Hello again! After much picking of the brain, I finally manage to come up with some fresh material. I hope you enjoy it, if enough people do, this can become an ongoing story so R&R please!

-Yours Affectionately,

A.C. Lucius

Standing rigid and stoney face... Shaking from head to foot... A single tear rolls down my cheek. I choke back the urge to sob uncontrollably with an effort that makes my head hurt. My stomach feels queezy. Another tear rolls down my cheek. I blink and yet more droplets of salt water tumble down my face swift and irretrievable. I take about a step and a half every few moments as the people in line in front of me take their turns paying their respects.

I hate funerals; this one especially sucks.

When it's finally my turn in line, I tentatively take the last couple steps to the plain pine box. The impoverished boy inside the coffin looks serene. I haven't been to enough funerals to know for certain, but I suspect that's how the dead pretty much look in general. His fair skin even paler now in death, was something akin to marble or porcelain. His tousled blonde hair framed his face in waves and curls, it shone in the sunlight. His angelic appearance therein belied his impish nature in life.

I was going to miss his beautiful wry grin, I missed it now. A smile that was always so knowing, furtive, mysterious. He was always so fey, a youth so mischievous yet so innocent. His eyes always telling a different story each and everyday. Eyes so curious, attentive in learning, and also portraying the desperate fight for survival.

I reached out and took his cold hand in mine. His fingers were hard and stiff, and I found myself longing for their warmth. A sob finally escaped my throat and I choked it down in exchange for the wry feeling of nausea that was also fighting its way upward. I gave his hand a final squeeze and quickly turned away.

Nausea and the urge to cry. The two have been fighting an ongoing battle for dominance within my throat for the past hour. As I ran from what was soon to be the final resting place of my beloved friend, they caused a turmoil that threw me into vertigo. My vision spinning, tilting, blurring! The last thing I remember was the lush green ground rushing towards me and darkness greeting me thereafter.

I quickly sat up in bed at the sound of my alarm. My consciousness sank in and I looked about my quiet mundane room. A bad dream... what a relief... I wiped my sweaty brow and tremulously climbed out of bed. A quick glance at the clock told me it was seven in the morning on a Saturday. I didn't need to be up at this time, especially since I didn't have to go to school, but sleep was the last thing on my mind right now. I showered and changed quickly and made my way downstairs.

The parentals were thankfully still in bed. I honestly didn't feel up to dealing with them right now. I quickly began to get my chores squared away so they wouldn't bother me about them later. After clearing out the dish washer, wiping down the kitchen counters, and re-alphabetizing the pantry for the umpteenth time, I poured myself a bowl of cereal and settled in front of the television to watch cartoons.

It was ten o' clock when my folks finally came downstairs. My mom greeted me with a cheerful good morning and a kiss on the forehead before making her way to the kitchen. Shortly after, my dad ruffled my hair in greeting as he sat on the couch next to me and opened the newspaper.

"Hey there, sport." he said.

"Hey, dad."

"You're up early today." He said conversationally.

"I know..." The gurgling sound of coffee brewing could be heard in the other room followed by the sizzle of a frying pan and the clatter of kitchen utensils.

"Butters," said mom poking her head in the living room doorway, "how would you like your eggs this morning?"

"Scrambled."

"What about you, Steven?" she asked my father.

"I think I'll have mine scrambled as well." he replied.

After giving a cheerful "coming right up!", she disappeared back into the kitchen and more sizzling and clattering resounded from within.

I went to the park after breakfast and strolled around Stark's Pond. It was an average day with little to do, but my mind was too occupied to relax and enjoy the beautiful day. I couldn't stop thinking about that vivid nightmare.

Halfway around the pond, I noticed an orange clad figure in the distance. The sound of splashing water echoed in the air the as boy skipped rocks across the body of water. As I kept walking toward him, the sun glared blindingly above him making his hair sparkle and his image appear haloed. I realized too late who it was when his bright blue eyes connected with mine. My heart gave a large jolt and my whole body started. I rooted myself to the ground and just stared at him in bewilderment. Moments passed as he stared back expectantly, my throat working as I struggled to form words.

"K-Kenny?"

"Yeah?" He replied quirking an eyebrow, "What's up?"

I couldn't speak, my face paled and my body quaked. Tears were threatening to unleash themselves from the prison of my tear ducts. That familiar wry feeling in my stomach making itself known.

"What's wrong, Butters?" Asked Kenny, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Once more, the convolution of my senses overtook me and the ground rushed up to meet me once more. Darkness gathers me in its familiar embrace.