The Cartman family had always been good at keeping secrets, and Eric was no exception, not when the secret in question was something that could get him ripped on or in trouble. The secret that he had been keeping to himself for as long as he could remember was the first type; though he knew that they wouldn't believe him, Kyle and Stan would rip on him for even suggesting it, the assholes, and who else would he tell? To say that if you wished for a person to come back from the dead it would work. . . He would be deemed a liar, which he already was and wouldn't admit to, or crazy, which his classmates were slowly beginning to think of him as. No, saying that Kenny came back from the dead almost every single day wouldn't make him look very good. Besides, if he told anyone of his actions, he would have to explain why he was doing it. . .

He couldn't remember the very first time that it had happened. He had probably been young, too young to realize that Kenny missing meant that he was dead and not on a trip to somewhere better than the mess of a town that they called home, and he had probably wished for his friend to come back. He liked to think of it that way; Stan and Kyle had always been too wrapped up in with each other to pay any attention to him unless the fourth member of their group was there, and he didn't want to be alone. It made him sound like a pussy—a cry baby, pathetic, lonely, friendless, weak—but it was true. If Kenny wasn't there, he was alone. It was that simple. So, he assumed, he had wished for his friend to come back—maybe on a falling star, maybe in prayer. He didn't know, and he didn't care. He knew that his town was different from how it should be—South Park was abnormal, and even though no one ever said anything about it, most of the kids were aware of it—so when he realized that Kenny was dying and not just leaving him one day, he didn't question it. Why look a gift horse in the mouth?

He wasn't sure why he even did it anymore. Habit, maybe. He didn't like to be ignored, but even after Stan started chugging alcohol down his throat to keep himself happy—the hippie thought that no one knew, Eric was sure, but he had smelt the scent on his mother enough times to recognize it—Kyle paid attention to him, so it definitely wasn't because he would be ignored otherwise. Maybe it was because the group dynamics would be screwed up without Kenny; without a fourth member, there seemed to be a gap, and Eric really didn't want Butters or Tweek back into the group. Maybe it was because he knew that someone had to do it; because they didn't wish Kenny back the first time that it had happened—at least, that was Eric's reasoning behind it—Stan and Kyle didn't seem to ever remember that the boy died dozens of times a month, leaving it up to him. Maybe it was because, once upon a time, Kenny had died for all of them; Eric really only cared about himself and a few select others, most of them being toys that he had long since buried, but still. Maybe it was because Kenny was his best friend, though he doubted that was it; "I hate you, Kinny." There were a lot of maybes in his reasoning, and he didn't care for any of them. It didn't matter though; whatever the reason, he would keep doing it.

He knew that someone had to make a wish for the dead person to come back—it was why no one had seen Pip for months—and he knew—or, rather, he thought he did—that if he died, no one would wish for him to come back, not even his mother, who he was sure would drink and drug herself into bliss until she forgot about him. What he didn't know was that when a group of adults—people who were supposed to help him in life—threw him under a bus, he didn't make it.

Eric Cartman had a blond angel watching out for him, though he would never know it, and he would keep Eric's light lit as a way of silently thanking him for always doing the same for him.