It was that time of week again, Sunday afternoon, the only time I had free. I was always busy, homework, work, friends, Wendy; I was always up to my neck in things I had to take care of. This week was especially heinous, the school season was wearing down and final exams were coming up, I had been studying hard, if I failed any, it would be my head. But all of that didn't matter right now; it never mattered on Sunday afternoons. Straightening my tie, I stepped out of the old junker I drove, the gravel crackling under my feet. It was so quiet there, silent, dead. Chuckling to myself I stepped onto the meticulously groomed grass and counted seven in. I really didn't need to do that, I knew where it was very well, after all, I'd been going there every Sunday afternoon for two years. I smiled slightly, a sad lonely smile that often crept onto my face, and sat down next to him.

"Hey," I said resting my head on the marble "How's life treating you?"

I wish he could speak back, but he couldn't.

"Final exams, god I wish you were here, I could use your help. You were always smarter than me, Kyle. You could have done something great, you know that? Yeah, I know, I say that every time I'm here, I can't help it. Wendy's been on my case a lot lately, mostly about you. She's barely ever sees me anymore, and she's ticked when I don't hang with her on Sundays. Yeah, I don't get it either, I mean, I thought she'd understand, she was there, she went through it too, but I guess she wasn't your best friend, now was she?" I was grinning like a mad man, tears running down my face "Damnit man, I fucking miss you."

Three years ago, four months, six days, and three hours ago from this day, something began to happen to my best friend. He'd always been frail and sickly, mostly because of his diabetes, he didn't take very good care of it, he often forgot to take his insulin and he'd forget to test and he wouldn't check to see if anything he ate had extreme amounts of sugar in it or anything. I guess I should have seen it coming, his lack of care for his own body, his destructive behavior, he had bad kidneys, always had. The one Cartman gave him was almost as bad as the one he got rid off. I told him to lay off the drugs, I told him to watch his diabetes, I told him time and time again, but then, three years, four months, six days, and three hours ago, I gave up trying to tell him what to do and just let him do what he wanted to. I should have known what would happen, I was the last string holding him up since his parents divorce, and with that last string clipped, he fell. Two months later he ended up in the hospital from alcohol poisoning, I was the one who brought him home, tended to him for a while, until he blew up in my face again, than I left, again. But not much of this matters, he bounced in and out of rehab, the hospital, into my arms, back out of them again. I repeatedly took him in, than shut him out. I still feel as if it was my fault that he's dead, and all the memories of him and me play in my head like some sort of sick torture that I cannot escape from, the day he called in a drug induced stupor, crying and screaming that something was wrong with him. I told him to sleep it off, I wish I hadn't.
Kyle Broflowski was found the next day, face down in a pool of blood and vomit, dead. His excessive drug use had shut down his liver, which in turn poisoned the rest of his body.

I couldn't cry at his funeral, something in my wouldn't let me, something in me told me that he wasn't dead, that he'd never be dead, to me at least.

"Stan?" she lightly touched my shoulder and I looked up, my eyes were blurred by the tears I didn't cry at his funeral. "are you all right?"

"I guess," I lied turning away from her. She was a pretty girl, there was no doubt about it, she had big doe eyes with long dark lashes, pretty black hair that was always maliciously groomed, she always wore the best clothes, but with all of that. I didn't like her. My heart was barren and cold, always to be stoic, all the love in my body died with my best friend.

"Come on, you were supposed to be home an hour ago."

I look down at my wrist watch, she was right, three hours had flown by like nothing, but I didn't want to leave. Leaving was always the hardest part.

"I guess I have to go," I said softly patting the grave stone "till next week, I guess, unless I see you before then. Bye Kyle."

"Is there something wrong, something you should tell me about?" Wendy said on the drive home, I turned half away fumbling with the CD changer, turning on The Used than turning it to I Am Ghost, than off, then to Kyle's mixed CD that he'd left in my car, a few days before he died. My fingers lingered on the dials as the mixture of hip hop and rock entered my ears. I'd always hated the hybrid music, the synthetic droning and the degrading lyrics, but it was his music and I couldn't turn it off.

"Stan, please, just talk to me."

She was almost crying, but I couldn't open my mouth, it felt as if it was sewn shut, and even if I could open my mouth, I couldn't tell her, there wasn't anything to tell, she knew almost everything, and if I said nothing, she would turn it into her fault, that she didn't do this, or didn't do that. Girls were such a pain sometimes. I just continued to flip through the songs till we got to my house, I got out, said nothing to Wendy, just nodded and waved her good bye, walked inside, and went straight to my room.

Have you ever heard a song that will basically sum up your entire life experience in a few lines? I barely find them, but when I do, I listen them on repeat for hours without end. Right now, Mirrors and Cameras by The Black Maria is blaring on my stereo, and I feel guilty and lonely and a shell, a shell of someone I use to be and that I'm not anymore. The happy boy that use to smile so much, that use to be so happy. I guess I'm depressed, guiltier more than anything to be exact. It's been over two years, and god only knows I can't forgive myself. I'm shivering, though it's not cold, clinging to the flesh on my body, the flesh that can't be mine. It's cold, but I'm not cold, I'm hollow, this skin is just like fabric, yet I can't feel it, I can't feel the fingernails in my skin, but I know that they're there. Sick old memories play over and over again in my head.

"Stan, STAN! Something…something is wrong!"

"Dude, are you high? It's two thirty in the morning."

"No…yes, yes I am, but that's not the point, the point is somethings wrong!"

"Yeah, you're high, go to bed Kyle."

"No, Stan, no, something's really wrong, I feel wrong."

"You just need to sober up, go to bed Kyle, I'll talk to you in the morning."

"Stan, no, Stan, NO! Stan!"
"I am hanging up now Kyle, go to sleep."
"Stan, I lo-"
"I wish I knew what he said." I muttered to myself "he lo's me? Loaths? Loans? Lactates? No, no that's just dumb. Maybe he loves me? Loves. Brotherly love? Must be."

But I knew it was more than that, I knew what he meant, and I should have said something. It was why I couldn't love Wendy; it was why I could never love anyone else ever again. I don't see why we didn't explore this so much sooner, I didn't see at the time, probably. I had been totally gay for Kyle since the beginning, but when we were fourteen, we really began to explore. Following strange feelings that we had in the pits of our stomachs, feelings that led us to do things, ah! Another dingy memory that I wish I could just erase.

"But how do you.."

"I don't know, how am I supposed to know."

"At least you've been with Wendy." He smiled that cute little smile that made my heart melt.

"Pull your pants off, now," I barked, but than caught myself "please."

"Fuck, you're eager."

"Yeah well, I haven't seen any action in ages dude."

"Or should you say at all?"

"Shut the fuck up dude." I pulled my pants down and began to blush furiously, he had been right, I'd never seen any at all, till this day.

I smiled, laughed insanely, right on these sheets, parents downstairs, they didn't know, they couldn't understand the feelings I felt for Kyle. All they knew is that I was his best friend, that's all they would ever know. That had been a glorious day anyways, taught us to use lubricant or we would be walking like "G's" for day's afterward. Still smiling, I rolled over and grabbed my pillow, hugging it close to my shivering body, I laughed into it, muffling my mixture of crying and laughing, the pain I felt in my tightening chest and sinking stomach finally taking its toll on my mind. My fault, my fault, always always my fault, stupid little naïve Stan, you're sick. Sick, sick little boy.

Sitting up, I looked in the mirrior, the person looking back looked like shit. Gaunt, puffy red guilt filled eyes, crooked teeth and smile, or lack there of. That person was a shell, a shell filled with a ghost.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" I yelled at him

"You." He said smirking

"Why, what the hell do you want?"

"You."

"Go away."

"I can't."

"Why, just go away, I don't want to see you!"

"Because I am you, Stanly,"

"No, you can't," I gripped my alarm clock firmly in my left hand

"Ah, but I am, and I will always be, till you die of old old age,"

"Fuck that!"

I whipped it like a baseball, it slid from my fingers, it shattered the mirror, shrapnel flung everywhere, Hiroshima. It was too far from my bed though, much to far, so I crawled off, shuddering and mumbling to myself.

"fuck you, fuck that, fuck you, fuck that, I don't care, go away, fuck you, fuck that."

I said it over and over, looking over every single shard of mirror that spread itself across my room. Picking up the largest and sharpest, I smiled.

"I reach for razor blades

I wanna cut myself,

I don't know what I say"

"tisk tisk,"

It was the man in the mirrior again

"What?
"Tisk tisk, little emo Stan, living up to the expectations of what everyone else expects of him. You don't have to do this, you can just live on, go find someone else."

"There is no one like Kyle, you can't understand, you never can."

"Stan, don't!"

"Stop trying to emulate him!" I screamed plunging in deep into my forearm, it stung so much, so much for than I thought. I hurt like fuck, so much, but it was too late to turn back, blood was bubbling from my arm running down, dripping like a faucet. Pulling back with a strange strength, the flesh tore, it made a strange noise, like nothing I could emulate, blood bubble, pooled and poured from my forearm, but that wasn't enough, it was just one side, one ventrical down, so I tore it from the vein and plunged it deep into the other arm. My left arm was so weak, as I pulled back, the wound in my left arm opened more, it poured onto my clothes, soaking them slightly. When it was all said and done, I pulled myself up onto my bed and laid back. Closing my eyes, I sighed, the room was spinning, but I could care less. I was tired, I just wanted to sleep, my shivering turned into slight convulsions, but I turned and blind eye to it and fell asleep.

There was screaming, screaming my name, I was weak and laughing.

"Stan! Stan!" She screamed shaking me, I closed my eyes and rolled my head over

"Ma'am please don't do that." One of the men in white said

"Stan! Why? What did I do?" she was sobbing, I felt bad, Wendy did nothing, she wasn't the cause of this. Oh my god, my head was pounding, it hurt so bad, my entire body felt drained of all energy, my mind wavered in and out, but I needed to tell her, I knew it was almost time, a time I couldn't wait for.

"N-nothing." I choked out, my mouth dry, it felt like it was stuffed with cotton

"Then why? Why would you do this?" She was in hysterics, sobbing clutching my hand, or at least I think she was, my flesh was still so numb.

"F-for Kyle,"

It was dark again.

Fuck, there was a light, a bright bright light. And people, there were a lot of people, all in white, masks, muttering things. I couldn't tell, they sounded so far away. Thread and needles, strange liquids were being poured into my body, I just wanted to force them out, I didn't want this. Why couldn't people just let me be? When I say I want to be alone, I want to be alone, but no one ever listens, they figure they must be around me at all times. Stupid, stupid fuckers, dumb animals that could never hope to understand, I laughed weakly.

"We're losing him, we're losing him!"

They were running around now, frantic, so fast than…nothing. Everything stopped.

"Stan?"

I blinked a few times, just to make sure my mind wasn't playing a trick on me. There he was, glowing so brightly my eyes could barely stand it. Exactly the way I left him, the way he left me, my messy red head angel.

"K-Kyle?" I choked out

He reached his hand out to me, smiling, his eyes tearing up, I reached out to the shining hand, but when he took it, the shell fell away. I was free. The lights, they were so much dimmer than before, they were dark compared to Kyle's angelic form.

"Kyle, Kyle," I cried over and over, clutching him, burying my head into his chest.

"It's all right Stan," there was distain in his voice. Did he not forgive me?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I couldn't stop the crystal tears that fell away

"Stop crying, it's all right now, but look, look what you've become, Stan," he physically turned my head and I looked down at the shell.

Ghastly pale, faded blue eyes staring out into space, clothes covered in dry blood, the shell was stick thin, weak looking, but all it was, was a shell that contained me.

"It's over now." I moaned, clutching him. As in life, he was a good head taller than I, willowy all muscle, a soft touch, messy red hair, brilliant green eyes and a warm smile that always melted my heart.

"Do you know what you have done Stan?" he said pushing me away, his voice choked with tears

"Yes, I did it for you, to be with you." I sobbed

"No, you did it for yourself, and now," his voice cracked and faded away

"Now what? Now what Kyle?" I yelled shaking him, he just hung his head

"You go to hell,"

The room began to shake, yet none of the doctors seemed to notice. My grip on Kyle tightened, a rift began to form in the floor, screaming filled the room, torturous screaming

"What?" I screamed

"Good-bye Stan," he muttered as what seemed to be a thousand hands reached from the firey rift and grabbed my ankles, but I refused to let go

"I won't go, I don't want to be without you again, no, no!" I was screaming at the top of my lungs

"I'm sorry Stan, but it has to be this way, I can't do anything about it, you sealed your fate."

"No, Kyle, no!"
Their grip was too strong, too powerful, my fingers were slipping from the fabric of his shirt

"Stan, I'll always love you." With that his kissed my forehead, my fingers slipped, I plummeted downward, the hands burning my flesh. I reached out ward one last time to my love.

"KYLE!" I screamed, but the rift closed, and I fell deeper and deeper into the bowels of hell.

I couldn't tell day from night here, but I knew I'd been out for a good while, my head pounded and my body ached. Propping myself up, I took a good look around. It was dark there, even with the rivers of fire flowing all around, it was like a dank cave filled with screaming people. I couldn't describe it even if I wanted to, so I just fell backwards and decided to sleep again.

"Stan Marsh?" I bolted up and was looking up at someone I had not seen in a long, long time.

"Oh, hi Satan,"

"I didn't expect to see you down here, what did you do?"

"Committed suicide," I shrugged

"Wow, never expected a kid like you to take your life, but I expect you haven't been the same since Kyle died, have you?"
"How did you know Kyle died?"
"Well, he was supposed to come down here, but his kidneys and liver gave out before he could die of the overdose he was scheduled to have a week later."

He said all of this so nonchalantly, I almost exploded in anger, talking about him that way. But the anger at him, quickly changed as I remembered how Kyle had slipped through my fingers again

"You know, I'm not supposed to be very gracious, and I'm supposed to be sentencing you to…" he pulled out a clip board and a pair of glasses and skimmed down the list "either commit your suicide every day or watch a replica of Kyle with another lover for the rest of eternity, but you know what? You really helped me Stan, you and your friends, and I am a gracious Devil."

I cocked my head to the side, unsure of what he was implying

"Are you going to send me to heaven to be with Kyle?"

He laughed a deep, hearty laugh.

"Good God no, I can't do that, the only person that can lift you from Hell is God, and he doesn't take kindly to someone who has rejected one of his greatest gifts."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Well, I'm going to let you go back to earth as a devil."

"A devil?" I said a bit confused

"Yes, just as there are guardian angels, there are guardian devils, have you never watched any of those cartoons when you were younger, where there was always and angel and a devil?"

"Yeah, but I thought that was just in cartoons."

"It sort of is, anyways, once you reach a certain age, you are given either a guardian angel or a guardian devil, depending on how you lived your life. Normally, devils are these little creatures," he motioned to the little dark dust balls that were fluttering around "but I owe you a big one. But it's all up to you."

"What does that have to do with anything? I still can't see Kyle." I hung my head, no matter what I chose I would still be spending an eternity without Kyle, and that was hell enough

"Maybe, but at least you'll be able to see your other friends and family, and that should at least count for something, shouldn't it?"

Looking up at the big, red, muscular Demon that stood before me a strange sick smile on his face, I guess I didn't really have much of a choice; it was either torture or watching over some retarded kid till he died. At least I'd get to see my family,

"So what do you say Stan?"

"Sure, why not, sounds like fun."

"All right then, this might hurt a bit." He cracked his knuckles and I squeezed my eyes shut. There was a crack of thunder and my body snapped into a ridged stick. Mouth and eye lids snapped open and I began to scream, it felt like fire was erupting from every pore in my skin, deep from my stomach. My body began to convulse and I fell to the floor, blood was running from my eyes and mouth. It felt as all my teeth were coming in at once and as if there were a million knives being pushed into my eyes and back. I vomited violently, clutching my stomach body trembling. All the bones in my body began to snap and morph, they grew and healed, my fingernails shot from my skin and grew, my shoulder blades tore through my skin along with three of my rib bones on each side, the blood was red hot as it poured from my pale skin. The pain was like nothing I'd ever felt before, but as soon as it started, it ended, leaving me curled up on the floor in a ball, eyes squeezed shut, whimpering, the sick metallic smell of blood everywhere. It stung my nostrils; the screams were magnified piercing my ear drums, I was still in minor pain.

"Well, that we productive, Stan, open your eyes,"

My eye lids shot open on command without my willing, everything was clearer and had a strange dark aura around it.

"You can no longer be called Stan, you hear me?"

I nodded, my mouth too heavy to move

"You are now Loki, the trickster. Stand Loki."

Just as with my eye lids, I stood up without even telling my body too. I was taller, willowier; my hair was a bit longer.

"Go to Earth, my Son will help you from there, you hear me Loki?"

"Yes, my Lord."

It was strange, my voice was darker, more hisser as if a snake was trapped in my throat, answering all my questions.

"Now, he will be the only one to see you, maybe the one you guard, but you will be able to see others like you, other guardians. Maybe even people you know, eventually you will figure out how to do that, but it will be a long time before you can figure out how to take the form of a human, but now go, I've kept you here for too long. Keep in mind, time here and time on Earth is quite different, time there passes much more quickly to you. Now go, through those flames." He pointed to a large gateway where people were falling from by the thousands.

"Thank you Satan," I bowed before my new Dark Lord

"Think nothing of it, Loki, I owed you a big one. Now go."

With that, I turned tail, and glided my way to Earth.