'No good…no one loves you…you're impure…not even Stan would want you…' that evil thought explored every place in my mind. Where did everything go wrong? All I wanted is to be perfect for him. Now I'll never be that. And I can still remember that night…the night where I became vile.

–Flashback-

I was just walking to his house…the smell of their drunken breath still haunts me. I had everything planned for tonight…the night I confessed to him. As I walked alone down the street under the flickering head lights wondering if I should of accepted him walking down to his house. Would it be different if Stan was there? Their sick, drunken voices, I knew they parted hard but I guess a little too hard tonight…

"Kaaahhhlll! Wa-hiccup-wait up!" I regret now stopping…I see the three figures I called my friends running all wobbly towards me. I thought they would fall and I would have my laugh for tonight but they ended up tackling me, the aroma of drugs, sex, beer, and cigarettes. "C'mon guys get off!" I said playfully but I soon saw a dark glare in their intoxicated eyes. They started laughing but they started dragging me out from the light into the grass.

"Let go Kenny!" but very quick and sudden a Burnett ties a gag around my mouth. "Clyde, do something useful and help Craig holding down his arms and legs…" I felt the grip of the raven haired and Burnett squeezing and pulling my limbs. I felt myself screaming but no noise ever came out. The pain…I can't even describe it as Kenny, then Clyde, and finally Craig took turns over and over again pushing harder and harder.

I yelled louder and louder, even the insults they told me to say while in the gag. Their dirty mouths going everywhere, their cold slimy tongue slid everywhere… I knew it was their cum but I also thought it was blood dripping off of me…the smell, the abuse; I'm not clean anymore…

-End-

*Slice*

The crimson blood dripped slowly in a pace down to the green carpet. 'He doesn't want you..

*slice*

You're what they called you a slut. Nothing more, nothing less. Every time the sharpened blade cut and penetrated me wrist, a small tear flowed down my imperfect face. 'Not even the ugliest of demons in hell would want to even face you…Stan will never be yours…' More and more open wounds showed all over my arm.

Out of the blood from under me I wrote a note…something that they could possibly understand my actions taken. 'Cry alone…No more pain…I've made the change, I won't see you tonight…Cry alone…I loved you…please forgive me…I'm not perfect for you…I can never be yours Stan…' Blood stained all my coat or what's left of it.

"I love you Stan…good-bye…I'm sorry that I'm not the pure one that you wanted…" At Every word flow of tears came rushing out because of those words and the self inflicted pain everywhere on my arm. I held the razor closer to my skin. The more pressure the deeper it goes…Suddenly I feel cold arms around my waist.

I keep my head down letting the tears and blood to drip. "Kyle…Don't…" I know that voice…I could never forget that angelic voice. I could feel his tears soaking through my shirt as he held me closer. "Stan…I'm not clean…" I could feel one arm loosen and held my blood oozing one. He held out a bandage as he wrapped it around it making it sting.

When I dropped the blood stained blade, the only noise came from us weeping… "No Kyle you're wrong…you are perfect…" After hearing those few simply words come out of his real perfect mouth for once…I felt something else from pain, loneliness, sorrow, depression, and fear. For once in all my life I felt…I felt someone actually cared for my existence.