A/N- OMGOMGOMG THANK U TO EVERY1 WHO REVIEWS MY OTHER FIC, YOU HELPED ME THROUGH A VERY VERY HARD TIME IN MY LIFE. I take your reviews in to consideration and im going to not use the capitals for all the words. but now i write the fic that is inspired by my hard times. and as u may or may not know i was a cutter at one point because of what i was going through and i also tried to kill myself but im a lot better now. so i know what it feels like to have that emotions and i can put it into fic and make it powerful and strong. maby this fic too will help u with your problems and make you relise that going through the things is not the end, and cuting will only hurt your self and give you the scars on your arms, caused by years of trama and using sharp objects like razor blades and kitchen knives and even wire coat hangers if your desperate enough, it's really bad. and then how kiling urself isnt the right way because you have so much to live for and if u ever feel that way this will change ur mind. please feel enjoyment.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXXOXO

Kyle had been in a swirling, black abyss of pain and suffering ever since the new girl, Angelina, had started attending South Park High. She was gorgeous, flawless, and she had Stan's complete and undivided attention. Angelina was gradually taking Kyle's place, on days where they used to go to Shakey's Stan now went to the mall with Angelina, or Kyle would find them making out against Stan's car and Kyle could do nothing but walk away dejectedly and cling to his textbooks and cry.

The worst part was that he couldn't even hate Angelina. She was perfect in absolutely every way. She smiled at him all the time and asked him about his day, and she made him feel really valuable and important, because it was obvious she wasn't asking to be polite - she really, truly cared with every fiber of her sweet soul. So it was very confusing for Kyle, because he wanted to be angry, he wanted to curse her name every single moment, he wanted to hate her and murder her and get his Stan back, but all he could do was sigh and cry in confusion, because she was so nice and he only wished that things had turned out differently.

But he didn't want to bring up how Stan was always with her to Stan, because he felt he had no right to do so and that he would come off as possessive or clingy. And Kyle and Stan would always remain Super Best Friends and confronting Stan about her would make it seem like he wanted more, which Kyle wasn't ready to admit to himself. So Kyle kept his feelings secret, locked away in a deep dark part of himself that he would never reveal to anyone ever.

Unfortunately this meant that he was having to deal with this whirlwind of emotions all the time by himself, and it was dragging him down. His grades were slipping and he was losing his friends, and when Stan had time to pay attention to him, Stan would give him these very sad looks and tell him that he didn't look well. But it didn't matter, Kyle would never tell him these problems, because he wasn't going to drag Stan down with him. He would cope, alone and miserable, forever and ever.

So there Kyle was, sobbing uncontrollably in the corner of his darkened room and feeling generally pathetic. He knew that the only way to ever get out of this spiraling misery would have to be to bring it up to Stan, but that would also ruin the strong bond that they have nurtured for all of these years, and he wasn't ready to be at risk of destroying that.

So Kyle did the only thing he could do. He crawled miserably over to his desk, sniffing and wiping at the tears of crystal that slipped from his shining emerald eyes, and reached into the drawer. He pulled out a very sharp knife that he had stolen from the kitchen a few months ago, and it was stained with droplets of dried blood that he never cared enough to wipe off its glinting surface. He ever-so-slowly lowered the blade onto the ivory flesh behind his wrist, body trembling and tears splattering. This was it, he had to do this. And then Kyle gave it an extra inch of pressure and it pierced through his scarred skin, blood beginning to gush and mix with cascading drops of tears.

The pain was sweet and beautiful, and Kyle wept harder, not because it hurt, but because it was the most fulfilling thing he had felt all day. All of the pain of everyday life was suddenly forgotten as the knife cut through his delicate flesh, and he was in glorious bliss as he sobbed into the night, tearing open his skin to let the blood flow down his arm. It soaked his clothes, the carpet, but he didn't care, because all that mattered was the fact that he was free, even just for a few seconds.

And then his glistening jade eyes drifted to the carpet, where his blood pooled and soaked into the fibers and spread in a puddle around him. He trembled harder, lowering the knife and trying to plan some way to hide the evidence from his obsessive mother who was guaranteed to barge into his room. His vision blurred over with a layer of tears that he didn't blink away, and as the depression washed over him again he found himself shivering on the floor of his room, face damp with his own blood.

His gaze drifted to his arm, and it was still oozing blood, but it was mostly clotted and he knew he had been out for awhile. He was angry suddenly, wishing he had just died instead of waking up to this hell once again. Fresh tears spilled down his delicate cheeks, and even though he never wanted to move ever again, he knew he had to hide this mess from his mom because she would just make his life even worse if she found out. So he forced himself to his feet and he almost fell over as dizziness swept over him, and he grabbed his bed and dragged it over the stain on the carpet. He would just tell her he was reorganizing and she would never suspect a thing.

And just when he thought it was relief that he was beginning to feel, his ringtone echoed through the confines of his room. He rubbed his stinging eyes and clutched his dizzying head, stumbling to the desk where his phone lay. And he knew it could only be one person, he knew who it had to be and who he wasn't in a state to face right now. The flashing caller ID reinforced his assumption, and in the darkness all Kyle could see was the word "Stan" blaring into his gaze.

Kyle felt dizzy all over again suddenly and he collapsed onto his bed heavily, and he stared at Stan's name. Stan. What a beautiful perfect name, what a name to fit such a strong, gorgeous individual such as Stan. And even though he knew he shouldn't answer, even though he knew it would only end in more pain, he couldn't deny Stan anything.

"Hey," he answered, his voice weak and whispery and wavering.

"Uh," Stan began, clearly noticing Kyle's tone. "Hey dude, are you... are you alright? You sound kind of... broken."

Kyle laughed bitterly. Broken. What a perfect way to describe it. He was broken, heart and soul, but Stan could never know that. "I'm just fine," he lied, though his delicate voice betrayed him once again. "I just got up from a nap, that's all. I guess... I guess I'm still a little tired."

"Kyle..." Stan took in a breath of air, indicating he was beginning a speech of some sort which Kyle did not need right now. "Look, for the past few weeks you haven't been the same person, dude. I started to notice little signs of it and it gradually got worse and worse, and I just... why can't you tell me what's really going on? We're Super Best Friends, right? I'm here for you..."

Kyle couldn't suppress the little sob that came forth when Stan said "Super Best Friends." He paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He could start crying again at any second, and that would ruin everything. "There's nothing going on," he insisted, his voice cracking with a new wave of tears. He held the phone away from his face and sniffed, rapidly wiping away the tears as if Stan could see them somehow. "I'm okay," he whispered. "Everything's fine. Whatever signs you think you're seeing - you're wrong, okay?"

"No, I'm not, Kyle," Stan's voice cracked. "I know you, I know you so well and you're too scared to admit weakness to me, you've always been. I know something's wrong and I just want to know... I just... please..."

"You just want to know?" Kyle repeated bitterly. He propped the phone up on his shoulder, and began absently reopening the cut on his arm with his free hand, sending stinging bursts of pleasurable pain up his arm as he began to bleed again. "Why? So you can go make fun of me with Angelina?" He stopped, his eyes widening in panic. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"Is... is this about her? Is this about her? Kyle..." Stan's voice warned, and he could hear Stan sigh with frustration. "Kyle, stop hiding things from me, I'm getting to the bottom of this because I fucking care about you and I... I just can't stand to see you trouble or upset or just... sad. I care so much, Kyle. And Angelina won't come an inch near anything you tell me, why would I do that? Why would you even think that?"

Kyle was just shaking his head miserably, clawing at his arm desperately as he repeated "It's not about her, it's not about her." He barely heard Stan's other words, too caught up in the warning edge to Stan's tone, that little sound that suggested anger, or even hate, and Kyle couldn't stand it. He was trembling uncontrollably as his nails carved new cuts into his already damaged arm, and he could do nothing more than repeat those words over and over, his voice growing increasingly shaky and broken.

"Kyle?" his voice had the intonation of a child, shaky and dripping with innocence. "That's... that's it, I'm coming over." The soft static from Stan's line was cut off with a beep and his cellphone drifted to his wallpaper, which Kyle had set to black.

Kyle cried out in outrage. There was no way he could hide things from Stan if Stan were actually in his room, looking him in the face and demanding answers. He threw his phone up against the wall where it made a huge dent before falling to the floor, probably broken. Kyle didn't care. He fell over on his bed and pressed his face into the mattress, crying loudly and brokenly. It was all over. Stan would hate him now for sure.