A/N: This is my first multi-chapter South Park story. I have never written in Kyle's POV before, so please bare with me through his POV's until I slowly get used to writing his character.


Kyle's POV

It's funny how fast you think things change (hint, the keyword was think), until reality finally hits you and you realize things haven't even changed the slightest bit. Well, I was right about that. Things hadn't changed at all since the fourth grade. Nothing had ever really changed since the fourth grade, but the things that had changed were the bad kind of change and the bad kind of change just kept on getting worse.

I used to be paranoid about trying to tell between what was real and whatnot, but even though things can seem real to you at first, you finally see that your super best friend was still a self-loathing, mentally unstable and depressive manic. He was becoming more of a dick than Cartman was. Oh. I got ahead of myself there. Anyway, it's just kind of funny how you don't even notice things like that. It's funny how you don't even notice that your super best friend was lying to you about his problems or that he was still hoarding up on alcohol ever since the fourth grade and then life fucks him up and he admits himself into a mental institution.

He wasn't always self-loathing towards himself. In fact, things had gotten better for him, at least that's what I had thought. He had soon taken a wrong turn, though, becoming sleep deprived and the depression hitting him again almost immensely bigger than it had before. He blames it on his diagnosis, but I had just thought his diagnosis was a cover up from some shitty thing that happened in the fourth grade. We were back to this again. I guess things had never really changed since his diagnosis. He told me he was scared to tell me that he was still feeling this way because he didn't want to lose me. I didn't even know what to say to that. I just snapped back at him for it.

"You're acting more like a Goth again everyday, Stan," I spat back, though I could feel a hurt expression fall his face as I gazed at him, trying to figure out what was whirling through his brain. "I'm surprised you haven't gone back to that fad again. You said you liked change, but you can't even get yourself out of the mentally unstable state that you're in now. I don't know how much longer I want to be around you when you're constantly depressed and in that bipolar mood 24/7."

"I'm not depressed, Kyle." He told me back softly, though he gritted his teeth afterwards. "I'm pessimistic. I have cynicism, but I do not act like a Goth, okay? I'm sorry I'm burdening you down with my diagnosis, but it just keeps getting worse and it fucking hurts that my best friend won't even be there for me."

I sighed in defeat. "Stan, I just want things to go back to the way they were, like in the fourth grade. I just want you to be happy again, but all it seems like you are now is a ghost that walks straight through me. You don't give a crap about anyone else because all you still do is say how shitty everything is. I thought things were getting better for you, but you lied to me about how you were doing. That fucking hurts."

"Fourth grade was shit!" He cried back, standing up as he threw the game controller onto the ground. "I don't want things to go back to the way they were. I wanna be happy, but I can't be because the whole world is fucked up anyway so what's the point?"

I looked down. "You're my best friend."

"And if you were mine, you'd at least show me some damn sympathy, Kyle!" He yelled, and I could hear his voice breaking. "Look, I don't wanna be a burden towards you anymore. I don't wanna bring my best friend down. I thought we could just hang out, but all we ever do now is fight."

"That's because you just still say everything is shit!" I yelled back, feeling my own voice starting to break too.

He walked away from me, heading over to the door. "I'm being rational, and so right now I'll be rational and just leave."

I followed him. "Stan-"

"No, Kyle. It's okay. I need to figure some shit out before I bring you down anymore than I already have. I'll see you at school tomorrow, okay?"

"St-" I choked out, finally nodding in agreement. "Okay."

"Later, Kyle."

And he just left after that.

I don't even know the whole concept of what had happened, because one day he just left after we were playing video games and me and Kenny found out that he had admitted himself into a mental institution. He left his phone behind, almost like he had wanted us to come looking for him, and so we tracked his location from his phone and that's where it said he was: a mental institution.

I was pissed that he had sent himself there. I mean, who would send themselves into a fucking mental institution? I had been to one before. I had been to one when I had believed in talking poo, but for him to purposefully admit himself into one? Jesus Christ, he's my super best friend and a little bit insane, but he's not that insane! He didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve to have these kind of problems. He didn't deserve to have a shitty friend like me. We were both starting to become shitty friends towards each other, but I was mostly just afraid of losing him.