A Dip(Damien x Pip) story

I dont want to be a tragedy

I can't tell you exactly when I started hating myself, I don't remember a time when I didn't. I guess it's really more that I can't recall when everyone else started hating me....
Every day was the same ritual, wake up. Walk to school. Get picked on by cartman and his band of dumbasses. Class. Lunch. Become numb and clock out until the next morning and start again.
I don't know when Cartman and the dick bags began picking on me.. I suppose it started in 4th grade when I came to South Park from England after my parents died, but they didn't really have a reason until one drunken night with Kenny in 10th grade. Ever since then I'd obtained the nickname faggot, and constant harassment from Kenny McCormick wanting to do what we did again. Now all that being said, I'd already gotten out of bed and walked to school meaning it was time for my daily bullying. Cartman walked, or rather waddled, his fat ass towards my locker, I could smell his awful cologne and B.O. radiating from his sweaty body, "Hey faggot, gotten yourself fucked lately?" I looked down at the ground "No Cartman. I haven't, have you fucked any McChickens lately." I said sneering the second part of my statement, instantly regretting it, "The fuck you say to me fag?!" Cartman slapped my head into the lockers that I'd been standing next to, a pulse of pain flooded my skull as he slammed my head against the lockers once more before his hooligans began pulling him away. I felt warm breath on the back of my neck before I heard someone whispering into my ear "You know Pip.. things might be a lot easier if you'd be my fuck toy, he might leave you alone." The tall blonde of the group cooed at me while wrapping his arm around my shoulders, "Like I told you before Kenny. No." I shuddered him off of me and began walking to my first period class when he yelled in my direction "Alright fag that's not what you were saying when I was balls deep in your ass!" I lowered my head and walked faster hoping to god no one was looking at me. As the day went on, my headache from the instance earlier that morning had subsided and was replaced by a bruise on the side of my face, and creating a new headache of people asking what happened, as if they'd actually cared. I survived the rest of the day going into autopilot and enduring the massive pain that was sweltering of the side of my face, until I got home.
I laid on my bed, repeatedly poking the giant bruise that had formed on my face from Cartman hitting my head against my locker. I'd eventually fallen asleep, despite having not eaten dinner nor done my homework, I looked around and saw nothing but darkness, I couldn't see my hands in front of my face, only the never ending dark that was consuming me, so naturally, I began walking, I walked and I walked for what seemed like hours, until the dream began to morph into a landscape, it seemed oddly familiar, but I couldn't quite remember what it was. Until I stopped in my tracks. Him. Damien Thorne. Except, it wasn't, he was older, and less bratty looking, but Damien nonetheless. I walked towards him and I could feel heat rising in my face for the boy that had nearly killed me all those years ago. When I was just inches in front of him, he opened his mouth, "beep... beep... beEP... BEEP..." I woke up covered in sweat and turned of my alarm clock. Why was Damien in my dream, I hadn't seen him in years, nor had I even thought about him.