume he was murdered or figure out he committed suicide. Tweek wasn't sure why he wanted to die. Most of the time, on Oprah and Dr. Phil all the suicidal people had a reason; they had been bullied, raped, assaulted, kidnapped or abused. He wasn't. Tweek simply didn't see the point in living.
He lived in constant fear, not the paranoid fear of his childhood, but a heart-stopping, dead for a moment as he waited for something bad to happen fear that ate away at him. The government was always talking about overpopulation so it would be good if he died, right? One less carbon footprint.
Tweek let his other foot slide off.
Craig and Token wouldn't have to worry about him, Thomas would be allowed back into the group, and Clyde could spend more time with Token.
Tweek's fingers loosened.
His parents could afford that trip to Hawaii without having to support him. The teachers might actually be able to teach their lessons. His addled mind tried to think of more reasons but the weather had started to take a toll on the scantily clad boy. Tweek's vision faded in and out, his lungs burned as they filled with cold air, and his fingers grew numb.
"It's now or never." He whispered. A touch of fear ran through him. Tweek wasn't used too making decisions. His; friends, teachers and parents usually did it for him. But no one could make this decision for him.
He slid one of his dangling feet back onto the bridge.
It was all on him. If he jumped game over, no one would stop him, but then again no one would encourage him.
His pinkie and ring finger let go, three fingers and one foot supported him.
Tweek wondered what hell would be like. Kenny had described it. Only Mormons and tiny children got into heaven but Satan was supposed to be a nice guy. Tweek wasn't a tiny child, he was 16 years old. He was old enough to make his own decisions, so, what would he pick?
Life or death?
Earth or hell?
Would he take a chance or keep living his pitiful existence?
As lightning began to flash, Tweek made his decision.
He let go.
The blonde stayed like that for a moment, balancing precariously on the bridge before a strong gust of wind blew him over. The he heard someone scream his name. Tweek looked up. It was Craig. His breathing hitched before he hit the water and a shock of pain went through him. He didn't fight the current and kept his eyes wide open as he breathed out, allowing precious air to be replaced by cold water. His body was already numbing, and a feeling of calm he had never known overtook him. Giving a soft, relieved smile, Tweek succumbed to the darkness.
Above, on the bridge, Craig stood gasping and crying. He watched in horror as the frail body of his best friend disappeared underneath the dark waters. Craig had always been half-aware of Tweek's desire to leave, but he always figured the blonde meant a road trip or moving to a different house not this. Not suicide. He was all alone now, no more Tweek to make him coffee, no more Tweek to help him with his math homework. His heart beat faster and seemed to rip open. No more Tweek. No more Tweek. No more Tweek. It was a scary thought, never to see his face again and then Craig straightened his shoulders. He knew what he had to do. Without a second thought, Craig plunged in after Tweek.