A/N: Ok, so this is just a cheesy little one shot about Kyle and Kenny, or K2 or whatever you call it. Btw, the boys are all like 17-18, like they are in all my South Park fics, unless otherwise stated. Haha I know the summary sucks ass, but come on, I don't wanna spoil it for you. I based the story off of my life right now, because I had a boyfriend and he was killed and…well…more on that at the end. L Okay here's the story.
Til Death Do Us Part…And Maybe Even Then.
Disclaimer: Ummm…if I did own South Park, don't you think you would know who I am? Just a thought. South Park belongs to Matt Stone and Trey Parker, the Einstein's of the 21st century! 3 And I don't own Clover Farms either, and I'll be damned if I know who does :P
KYLE'S POV
Hi, I'm Kyle Broflovski. It's August 10th. The time, 3:47 PM. I spent the afternoon with Kenny McCormick, my boyfriend of almost 3 months and the soul love of my life. He was just my summer love, but I could tell it would last forever. I didn't know what I would be without him, little did I know I was about to find out.
We were crossing Main Street on our way to the mall. And out of the blue comes a Clover Farms Milk truck straight down Main Street. It never honked to warn us it was coming, maybe it didn't see us? I was lucky enough to get outta the way, but Kenny just stood there. Stunned, he didn't move, he couldn't move. I tried to coax him over to me with words, "KENNY, GET OUTTA THE WAY, KENNY!" I yelled over and over again with tears steaming down my cheeks as I feared what seemed like the inevitable. I was too late to do anything else. He was hit, and the truck…vanished, without a trace. Did the driver even know he hit someone? I went over to Kenny and dialed 911. I checked his pulse, he was barely alive, his pulse was faint, but there, getting slower and slower, until it stopped. He was in my arms when he died, I watched him die. I checked my watch. Time of Death: 3:48 PM. No last words, no goodbyes, just death. Death had taken over the only person I had ever loved. Death's a bitch isn't it. Death had taken my boyfriend from me. I laid my wavy red hair over Kenny's almost unrecognizable face and cried, holding him as close to me as possible, even thought his blood was ruining my white T-shirt and my denim shorts.
By the time the ambulance showed up, Kenny had been gone for almost 5 minutes. The coroner took his lifeless body to the morgue. The next time I saw him was at his funeral, 3 weeks later. I cried more than his family did. I talked with the McCormick's after the ceremony.
"Good Afternoon Mr. and Mrs. McCormick, I'm terribly sorry for the loss of your son, it's my fault, he was under my protection, I should've taken better care of him." I started crying again, I probably looked like a pussy to them, but I didn't care, I missed Kenny.
Mrs. McCormick tried to comfort me, through her own tears. Once we had both calmed down a bit, she have me the container with Kenny's ashes inside.
"Here Kyle, Kenny loved you more than he loved us," she started as she gestured towards Kevin, herself and Mr. McCormick, "I know he would want you to have these." she started crying again, and this time Mr. McCormick tried to ease her pain.
"Thank you" I cried as I held Kenny's remains next to my heart.
I went home and placed the ashes on my desk. I sat in my office chair and looked at all the pictures I had of him and I, which made me cry even more. He looked happy in each of those pictures. He was so perfect, so innocent, so…mine! They were all taken by Stan. Stan? Oh, shit, I was supposed to drive him home after the funeral. Dammit! I lost my trail of thought when I heard a knock on the door.
"Come in" I said through tears still streaming down my face.
Stan walked in.
"Hey dude, you were supposed to take me home after the funeral, what happened?" He asked.
"Yeah, sorry, I forgot." I tried to laugh about it.
He stood behind me, "Are those Kenny's ashes?"
"Yeah, his mom gave them to me after the ceremony, she said he loved me more than he loved her." and I cried more.
Stan encased my frail body into a friendly hug. He tried comforting my by kissing me, thinking that was what I wanted, to be loved again, no I only want Kenny. I pushed Stan's lips away, but I left him hold me, because his figure was a lot like Kenny's. They both had broad shoulders and a chest that narrowed as it became their waist. He even stood like Kenny, his feet about 6 inches apart and his feet were pigeon-toed when he stood. I eased up my crying a bit because I almost forgot it was Stan. Almost. I went to run my fingers through Stan's hair. It wasn't like Kenny's hair. Kenny's hair was a little past his earlobe, and soft and lush. Stan's hair was shorter. His hair only went to the top of his ear, And his hair was stiff, I guess he gelled it, well, I hoped it was hair gel. His hair was sticky too, probably from the gel. I wiped my hands on my pants and began crying again, as I was faced with reality: Kenny was gone, and not even Stan could ease my pain, Kenny couldn't be replaced. Stan picked my up and laid my onto my bed. He laid next to me and listen to me mourn. 2 hours later, once I had calmed down a bit, once I had vented about how miserable I was, Stan left, and I felt alone again. I began talking to Kenny's ashes.
"Kenny, why did you leave me so soon? I wasn't done loving you, I'll never be done loving you. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I tried, Kenny, I tried, you know that right? You know I would've saved you if I could've. But it was too late, I was too late. And now you're gone, and it's all my fault." I cried some more and then fell asleep in my desk chair.
I couldn't walk on Main Street anymore. The memories of Kenny's death haunt m wherever I go, but they were the worst on Main Street. I saw the exact seen every time I did so much as think about Main Street. I saw the truck, and Kenny, and myself. I saw the blood and the tears, and I heard the collision and the tears and the screaming. And I couldn't do it. I dreamt of him too. Every night. I was scared to the point where I screamed. My mother came into my room every night when I had these nightmares. I always asked the same question to her. "Where's Kenny?" My mother cried every time I asked. I talked with Kenny's ashes every day. And it was always the same one-way conversation, "I'm sorry, there was nothing I could do, It's all my fault," or something along those lines. The regret was eating at my heart and soul. It should've been me, I should've pushed him outta the way, even if it would be risking my own life in doing so. But he deserved to live!
I prayed every night, I prayed that my life would be stripped from me during the night, so I wouldn't have to wake up in a world without Kenny. My wish was never granted, leaving me to believe the even Abraham can't help me at this point.
Three months had passed and I had shunned myself from the world. I stopped talking to my parents, my brother, my friends, even Stan. No one could ease my pain, so I didn't talk to anyone, except my love. I talked to Kenny every day. I talked to him until I cried. I'd spend hours in my room with him. Stan tried calling me every day, hoping that I would open up to him. I never answered, I let it ring and kept talking to Kenny. My mother had stopped coming into my room when I woke up every night. I guessed she had stopped caring. I soon stopped sleeping, because I knew the nightmares were coming. I just spent every night with Kenny's ashes. I got ready for school every morning. When I'd get to school people would stare at me. Probably thinking, Look there's the emo faggot. I didn't care what anyone though about me. I never spoke to anyone. Not my teachers, not my guidance counselor, not Stan. I worked on my own in group projects and science labs. I didn't answer teachers questions or laugh at anyone's jokes. I ate by myself, sometimes I didn't even eat. I sat there and waited for Kenny to come back. He never did. Ijust started skipping school and staying in my room, with the only person I felt I needed to talk to, Kenny.
Stan worried where I was. He came to my house after school one day. I was laying in my bed when I heard a knock on the door. I stood up and opened it, expecting it to be my mother with my laundry, but I was wrong, it was Stan. I just laid back in my be and stared at the ceiling.
"You weren't at school today." he said in the sweetest tone he could make
I refused to answer
"I miss you, we all do, you haven't been at school for almost 4 days"
Still no answer.
"Well, look dude, I know life has been hard for you since Kenny died, but you need to get back to life. That's what Kenny would've wanted."
That's when I had it with Stan.
"How do you know what he wanted. I sometimes think to myself why didn't he gat outta the way? Did he want to die? I can't live without him, Stan! My life revolved around him, and when he stopped being, so did I." I said calmly, but he could tell I was angry with him.
"Well, we cant turn back time, so why can't you just accept the fact he's gone and move on!" Stan was getting upset as well, and he quickly regretted saying that, he put his hand over his mouth.
"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! YOU NEVER WILL! I LOVED HIM WITH ALL MY HEART. WHEN HIS HEART STOPPED BEATING SO DID MINE! AND ALL I HAVE LEFT ARE PICTURES AND ASHES!" I flipped on Stan, "Do you even know what love is Stan? You claimed to love Wendy when we were kids. But do you know what love is?" I calmed down a bit.
"Fine, spend the rest of your life up here! I don't give a shit anymore!" he yelled as he slammed the door shut.
"You never did." I said to myself, and I laid there as the beginning stages of yet another tear session came on.
3 weeks later. I haven't heard from Stan or anybody. I haven't left my house in almost a month. My room was always dark , no sunlight, no light bulbs. Just complete darkness. All the time. My mother stopped putting my clothes in my room. She left them outside. And knocked on the door when they were there. I guessed she couldn't stand seeing me so depressed. She did the same with food. I noticed something. The same tuck that killed Kenny ran down Main Street at the same time every day.
December 16. 2:18 PM I sat at my desk with a pencil and paper. I wrote my goodbye's:
Dear supposed loved ones,
The death of Kenneth "Kenny" McCormick has left my life with no meaning. I find no reason to live anymore. So goodbye to my mother, my father, Ike and Stan, the only one that tried to help me in my months of depression.
Kyle Broflovski
I didn't worry about leaving anyone upset, because I put it in my mind that no one cared. I told myself that Kenny was the only one that gave a shit about me.
Once I finished my letter, I went into my closet to change. It had been a while since I had looked at what I wanted to wear. I dug through my closet to find my white T-shirt, covered in tear and blood stains, and I found my denim shorts, also covered in blood, but dirt as well. I also put my hair up, because that's how it was on August 10th, a day that will be engraved into my mind like a name upon a tombstone, hidden, but always there. I stared at the clothes for almost half an hour, remembering the downfall of my life. I wanted to return to Kenny the same way I left him, I wanted us to live on from there, happy and finally free, but I didn't want to relive that afternoon. Once I was ready, I grabbed Kenny's ashes and left the comfort of my solitude for the first time in almost a month. The sun was at its highest and the light damaged my vision for a few moments, but I gained sight, I kept on my way. As I made my courageous walk towards Main Street, I noticed several friendly waves from past friends, sure their waves were inviting, but their body language said other wise. I hear what they think: freak, why don't you just stay inside, look it's the ginger day walker roaming the sunlight again. Okay, so that last one was actually said, by none other than Eric Cartman, but I wasn't in the mood to argue with him, I let him bother me and kept on my way. I also saw Stan whileI was walking. He was the only one that didn't send me waves of disapproval. He looked concerned, he looked at me, then the ashes I held in my arms, then me again. He saw my clothes and almost vomited. He was curious as to where I was going. He followed me, he stayed several feet behind me, but I could tell he was stalking my every move.
3:46 PM. It has been almost 5 months since Kenny left me. And I couldn't deal with the emptiness in my heart any longer. I stood in the middle of the crosswalk at the Main Street intersection. I looked at me feet, then a little to the right. I saw blood stains. The lines of the crosswalk had been painter, but the blood was still very recognizable on the asphalt. I looked up again and saw the truck creeping out of the horizon. With Kenny's ashes in my arms, I stood there, happy, for the first time in 5 months.
3:47 PM. With me wavy red hair flung in front of my eyes, I looked over at Stan, who was starting to understand the whole thing. It had begun snowing, leaving Stan's raven colored hair covered in white specks. He looked as though he was gong to run into the street and save me. I signaled him no to and mouthed two simple words to him, "I'm Sorry." I thing he understood and calmed down a bit, but still very uneasy about the whole thing. This was what I wanted, this made me happy, and whoever stripped my happiness from me, was a fucking kill joy. I looked back at the road, and the truck was mere yards away from me, I looked up into the sky and screamed "I'm coming Kenny!" and with that, it was over. All the pain, all the emptiness, all the depression, it was all gone and so was I.
STAN'S POV
What the Fuck dude? Kyle just killed himself. Didn't that little fucker understand I was madly in love with him? Without thing about it, I ran over to his deformed body and held his lifeless figure.
"You fucker, why would you go and do something so fucking stupid?" I yelled as I shook his unresponsive body.
I didn't feel the need to call and ambulance, he was already gone. I called his mother instead.
"Hello, Mrs. Broflovski?" I asked after she answered the phone, fighting back tears with all my strength.
"Hello is this Stan?" She asked in her usual tone, unaware of the fact of the matter.
"Yeah, this is Stan."
"Where are you Stanley?" she asked.
"Main Street." I answered the best I could.
"Well, Stanley, Kyle isn't home right now." she replied, assuming I wanted to speak with him.
"Yeah, Mrs. Broflovski, I know he's not home, I didn't want to talk to Kyle, I have something devastating to tell you." I tried holding back the tears, but a few went astray.
"Well, what is it son?" she asked, suddenly intrigued.
"Kyle's…dead. He killed himself" At that moment I couldn't do it anymore, I had begun sobbing and all tears has released.
I heard the phone drop and the door slam shut. Mrs. Broflovski was on Main Street in less then 3 minutes. She took Kyle from me and cried over him, hoping it wasn't true, hoping that it was just a dream, I wanted to think the same thing, but I knew it was reality. I stood up and took my shirt off. There was too much blood and regret to keep it with me. I threw it on the ground next to Kyle and started walking off in the freezing snow, listening to the cries of a distraught Mrs. Broflovski.
I was angry, well, no shit, I loved the little fucker. But I was also happy, I knew he was happy. Kenny was his life, and now they were back together. I went back to the suicide scene to grab the container with Kenny's ashes and then went to my house to shower.
At Kyle's funeral one week later, I brought Kenny's ashes. After the ceremony, I asked Mrs. Broflovski for Kyle's ashes, as he was cremated as well. She gave them to me without a second thought. I went someone alone so no one would ever know what I was to do his ashes. I opened Kyle's ashes and I opened Kenny's ashes. I poured Kenny's ashes in with Kyle's. I gave back the container, which was now twice as heavy, back to Mrs. Broflovski. She thanked me and I left the temple. What I did felt right, because they were together like they had always wanted.
The End
Okay, so yeah, reviews, as usual, and basic stuff. But yeah, my boyfriend passed away almost 2 months ago, it feels like it's been 2 years. I've just been upset and decided, hey, I'll write how I feel, yup. Now granted I'm not epically depressed or suicidal, but yup. So thanks for reading and hopefully I can thank you for reviewing too. J