Hello again! Yes, I'm back with another depressing piece of crap. For those of you who are my faithful readers, I love you all.
First of all, I'd like to apologize. Yes, this is the oneshot sequel to "I'm Still Waiting", which was in Butters' point of view. This is Kenny here, this is his P.O.V. This may ruin the mood of the first one and make you want to say, WTF? This is stupid! So, if you do, I'm sorry, but Kenny was screaming at me in my dreams, bleeding black blood as he choked me until I wrote this. So...yah, just read. by the way, I was listening to 'You Will Be Loved' by Death Cab for Cutie. Not exactly the best song for this, but it helped me write. OH!! Dude!! if you guys think up of a song for this, and I like it, I will totally put you up in here!!
Disclaimer: Y'know, one day, when Matt and Trey are old and gray (ha, rhyme!) I'm gonna buy SP from them and Comedy Central. I shall, and then I shall own this and never have to write another disclaimer again. Cuz I'll own it.
You were always different. You weren't like the others I knew. And it was just you, no-one else was even close to how you were. For some reason you were the only one who cared, who actually had a heart. And in a place filled with only stagnant death, it attracted me like a moth to flame.
Delicious. Irresistible.
I remember once, when you were walking with me on the train tracks next to my house. I had invited you, mainly because everyone else I knew was busy. I never really talked to you much. You were just somebody in the background, a kid I saw in school sometimes. But you came when I called you, and walked with me.
You were shy, I could tell. And why wouldn't you be? I was almost a complete stranger to you.
In a spur-of-the-moment thing, I hopped up on the tracks, waving for you to join me. You did. We walked some more in silence, while I wondered why you were here. Even though I barely knew you, you had never struck me as the risky type. Then, suddenly, we heard a low roar behind us. The rare train, uncommonly seen in the town, was coming toward us.
I stared at it, and as I watched, I felt the stirrings of very familiar feelings; I felt a deep want, a lust, a need. I think I smiled. My heart sped up a bit as I contemplated what I could do, what power I held in my hands. I could defy all the laws of God and death. I was immortal. A frantic tug made me realize you were still there. Still with me.
The tracks rattled as it came closer, and I almost lost myself as I drowned in the feeling of my heart pounding, my breath suddenly becoming shallower, deeper, those butterflies prancing in my stomach. I reveled in my death, in those wonderful feelings it gave me as I faced it. But as I took notice of you, I realized you couldn't. You weren't meant to feel the greatest high life had to offer: death.
Not yet, anyway.
I pushed you off of the tracks, that sick grin still on my face. You looked up at me from the snow, safe, and I almost laughed.
"Isn't it beautiful, Butters?" I said to you, oh-so reverently.
And in that split second you have before death, that one final chance for your last thought as time slows down, I saw your eyes. Big and blue, staring at me so fearfully. They were filled with sorrow and something almost like despair, tears pooling in their soft depths. You actually cared that I was about to die. It surprised me so much but at the same time, filled me with a feeling so familiar, yet so alien, that my heart beat even faster.
Then I was gone. It was only after I had come back from Hell that I realized what that feeling was. It was something that I had only felt when I stared death in the face, defiant. The only thing that cut through the dead haze of my suicidal soul. It was joy.
I think that was when I fell for you.
Yes, I loved you, but not in the way you're meant to love. You were my Other, the light to my dark, the sun to my moon. You were my opposite. If I could have lived as a mirror reflection of myself, I would have been you. Happy. Cheerful. Alive.
You were my second addiction. I needed you, needed you like a drug. You cared about morbid me; worried and continuously cried when I died. And I thrived off of it. I had been blessed, or cursed, with a bungee cord attached to my life; I would fall toward death, only to kiss the cold ground and shoot back up toward life. While everyone merely fell, I bounced. So it was logical that people would not care. Why should they, as long as that cord was attached?
But you, sweet, caring you!! You still thought my life had value, that it was something precious and meant to be cared for, and I loved you so much because of it.
I started visiting you a lot after the train thing, throwing rocks at your window at night, and you grew used to my orange parka-ed presence while I got drunk off of your smiles and tears. I lead while you followed, and thus, you saw me dance with death many, many times. Your tear-streaked face started to become the last thing I craved before I had my escape.
When I was younger, I used to think of snow before I died. It was so pure and white, and always there, watching me when I died. It's cold beauty blanketed my mind in that sacred final second. But then it was you. You, with your blue eyes and warm heart, your faithful obedience and the way you always let me in at night, even if it just to talk. It was you who invaded my last thoughts, and it intoxicated me.
I wasn't stupid, I knew it hurt you. But I could not live without my death, without those few seconds of release when I truly felt what it was like to be alive. People cut themselves to feel life, but I had discovered the perfect way, the ultimate gift. And I held on to it jealously.
Your pleas got worse over the years when it started taking me longer to come back, and the last time I saw you, you begged on your knees for me to stop, to enjoy my (in my humble opinion) twisted half-life. In the back of my mind, I wanted to. I wanted to stop and explore the depths of your heart, to see what else lay in your sky eyes. I wanted to know what it was that made you so alive. But I knew that in reality, I was too far gone, too lost to be saved.
So when my car skidded off the road that night, I didn't fight it. I just flew, and let my mind fill with thoughts of you.
I'm stuck in Hell now, and I know that this time, I'm not coming back. That was it. No more. My cord snapped.
It's not like I'm being tortured. I lost all my fears in my multiple lifetimes and pain no longer bothered me. Death took that from me, along with so many other things.
No, my punishment is to sit here, and think. But all I can think of is how fast I would do it all again. I guess I haven't learned anything. I just can't bring myself to regret any of it. Not even your pain. It was only proof that you cared.
So now I sit here and think. I wonder when people will, if they'll ever, realize I'm never coming back. I wonder if then they would miss me. I wonder if you miss me. Or maybe you're just happy to be released from your depressing burden. I wonder if one day you'll join me here. But, you being the way you are, I doubt it.
But who knows? Maybe one day, life will sink in its harsh cold claws into you. And you'll lose your beautiful innocence and fall, like me. Become another lost soul looking for an escape. I wonder if that would actually happen. I wonder if you would want it to happen. I wonder if you want to see me again.
But I don't pretend to know the answers to any of those, so I'm just waiting. Because that's all I have left to do.