AN: So, whelp, this is a fan fiction birthed from a dare by a friend and after a few rolls of the dice, this is what has come from it. I intend to finish this at all odds, even if it was a dare, I am too stubborn to leave it unfinished. as of writing this I am on Chapter 7, also, sorry if it is appallingly bad

Also, this is an AU (I think that's what it is called), the episode 'Damien' never happened and other things that will be revealed later.

(An update for 10/04/16) As of writing this, I have found that a lot of people have been reading Chapter 1 and just leaving. If someone could give me the reason of this so I could potentially improve, I would gladly accept and appreciate it. Thank you very much

- Xkia

Chapter 1

I woke up startled and confused to a bright light beaming on my face through the blinds of my windows and the sounds of colourful birds chirping incessantly outside. The light that I rarely see when I normally awake brought rushing questions to my mind.

'Why is it so sunny out" I thought aloud, slightly worried. It took a short, tick of a second for the fog of my mind to be washed away like the blast of a water hose and for it to finally dawn on me. Scrambling out of bed and looking around the room. It was not very big, barely enough space for my small oak single bed, a double door wooden wardrobe, mirror and then I focused my gaze on my desk that held the reason for my possible late awakening.

Rushing to it I looked at my Smartphone, with blurred, sleep filled eyes. I fumbled on the lock key trying in vain to turn it on until I finally realized that not a single drop of power was left in the battery and therefore no alarm to wake me up at the rare times I actually slept completely.

Actually grasping the severity of the fact that I may be late I hurried, bug eyed, to the wardrobe near the back of the room and proceeded to try and get dressed before any more time would tick. Messily I attempted to get changed out of my dark blue night clothes as quickly as humanly possible. Not knowing the actual time (only that it was Friday and it was significantly too late for my liking) and fearing any possible consequences to being late I wrestled with my clothes, trying to make myself at least slightly presentable. It took a few minutes but eventually I admired my handiwork at the mirror stationed to the right of my wardrobe.

my body, thin and around 5'8, dull blue eyes surrounded by bags that showed my almost complete lack of sleep, neck long straight blond hair that was fully visible on my head, no longer being obstructed by the odd flat cap I used to wear in my younger years, my old attire had gone with the hat, now wearing a white long sleeved button up shirt, blue vest, formal trousers and well polished leather shoes. I preferred to try and make myself look somewhat formal, it simply fit me more and I tried to dress like the gentlemen I strived to be. Although not as strange as what I used to wear, I was still mocked by the fools who thought I was swine due to my English nationality.

Snapping myself out of my stupor I rushed out of my room down the short corridor that separated the rooms of my flat to the main entrance, grabbing a light blue jacket off of the hanger and my backpack next to the door I ran down the stairs of the apartment complex towards the double glass doors that showed the bitter outside. The snow crunching beneath me on the untidy littered sidewalk as I sprinted to the bus stop, it was but a few streets away, every step it came closer and closer. I ran with one single goal and the chant of 'don't be late, don't be late' piercing through my mind like the mantra of a choir repeating and repeating not wanting my goal to be lost in my mind as I scampered, nearly slipping purely from my own momentum.

After what seemed like an eternity I saw my salvation on the quickly approaching horizon, the scratched, barely standing, and faded old red bus stop sign and with students milling about around it in their various cliques too! Deciding it was safe enough for me to walk to the outskirts of the conglomeration of teenagers I hid from the group and thought on why I even bothered. I was still mocked and tormented solely for the facts that I was a target, an immigrant (even though virtually all the population of this country are descended from immigrants), the idiots of this town couldn't handle someone who wasn't a empty-headed redneck with no sense of empathy or sympathy, hell bent on hurting others, and generally odd, at least in their uncaring eyes. Over 5 years since my near death encounter and still I was mocked. I had hoped for the slightest sign of sympathy from the mad men and women, who inhabited this redneck town, but my hopes had been unwise and the torment had only grown like an untreated pus filled infection from that day forward.

Smiling to myself for not being late, I stayed as far away from the large gathering with the hope as to not be spotted, for if I was, I would become the center of their insults. 'thank all that is holy I wasn't late, god only knows what would have happened if I was late again,' I thought to myself as I sat, hidden behind one of the many trees, I was only allowed to live on my own if I could show my ability to look after myself. I was surprised that I was allowed to live on my own, but this town was secluded and uncared for enough by the rest of the world for something as simple as for me to be left to virtually fend for myself would be left without a bat of an eyelash.

I overheard the pointless, idle chit - chat of my schoolmates, nothing but pointless talk, gossip, the new phone/game console or other object of amusement that is " bound" to be better than the last and mostly other pointless nonsense not worthy of being spoken, but the one thing I noticed in the talking was mention that there may be a new student coming to North park, not hearing any more than that I mulled over this potential new person.

'If this person does exist' I thought 'I expect them to pick on me like the rest, I get another tormentor, oh joy'. I sighed and mulled over what this possible new person would be like but before I could even attempt to visualize what they may have looked like, the elderly, warn bus pulled up. Its" originally bright yellow paint now a rusted, faded version of its" former self, the bus itself was barely operational, it was a miracle that the breaks still worked, most of the seats were stained and almost constantly damp as well as seatbelts with which almost all of them didn't have working buckles, how the bus hadn't been replaced is beyond me, the schools budget wasn't that small, they were just tight gits.

Moving to the back of the queue to get on the death trap known as my way to school I found myself unlucky as I was behind the oversized neo Nazi Eric Cartman, or fat-arse as the rest of the school was content at naming him. Surprisingly he didn't even notice or acknowledge me even as I passed him to get to the back of the dingy, foul, dead, rancid smelling bus, the most secluded and less destroyed part of it.

The trip itself was nothing note worthy the only thing I did was think, seeing as my phone had no charge I couldn't listen to my music and the only noteworthy thing about what I thought about was my academic career which was the best (and most probably only) thing going for me, my grades were one of the highest in the class with me being neck and neck against Wendy Testaburger and Kyle Broflovski, seeing as I was at their " level" meant that they were some of the only people who acknowledged my existence without insults or injury. Unfortunately my intellect got me more insults and beatings from others for me being intelligent, although my other two competitors got no such harassment.

Arriving at the school I waited for the rest of the students to leave the bus before I left myself, I just stared out at the school, it was a large modern structure, the building made of visible brick but the windowsills were painted neon red. It was made of two separate buildings, a massive building that was for every subject par English which was in the other building, stationed behind the main building was both the cafeteria and English building (both of them were separated of course). I stared at them assuming that if I left just in time to get to my tutor that I would be behind all of the other students and then in turn not get noticed to become the center of attention by anyone who viewed me as " worthy" of their time and presence. This was the way I had struggled and crawled through most of this year/grade and surprisingly none of my idiotic tormentors had gathered my way of avoiding them, not that it upset me, and I usually had a pleasant beginning to the day, but alas it seemed that this particular day was destined to not be one of those.

As I left and walked up the cracked stone stairs to the partially windowed double door entrance I felt a weight press at me from behind, in an instant my body collided with the icy ground, it was as painful, the same as the other times, my vision becoming blurry and a shock run through my body by the sudden impact. Feeling a shoe press next to my spine and drive me down as I tried in vain to lift my body and escape.

"Say French, you ok down there" said the weasel like, unbroken and irritating voice of the psychotic Eric Cartman; he lifted his shoe only to slam it back down next to my spine sending a rushing river of pain coursing through my body.

The French insult meant nothing to me, it wasn't even correct, how something that means nothing to me could be considered an insult, I don't know. I am sure that the French thing was more of a habit to him than anything truly malicious. True it did harm my feelings many moons ago, for I didn't want my pride of country to be tarnished by these redneck fools but that was of no concern now, they had already humiliated me enough for no insult to bring a sliver of care to my being. The after effect of this though was to inflict physical abuse on me to produce a reaction, oh how I wished I had feigned care for their mockery for my aggressors had gained a taste for my pain, and they revelled in it.

Turning my head towards the obese cretin standing almost on top of me I noticed he didn't have his mindless brute followers. His old " friends" had left him near the end of elementary/primary school and at the time he acted as if it was nothing but dust flowing in the wind but I was positive it had crushed him and he had turned to me with raised fists in retaliation to his abandonment.

he himself was a oversized teen around 6 feet tall, face puffed and riddled with acne, wearing a jumper, jeans and the odd red and yellow poof ball hat, deep sharp brown uncaring, sadistic eyes holding a disgusting scowl on his face as he stared down on me, probably thinking of himself as some kind of god over my pathetic, mortal body.

I failed to see why Eric found such perverse pleasure in hurting others, possibly he was hiding something or maybe it was just the result of a bad childhood, but my childhood was bad, probably worse. Yes he was mocked by his close friends in primary school for his mum being the " village bicycle" so to speak but at least he had a parent, I can't even recall my parents" faces or voice, and I hated most forms of violence unlike him.

He smirked "ah... French, you see I have a problem, I'm feeling a bit down, so is it ok if I let my frustrations out by beating the everlasting shit out of you" his smirk had turned into a out of place innocent looking smile as he crouched down on top of me, digging his shoe into my body.

Feeling his weight alone almost crush my ribs and most of my internal organs was an experience I wish not to explain but all I can say is that it was excruciating. The pain caused belloweing screams of agony to erupt from my body as I squirmed and jerked underneath him. Just as he was lowering his fist in an attempt to punch the back of my head, luck seemed to be on my side as through my pained writhing I moved my head causing his fist not to collide with not me but the ground making the creature of almost entirely lard recoil off my body in pain.

Seeing my moment of freedom I scrambled up on instinct and rushed towards the doors, his curses and angry words behind me. My speed outweighed his by a large amount, and I sprinted towards my tutor room.

Pushing open the door and stumbling in, panting and sweating I looked up at my tutor, Mr Yates. A man of around sixty with greyed heir and old dull looking bored green eyes that focused on the desk in front of him.

"Sorry I'm late" I announced between deep inhales for precious oxygen filled air.

"To be honest Mr. Pirrup, I don't care, just sit down and shut up" he replied in a disinterested tone, holding his head in his right hand and slumping on his chair and glaring at everything but nothing in .

Obeying I moved towards the back of the room, my seat like other classes, secluded in the corner. The room set in rows; we were allowed to choose where to sit which surprisingly wasn't very loud. The year 10/grade 9 class chatting and insulting each other as I sat down and thought about nothing, ready to start another " exciting and productive" day of school.

The day itself was nothing of note, all the classes were filled with information I already knew and I was mostly ignored for the day only being stopped to be shoved, punched or called French, even though I was English as shown by my bloody accent, aside from that nothing eventful happened.

The iconic (if you could call it that) part of the day happened on the way home while I was walking through narrow streets and alleyways; I turned a corner to reveal a fist flying to my face and my body suddenly careening backwards to the ground, my head hitting the building behind me causing my senses to disappear in a brief state of shock. I heard the voice of the thing I had been trying to avoid, his pudgy form eventually coming in full view as I laid once again on the ground, this time with blood pouring out of my nose like water from a glass.

"Thought you could get away from me you little shit... oh pip you can't be that stupid, I mean you are on par with that prick Kyle and the whore and all, intellectually on par at least" he said, shrugging.

I then noticed his goons, muscle bound creatures with the brains of a mollusc (also known as approximately 70% of this town.) they held the same burning, undying hatred for me like their leader. They pinned me to the ground before I could even think to struggle, leaving my body open to the wailing and untrained but painful punches of Cartman and his " friends'.

It seemed to last for hours, the pain of having ones entire body punched, kicked and stepped on by a 600lb monster and his body builder goons is none to pleasant. Every attack leaving a sickening and ear-splitting crunch as limbs flew into my body. breaking bones, bruising and bringing a pain that almost sent me to sweet unconsciousness, I could feel and see every attack as it came towards me as if in slow motion, flying like a eagle ready to strike and leaving a stinging pain that was replaced by a worse one somewhere else on my body. Every attack knocked the wind from my body, leaving me unable to scream for assistance. It wasn't until I was close to ejecting bile onto the arses" face that he stopped. Commanding his comrades to follow he left me lying on the ground, my body feeling as cold and numb as the snow covered path beneath me and as useless as an empty shell, dead and ineffective. I must have looked pathetic. With blood oozing from a broken nose and nearly vomiting the contents of a battered and abused stomach, I attempted to lift myself. That was a mistake as my newly gained wounds flared with agony forcing me back to the ground.

It took fifteen minutes for the pain to lessen enough to move. Struggling up and cradling the aforementioned stomach and nose, causing blood to seep through the cracks in-between my fingers and dye the snow below. I staggered and limped down streets, muttering curses of " bloody hell" as I walked, every step feeling like a million and taking as much energy. Ignoring the feeling to slump against a wall and just sleep I continued onwards towards the small flat I called home. Ignoring the odd looks of passerby's, I moved onward, not caring of the throbbing pain anymore just the warm comfort of my home.

I moved onward out of one of the damp alleyways to the stone slab path towards the tall imposing building that I called home, it was one of the largest in town, over twenty stories high holding over one hundred people.

I appalled traversing the stairs towards the twelfth floor, every step causing an unexplainable agony in my abdomen. It was the same anytime I had been beaten and horribly injured. Up and up on the never-ending flight of stone that led towards my warm safety. I believed that I would never make it but I looked with pride as I agonisingly and slowly reached the door to my flat.

Locking the door I quickly grabbed some kitchen roll to stop the blood still pouring from my nose. After the last droplets of thick crimson was consumed and tainted the white sheet, I moved to the front room and fell unceremoniously onto the sofa to drift into a terrifying sleep.