Shot dead. Shot in the back. My best friend. My super best friend. What did he do to deserve this? The fatass would probably say he deserved it. That he had it coming to him. But, no one, no one but me really knows what happened. Should I really be remembering? Someone should know. Someone should punish the bastard who did this…
"See ya Kenny!" Stan left his friend's house and walked purposely down the ally way leading to his street. He just wanted to get home and out of the cold.
But someone was watching him, following his every move…
"Stan" said a voice.
"Oh, what do you want? I'm still totally pissed off with you, you know that."
"I know, Stan. That's what I've come here to set right. Your time is up Stan…"
The gun spat out one bullet. That's all it took. It powered into his back.
A look of surprise crossed his face. He crumpled to the ground. He managed one word, just one, before his life was over.
"Why?" …
So that's it. That's how it happened. Who was the killer?
Me.
I, Kyle Broflovski, killed my best friend Stan Marsh, because we argued over what colour coat we should get Kenny for his birthday. It's strange really, how something that lasts five minutes can destroy a friendship forever.
People keep telling me to move on. I will, eventually. But I will never forgive myself for what I did to him.
Never.