It was a cool September morning. The sun was raising itself above the horizon, its first rays of light beginning to appear. Eric Cartman was walking to school with his friend Kyle. They weren't the best of friends in Kyle's eyes, but Eric thought differently. He saw them as the best of friends. They would study together, play video games together, and talk quite a lot. As they were walking, Kyle began to furiously shiver. There were practically icicles hanging from his small freckled nose.
"You want my jacket, Kahl?" Eric asked with his usual drawl.
"Cartman, you'll freeze!" he replied, brushing snowflakes from his hair.
"No shit, Jewrat," Eric laughed as he put his jacket around Kyle.
They walked the rest of the way to school in awkward silence. It was a long trudge through an intense snowstorm, but they arrived just in time. They shook off as much snow as possible and headed to class. Snow was pounding against the windows in Mr. Garrison's room. As class was about to begin, there was a loud noise in the hallway. And another. And another. The noises were followed by screams of terror. Mr. Garrison eased the door open and saw three lifeless bodies on the floor in pools of blood. Students were running away from someone. It looked like they had a gun. Mr. Garrison slammed the door shut and began to block the door with his desk.
"Hide, kids!" he yelled, slamming the desk in front of the door. Everyone overturned their desk and his behind them. The door flew open, causing the desk to fly back and knock down Mr. Garrison. The shooter stood over him and shot. Blood splattered onto the surrounding area. Everyone screamed as the shooter fired multiple shots into the crowd, most of them missing. A stray bullet hit Wendy in the knee, causing her to collapse. Stan rushed to tackle the other student, but was easily shot in the forehead. His brain exploded into fragments and scattered. Wendy began to scream and cry. More shots were fired, two bullets injuring Clyde and another bullet killing Red. Eric snuck out of the room in the panic and began searching for a weapon. Kyle, who was still in the room, started to throw things. He threw pencils, books, and rulers. They didn't do anything, so Kyle threw a pair of scissors. They soared past his cheek, but left a decent-sized gash. He rubbed the wound and looked at his hand. He wiped the blood off on his jeans and walked behind the desks. He chose one student at random and pulled them up to the front of the room. It was Butters. He was crying and begging for help. The shooter threw him to the ground and stomped on his face.
"Shut up!" he yelled angrily.
He kept smashing Butters' face, slowly crushing his skull and jaw. His teeth began to fall out and he started to bleed. The shooter kicked him in the stomach, causing him to throw up blood. With one final stomp, he crushed Butters' head. He took a piece of notebook paper and wiped the brain from his boots. He then fired more shots into the crowd. One hit Kyle in the eye, but missed his brain. He fell and slowly began to lose consciousness. Eric Cartman then came in with the janitor's broom and began to beat the shooter. Kyle then passed out.
When Kyle woke up, he was in a hospital bed. His family and Kenny were there.
"What happened?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. He then noticed that there was padding over his right eye.
"Be careful, bubby! You lost an eye!" his mother cautioned.
Kyle looked around and noticed Cartman's jacket on the table.
"Why isn't Eric here?" Kyle asked.
Everyone just frowned.
"Fuck," he sighed.
"I'm sorry, Kyle. He died earlier today," his father explained.
"He wanted you to have this," Kenny said, handing his friend a small card.
Kyle took the card and read it.
"Dear Kyle,
I'm sorry. It has to end like this. I had to sacrifice myself because everyone knows Jews can't defend themselves worth shit. Let's not forget World War II. I want you to have my jacket. I also wanted to say that I love you. You were like my brother. My Jewish daywalker brother."
Kyle began to cry. He picked up Cartman's coat and held it tightly.
"I love you too, man," he cried.
Kenny felt horrible. He only felt horrible for one reason.
He was the shooter.