This fic will be based on Kenny's miserable life, as well Tweek being the side character. A lot of the things written are from personal experiences of mainly myself and a few people I know, while other parts in the story are just pure fiction.
This is the first part to kinda how it all started I guess. This chapter is Kenny from a child to 14, then the next chapter will be from 14 to whatever age I decide to make him for the rest of the story.
There are some triggering things mentioned so don't read it if this applies to you~
I never really noticed when it started. I was just a child after all. Feelings of anger would swell through my body and I'd just punch a wall until my knuckles were bloody. Sometimes I did things I consider bad, an example being around the age of six years old I kicked a dog until it cried or I would bite my older brother's arm until it bled. I felt guilt for these things. At least I think I did. I enjoyed violence. I honestly craved it. Became obsessed with horror movies and serial killers at very young. Made me a bit odd in the eyes of some.
My mother and father were always fighting since I was very young. I remember laying in bed countless nights trying to sleep over their screaming. Cussing all these swear words I had never even heard of before but learnt to love to use them. It used to bother me but after a while I just learnt to accept it. My only worry though was Karen. My little sister. She was the only person in my family I loved. Everyone else, including my brother were horrible. Though at times my mom was nice to us, usually only when she had had pot though, if she was sober, or on meth, or drunk, she was horrible to be around. I'd often take Karen and we would hide in my closet when the fights would scare her. I'd hold her and sing to her. She was honestly everything to me and I'd do anything to protect her.
I discovered I could not die around the age of 8. It was my birthday I think. I stole a can of my fathers blue ribbon and sat in my room and cried. I was so sad for some reason. I guess my shitty family could be to blame but I don't think that was the reason.
I had good things going on in my life though. Karen made a friend named Ruby and she's always over at her place now. She gets fed properly and the Tuckers' adore her. I wasn't too keen on her brother though. Craig. We just didn't get along I guess. I also have my own good group of friends. Stan, Kyle and Eric. Well, we call Eric, Cartman as we started doing it when we all met around the age of five to piss him off. He doesn't get bothered by it anymore though.
I was sitting against the back of my door, in case anyone would try to get in. I held my knees to my chest as I sobbed. Why was this happening? I tried to think about it for a while and came to the conclusion, I hate myself. I hate everything about me. I wanted to be someone else and it was destroying me. I chugged the beer down and continued to cry against the door. I had quite a little petite body when I was a little boy, so the one beer made me able to feel a little tipsy. For the first time in my life I felt suicidal. I didn't know what is was exactly at first. It was extremely intense. I looked around my room, everything was hazy. A glint of light reflecting on a piece of metal across the room caught my attention. My body started to slowly shift its way over to it. It was a pair of scissors. I stood and sat upon my bed and pulled down my pants. I traced the scissors along my thigh for a while before putting a lot more pressure causing the scissors to slice my flesh open. I didn't know what I was doing. I was in awe as I stared. My own tears falling down onto an open wounds. I continued to cut into my own skin for a good while before a thought flooded into my head. Maybe I should just die? Ruby is happy. My friends don't care too much. I dislike my life. Let's do it.
I remember learning in school about the artery in our wrist. That when punctured, you could die. I lifted up my sleeve to my puffy orange jacket and raised the scissors. I had used enough forced for the scissors to plunge entirely through my arm. The scream I let out made me feel as if my ears were bleeding. I ripped the scissors out of my arm as blood spurted out covering me and my bed. I stabbed my arm one more time, this time making sure to twist the scissors before yanking it out violently again. The pain was unbearable. As I watched the blood leak from my arm, I was starting to find it difficult to keep my eyes open. I smiled knowing no matter what happens when you die. Heaven, Hell or just nothing. I'd be at please and away from this sick world. Everything went dark.
I didn't see a light. I didn't see anything.
I opened my eyes. My body shot up incredibly fast. Where was I? My bed? I was slightly confused. After I moment of gaining my composure I quickly went to look at the arm I stabbed. Nothing was there. No stab wound. No blood. The cuts on my legs were gone too? Did I Hallucinate it all? What the fuck is happening.
After calming down. I got up and went through the rest of the day as normal, not telling anyone what had happened. Deciding it was a secret I should keep to myself.
When I was around nine years old I found my brothers playboy magazines. Holy fucking shit balls. I was in love. I wanted to touch all these women. Sex became a big thing to me. I was dreaming every night of when I'll lose my virginity one day. I'd did drawings too. I enjoyed to draw a lot. Naked women being my favourite thing to draw of course.
I also had a knack for drawing cut up people too. I hadn't tried to cut myself since I was eight until I was about ten. Ten was the the year I got fed up about my friends not being able to tell I always fucking died. It happened a couple times when younger but I ended up forgetting about them until my attempt but since my attempt, I die all the fucking time. I'm prone to death. It fucking hurts so bad. Cartman may of noticed it though. I think. He mentioned something once that made me think he was suggesting he knew, but I could be wrong. Anyway, since I was ten I started harming myself a lot. Burning, cutting, anything. The pain made me feel human instead of some weird immortal being. I killed myself a lot too. Too get out of situations. Or just to go home. Sometimes with a gun to the head, other a downward slice on the wrist.
I had on and off stolen beers from my dad for a long time. Most being four at once. He caught me that time and punched me in the stomach. I remember falling down then him kicking my stomach and yelling some nonsense at me. God I'm glad my wounds always heal quick, all my wounds disappear after I've had a good sleep. He never hurt Karen. The one time he tried to I stabbed him, and he went to hospital. I was in so much trouble but I didn't mind. Karen was safe.
When I found out you could get high on cat pee I was so excited! So far I had only alcohol and I wanted a new escape from reality. Though when it got bad, my friends got me to stop which is nice of them I guess. But I really want to get as high as possible.
At age eleven I started stealing computer duster and cans of butane from Walmart, I'd then go behind the Walmart, hiding between two dumpsters and inhale them. Getting as high as I could while probably killing my much needed brain cells. This is when I met Tweek. Well I already knew the boy since kindergarten but never really talked but like once or twice when people hanged out in large groups.
He was behind the Walmart smoking while his friends Craig, Clyde, Jimmy and Token were in the shop. He told me he was hiding as no one knew he smoked. He actually freaked out when he saw me. Made me laugh as he begged me not to tell anyone. I told him to calm down and come sit down next to me. He sat down and offered me a smoke, I had only once smoked before but I really wanted to do it again so I took it from him and thanked him. He cupped his hand as he came really close to me to light out cigarettes at the same time as his went out. Our eyes locked as he did this and we both chuckled. We talked for a while, I asked him about his friends, he asked about mine, blah blah blah all the usual small talk. Then he questioned what I was doing back here. When he walked past me I was currently pressing the nuzzle bit down of the butane can and inhaling it, the world was spinning and it felt so damn good.
I told him what it was and he was interested to try it. I felt a bit bad as I know how dangerous it is so I wanted to know the reason he's want to do something so harmful though. Tweek took a deep breath of his cigarette, holding it in long and deep and then blew it at my face. "Because I want to slowly kill myself." What..? The fuck. This kid? I know he was anxious all the time and very jumpy but I didn't realise he was this bad. I asked why and he started to breathe a little hard and cried out a string of words. "I see things and hear things and I don't like to think about it! Please no more questions it's too much pressure!" I felt bad and told him I was sorry as I gave him the butane. I showed him he how to use it and he huffed it then we shuffled forward so we could lay back in the snow. We kept taking turns with the computer duster and butane just laughing as we smoked. I caught him looking at me and I gave him a huge grin. He returned the smile before blowing out a ring of smoke from his mouth. Me being me of course put my finger through it and made it seem like I was fingering it. We both laughed and just stayed there until it got dark before going our separate ways. I gave him half a bottle of computer duster to have for home. And he gave me a hug. Which was unexpected, but I returned the gesture with a comforting pat on his back. I told him that we should defiantly hang out again sometime soon, to which he replied with the most happiest smile I've ever seen. I made my way home that day thinking Tweek and I were gonna become very good friends.
My main group of friends Stan, Kyle, Cartman and Butters all knew I drink. They never commented. Stan though around near the end of grade five he started coming over to my place nearly every Friday night to drink. It was our night. The night he can sob to me about he's relationship with Wendy. How he's scared shitless he'll one day lose Kyle as a friend. How shit the world is and he doesn't know how to go on. I'm always there to comfort him. Always there to support him. I never really tell him any of my problems though. I say I drink for the hell of it. Though that's not the case. Tweek has become the only person I've come comfortable about with to tell things too as we can relate. We're both in our own ways psychotic.
Stan and I continued drinking together weekly for a couple years. I think we were about about thirteen then. When he started seeing the better in life and I got a lot worse so we had quite a distance between us at that point in time. Actually at that point in time my only friends were Tweek and Craig. But more about that later, now for me turning twelve.
When I turned twelve I celebrated by going to stark pond with my main group of friends and Tweek. Tweek invited Craig just as a back up person for if he freaks out. I know how to deal with him now, and so does Craig. Everyone else in school stays the fuck away from him when he freaks out and makes fun of him. One time when Tweek came over to my place he actually told me he loves Craig. And has ever since their fake relationship I'm grade four. It went on up to fifth grade but then Craig said no one seems to care anymore so they stopped. Tweek had gained actual feelings though, so this crushed him but he hid it very well. It was about the time be began to smoke too.
Stan, Craig, Tweek and I were drinking beers. Cartman, Butters and Kyle just had sodas. We were all sitting at a picnic table next to the water. I actually felt really happy with all my friends around me. Felt at peace with life for once and hoped it'd go on like this forever. Most of them gave me money for my birthday as well it's obvious I need money as I'm poor. Butters gave me a nice cute little drawing of us as Mysterion and Professor Chaos. It's hung up in my room until this day. Tweek gave me a carton of cigarettes with a little bow on it. To this day I have no idea how he gets smokes as he claims no one but me and Craig know he smokes. Everyone knows I do so no one questioned him when he gave me the present.
They all sang me happy birthday as I cut the cake Liane, Cartman's mom, made for me. It was a caramel mud cake which is my favourite. We all stayed at the pond until about eight at night. Everyone went their own way but Craig had left a little earlier than the rest of us for some family reason so I walked Tweek home. He was scared of the dark. And what lurks there. He always has earphones on now with music low so he can still hear people talk but it blocks about most of the sounds he hears that aren't there. Though, sometimes this doesn't work.
Once we reached his house I gave him a hug and made my way home. It was about nine at night now. I popped a cigarette into my mouth and cupped my hand to light it. And loved the cold air on my face as I walked. It was relaxing. A little too relaxing that I ended up closing my eyes with a smile on my face, while I was crossing the road. Next thing I knew I was on the ground bleeding. A car had hit me. I cussed under my breath as I waited for death to finally take over and I could wake up in my bed.
As usual I woke up in my bed. I was becoming very sick of this.
Self harming became a daily habit for me. People were beginning to notice. I'd cut when ever I could. I was always covered in fresh wounds as they'd be healed by the next day. One night just to get back at my mother for being horrible to Karen and I that day, I walked into her room in just my boxers. Dad wasn't there, most likely was at the bar. When she saw me she cried. My legs, arms and chest were all cut up. Blood everywhere. I wanted to laugh at her reaction as the bitch fucking deserved to feel horrible that her son is badly hurting himself. But instead I forced myself to cry. I was getting quite good at fake crying. Did it when I needed things to be done my way sometimes. She hugged me as she pulled me down onto the bed with me as she cried.
The next day she took me to a doctor. They recommend I see a psychiatrist but I declined, I don't like talking about my feelings to strangers. I asked for some type of medication though, but the doctor said no due to my age. I was too young in his eyes, but honestly I think my brain needed some chemical, non illegal help now. Not gonna happen though. Not enough money.
My life was destroyed when I turned thirteen. It was a normal day in the McCormick household. Kevin and dad were drunk and fighting. Mom was just watching TV as she smoked a joint. Karen and I were in the kitchen eating pop tarts. We could the yelling of our brother and father but did our best to ignore it. It was when we heard our mom start screaming and the sounds of things smashing we both walked out into the living room to see what was happening.
Both of us were in shock as we witnessed what happened next. Dad had smashed Kevin's fave threw the TV. My mother was crying as she watched a pool of blood beginning to form under him. He wasn't moving. Karen began to cry, extremely loudly. She couldn't help it, I tried to give her a hug before our dad came over and punched her out as he told her to shut the fuck up. This wasn't normal, the smell of alcohol was strong as fuck but he must of been on something else too, he was psychotic.
As soon as he had hurt her I flung myself at him. Hitting, kicking, once even biting out a chunk of his flesh. I had hurt him but I was honestly no match to him without any kinda weapon. He ripped me off him and threw me to the ground. He began to kick my face until I was spitting out blood and I think maybe even a tooth or two. I was on the ground unable to move now due to the immense pain, I was in view of him walking over to Karen. No. No. I tried to get up but ended up falling flat on my face. It was hard to keep my eyes open. I squinted as I watched him step on my currently unconscious sister on the floor. He kept smashing his food on his head until I could no longer recognise her face. I cried and screamed as I watched and then everything went black.
When my eyes opened I was still on the floor in the living room. There was still blood around me but my wounds were healed. After remembering what happened when I was last awake, I bolted over to Karen. She wasn't breathing. I cradled her in my arms. I put my mouth to her swollen, bloodied mouth, trying to give her air as I used one of my hands to put pressure on her heart. She couldn't be dead. She just couldn't. After nothing of what I was doing seemed to be helping I quickly ran over to the phone to call 911.
When the ambulance arrived, the police were with them also. They took Kevin to the hospital. He was still alive but barely. He was in a coma for a couple weeks to my knowledge. When they went over to Karen, they straight away told me it was too late. She was gone. I kept sobbing. I couldn't stop. My face was covered in snot and tears. I just of looked disgusting.
The police found my mother in her room crying to herself. She told them everything that had happened and that Stewart had left after the incident and has not come back. They actually waited a whole hour before I calmed down slightly before talking to me. It was traumatising watching as Karen's lifeless body was taken out of the house in a body bag. The police had me confirm everything my mother had told them.
After they left I went straight to my room and reached under my bed where I had stashed a bottle of gin I had stolen from the bottle shop. I drowned at least half the bottle within two minutes. It burnt but I needed it. I grabbed a can of butane from next to my bed and became to inhale. I continued to drink and huff for hours before it eventually made me pass out.
I don't remember the last time I was sober back then. I just kept drinking and drinking. I'd bring my flask to school in my jacket everyday. My grades were starting to fall dramatically, I was usually a B sometimes rarely A student, but now I wasn't getting anything better than a C- and I failed a lot of tests as well at the time. I never really payed attention anymore, not even to my friends. I didn't notice anything anymore. It was all just a blur. I was stuck in a dark place I could not seem to escape from.
It had only been about a week since the incident. Tweek noticed I've been off my face more so he has been very caring, giving me lots of his cigarettes. He knows what happened. I only told him. It's been kept quiet in the town for our families privacy while they continue to look for Stewart. Tweek knows I'm not a fan of talking about the things that hurt me anymore so he'd always just be there, comforting me the best he could. All my other friends were distant as they had no idea what was wrong exactly but it was obvious something had happened. I texted Stan once just telling him I can't drink with him weekly for a while. Just said I had some personal stuff to deal with. And when he questioned me asking what was wrong and that he'd be there for me as I have always been there for him, I just ignored him.
It was late at night and as usual I was in my room drinking. Drinking while already terribly depressed is horrible. It just makes you worse. But you need otherwise you're going to be just suffering. I was thinking deeply about Karen. I was crying as I did. My little angel was dead and I could do anything to save her. But then something clicked in my mind. My fucking stupid mother could of stopped my dad. SHE could of saved her.
In my eyes, she deserves to die.
I jumped out of my bed and hurried to the kitchen. I didn't care I was being extremely loud as I searched through the kitchen. After looking in the fourth different kitchen draw I finally found what I was looking for. I grabbed the large knife and headed to my mothers room. Her door was slightly open so I peeked in, she seemed to be asleep. I crept up to beside her bed and stared down at her resting body. I held the knife about an inch above her breathing chest. My hands began to tremble.
I've always wanted to kill people. Never really cared for who. It's just been an urge that's always been there. The urge was always stronger for it if someone had struck a nerve on me, like one time in class Clyde was just honestly annoying the fuck out of me. He wouldn't stop talking about senseless crap to Token. I remember going to sharpen my pencil by the rubbish bin to calm my nerves, when I got back to my seat he was still fucking blabbering shit. It honestly took all of my self control to stop myself from piercing the pencil into Clyde's jugular vein. I ended up snapping my pencil in half from trying to control myself as I stared at his vulnerable throat. Anyone I genuinely I disliked too were very high on my mental list of people to hurt or kill. I guess that's why my urge to kill my mum at that moment was so strong, as right then in my eyes she was worse then the fucking devil.
As my hand trembled, I was about to press it down until luckily my senses came back to me. I haven't killed or hurt any human yet in my life because of the consequences that would follow. I always thought if I ever did it, it'd be when I knew I could get away with it, without being caught. And if I killed my mom right now, I'd defiantly go to juvenile. And well I didn't want to go there. I sighed and walked out of my mothers room as quietly as I could.
Once back in my room, I needed to think of a plan. I wanted my mother dead, I wanted to be dead, but that was sadly fucking impossible. Everything in my life just made me hurt. I couldn't do it anymore. So I decided I was going to plan to run away.
For days I tried thinking of different things to do, maybe I'd hitchhike to Denver, sell myself for money. I wouldn't even care about doing that which I guess is worrisome for a thirteen year old to not care for. I ended up deciding to contact Tweek and asked him to come over. I ended crying into his chest telling him everything. I told him I wanted to run away and he said he could help me hide. He could help me hide from both the police, so they don't just get me and drag me back home, and anyone one who'd possibly search for me, which I doubted anyone would. Apparently Craig's family had this little cabin that was far out in the woods Stark pond way. It was basically deserted as only their grandparents went there and they were dead now. Craig took Tweek there a few times when they were younger just to be away from everyone. Craig actually only brought Tweek there. No one else. He said it was because he was his best friend. This fact alone always gives Tweek butterflies in his stomach whenever he thought about it.
I packed a back pack of couple things I'd need the night before I planned to leave. A jacket, jeans, underwear, a drawing book, computer duster, a bottle of whiskey and a razor. I went to sleep that night as normal but set my alarm to quite early. As soon as the alarm went off I had a shower and got dressed, I threw my bag over my back and made my way to the front door trying to be as silent ad I could, but when making a sandwich in the kitchen I accidentally dropped a plate and she woke up. She told me I was acting odd that morning before walking out of the house, guess I wasn't too good at trying to stay calm and hide that I was excited. She wished me a good day at school as I left. When the front door closed behind me and bolted towards the location I would be meeting Tweek. Once a fair distance away from my house, I put a black wig I had taken from some kid at schools Harry Potter costume. I also changed into a red checkered jacket and put my orange Parker in my bag.
Once we met at the location we made our way to the cabin. It was quite a walk but I didn't mind. Tweek had already gotten me a small blow up bed and a pillow and blanket and put it there days before as we were planning.
Craig knew of my where abouts but wasn't going to tell anyone. He was Tweek's alibi for where he was when I sent missing. Tweek trusted Craig, and I trusted Tweek's judgement, so I wasn't worried he'd tell.
Once we got into the cabin we settled in. He was going to stay with me the first night as he was just really worried about me. I got the whiskey out of my bag and we both drank a bit, he had brought chips for us to eat so we were sitting on the bed and snacking and talking. After a while we both had become very drunk and started talking about things we wouldn't usually.
I told him that every night since Karen's death, I have nightmares. She died a different way in all of them but I'm always the reason she died. He told me that his love for Craig was becoming unbearable. And that the voices in his head keep telling him to do things to him. The things he told me were terrible. But oddly to me, were beautiful. I told him I had wanted to do the same things he wants to do to Craig, to anyone, I told him it was my fantasy.
We stared in awe at each other for a while after realising we were so alike. I continued to drink as Tweek had Brough half a bottle of vodka, and I was deeply thinking that maybe.. Tweek can be my person to help get rid of urges. And to just get fucking wasted and drugged up constantly. As I was staring at him with a dopey smile on my mouth he asked me a question. He asked if he could do something and if I didn't like he'd stop.
Confused at first I nodded my head, and then he lunged at me, his lips meeting mine. His body was on top of mine as he was grinding against me. He slipped his tongue in my mouth. If I remember correctly we hurriedly ripped each other's clothes off as we kissed. I don't remember much after that. I drank way too much alcohol and ended up blacking out. Tweek apparently never blacks out on alcohol and he told me we ended up going all the way and I also begged him to hurt me. To punch me. Choke me. And then I asked him to cut my arm open. He told I was unable to hold in a moan from when he did it.
I was hidden in that cabin for a good four months before I was caught. In that time Tweek and I had been extra friendly a lot. He'd always cry out Craig's name though, which I didn't mind, it's what got him off. He also told me a secret that his parents were actually meth dealers. He only recently found out, it now explains how they had such a large amount of people coming too and from and coffee shop and house. I convinced him to steal some for us. He was scared at first but he did. We got high on it a few times as well as he had found an older male who'll sell him pot so we were smoking that too.
Stan led a search party while I was missing. He was really worried I'd killed myself. The group also looked a lot in the red light district as they thought I could be the type of person to sell myself.
I was fourteen by the time I was caught. I ended up being caught by someone who saw me outside the cabin. They had called the police when they saw me. The cops showed up banging on the door. I tried to hide or find somewhere to escape to but they ended up busting the door down. I was beginning to feel tears well in my eye when I saw them. I finally felt I was getting better. Was able to think clearly. Yes I did drugs but not everyday anymore and I also was three months clean from self harm. They grabbed me as I refused to come with them and dragged me into the backseat of the car.
I was held at the police station until my mother had come to pick me up. When she saw me she hugged me and told me how glad she was to see me but it just seemed..fake?
That night I called Tweek and told him I'd been found. I was currently wanting to die so damn bad and if I could I fucking would of ended my life. I didn't want to be back. I liked the situation I was in. Tweek told me to come over to his for the night to feel better. At first my mom was against me leaving as she thought I was just going to run away again but I promised her I wouldn't and that I just needed a friend.
When I arrived at Tweek's he made us coffee and put a movie on in the lounge room. His parents were currently out of town so we were free to do anything we wanted. He raced up stairs to get his bong and weed and also his medication. We both took turns smoking until we were so damn high we were talking about the weirdest shit. He then reached out to the bottle of pills on the coffee table and swallowed three of them. I asked him what they were and he replied saying it was xanax. He was only meant to have one or two at tops a day, but he said he was to in love with them. He offered me one of the bar looking pills and I took it. As I'd never had something like this before it was quite a strong dose for your first time.
I don't remember much else from that night. I think Tweek and I made out then I fell asleep with his arms tightly around my waist. I ended up waking up in the middle of the night. And before trying to get to sleeping snuggled more closer to his sleeping body and close my eyes with a smile on my face. It's just felt so nice to be comforted. I really really fucking liked it.
The next morning when I woke up he was already awake chugging down a black coffee. He was doing his usual shaking thing but it seemed worse right now for some reason. I asked him what was wrong and I ended up startling as he thought I was still asleep. He stuttered as he told me he wasn't sure if this was bad news or just average news he needed to tell me. I told him to spit it out already and he said sorry.
He then told me my father has finally been caught.
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