Hey everyone! This is my first story, so please read, and tell me if anything needs to be changed. (grammar mistakes, etc.) Thanks.
Oh, and South Park? I don't own it.
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14 year old Eric Cartman leaned back against his locker, waiting for his "friend". As Kyle Brofloski turned the corner, Eric spotted him, and strode over to him.
"Hey jewfag."
"Shove it fatass." he said mechanically.
"Aw, what's wrong, Kyle? Did I ruffle your ginger hair?"
"Shut up, Cartman." hissed Kyle.
"Ooh, touchy... How much you pay for that hair?"
"THAT'S IT!" yelled Kyle, throwing his books to the floor. He grabbed Cartman's collar and pinned him to the wall. "I have had enough of you, you fat fuck!"
Startled heads turned, and a small crowd began to gather.
"I have tried to be your friend, long after everyone else in this whole god damned town gave up on you! I don't know whether you were just brought up wrong, or if you're just fucked in the head, but I do know that I have stayed the longest. You know why? Because I'm naïve! Because I see good in everyone! Even you." He gave Cartman a contemptuous once-over, and scoffed.
"You are a horrible, manipulative, arrogant, racist, self-centered bastard, and I still thought you could change. Well congratulations Eric, you've proved me wrong. Even after you're friends deserted you, Wendy left you, and you are hated by everyone you've ever come into contact with, you still continue to act like you just couldn't give a SHIT!" I sighed, and let go. Cartman spat in his face. Kyle wiped it off calmly.
"Maybe you really don't. Maybe there is no hope for you. Maybe I should have just given up on you a long time ago. Fuck, I don't know. What I do know is that I'm giving up now. That last person who ever gave a shit about you is gone now, Eric. I doubt if anyone will ever care again. You're going to die alone, and nobody will care. I hope you're happy." And with that, Kyle let go, turned around, and just walked away.
Eric Cartman was stunned. He looked around at the rather large crowd of people. They were clapping. Those fuckers were clapping for for Kyle. That little jewish bastard had just shown him up in front of the whole school, and they were clapping and patting his back. Cartman seethed, and in a final complete loss of control, he drew his knife.
"Kyle!" yelled Stan.
Yeeeesssss! Cartman ran and stabbed Kyle in the back. The whole world seemed to stop along with the two centers of attention. Cartman withdrew the short, but sharp blade. Kyle slowly turned around and faced him. His face was blank.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOO! screamed Stan, pushing through the crowd to catch Kyle as he fell to the ground. Kyle's eyes were glazed over, and there was blood everywhere.
Cartman's expression changed to one of horror. He looked at the bloody knife in his hand, and dropped it. He slowly backed up, and then broke into a run.
Stan Marsh held his best friend's lifeless body close, sobbing uncontrollably. Tears flowed freely down his face. "K-Kyle... No... Kyle! You have to wake up! WAKE UP!" He shook Kyle forcefully, then tears overtook him again. He didn't notice the screaming of the crowd, or Kenny's horrified stare, or Mr. Mackey pushing his way to the front, frantically asking what happened. Kyle was dead.
Police arrived at the Cartman residence two hours later, and found the dead body of Eric Cartman, lying with slit wrists on the floor.
Everyone in town came to Kyle Brofloski's funeral. Stan and Kenny sat, along with Kyle's parents, in the front row. A part of Stan Marsh had died that day, along with his best friend. He was never the same again.
Eric Cartman's funeral was planned for the next week. Nobody came. Not even his own mother. He died alone, and was buried alone, at the stroke of midnight. His tombstone said nothing except his name, and dates of birth and death. No one ever spoke of him again, and in time, he was forgotten. He had loved no one, and no one had ever loved him. He just became another worn away tombstone, in the South Park cemetery.