Title: Thirteen Reasons Why Kenny McCormick Died (Permanently)
Rating: M for character death, cursing, and mentioned (not explicit!) sexual scenes.
Disclaimer: This fic is inspired by Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher. I obviously don't own it! Also, I used South Park characters (and mentioned events). I don't own it, or anything really. It's not even my original idea to do this! Maybe with Kenny "as" Hannah, and Lizzy "as" Clay... Otherwise nothing... So yeah. I own nothing.
Summary: "...And that's not true at all. Everyone's got the wrong idea of me... I'm not as slutty as people make me out to be... I was so afraid if I did anything sexual at all, everyone would find out and it would prove further that I am indeed a manwhore..." Kenny x Lizzy, Lizzy's POV. Hinted Stendy. Character death. "Inspired by Thirteen Reasons Why".
Ship: Does Kenny x Lizzy have a ship name?! No? Um...Kenzy. Boom. Done.
Notes: If you have not read Thirteen Reasons Why, it's basically about a girl that commits suicide and sends out tapes to (twelve) people, telling them that if they got these tapes they're a reason why she killed herself and she explains why. This fic will have distinguishable differences from the original because this should not be a clone with different names. Well, the beginning of the tapes are relatively close, but the stories and stuff are quite different. Also, in this fanfic Kyle isn't one of the "thirteen reasons why". He didn't seem like the type to do any of the things the characters in TRW did. Next, I'm making Lizzy's last name Morton because she has no canon last name, and "Mort" in French means "death". Lastly, Kenny is in bold and everyone else is normal.
One
Kenny McCormick has been dead for three weeks now. No one knows how, by whom, or why. Only when. His death took place on a Sunday, and that next Monday came the announcement over the intercom by our dear counselor, Mr. Mackey.
"Good morning, students," he seemed to be in complete shock. "Your dear classmate Kenneth McCormick is dead, mkay? He um… He died last night, mkay. His funeral will be held next Sunday, mkay?"
Mr. Mackey didn't say how he died. Perhaps he didn't know- or want to know. But I did. I wanted to know if he caught on fire, shot himself, got impaled by a flagpole… But even then, those deaths never got announced. Everyone else seemed to forget, or he came back soon enough. But his death has never been announced over the intercom. Not even the time he died of muscular dystrophy. He always came back. Why is now different?
I was heartbroken, sure, but I couldn't show it. None of the girls were allowed to acknowledge Kenny, nevermind mourn his death. However, I don't know why I cared so much if I broke those rules; I broke the first rule by falling for him.
All day, everyone- even those asshole teachers- speculated over what killed Kenny McCormick. It was always death by STD, death by aids, death by stabbing by "customer"... Sometimes it was by impalement, others by truck... Nonetheless, all these guesses made me sick to my stomach, so I made no guesses. The thought of someone killing Kenny made my heart ache.
After that day, no one talked about Kenny's death. I really wanted to take a week off, but my dad wouldn't let me. He barely let me attend his funeral (which had a surprisingly large turnout, even his three old friends came). He told me school was more important than any boy.
Especially that poor boy. He wasn't husband material anyway.
So I grieved privately for three weeks. I was starting to move on, when one day I arrived home to a taped up shoebox on my doorstep. It was addressed to me, which surprised me the most. So I took the box up to my room and opened it. I saw seven cassette tapes numbered in blue sharpie. Who would send me seven cassette tapes? No one uses these anymore!
Well, I think my dad still has a stereo that still uses cassette tapes. I asked him if he still had that stereo, and he asked me why I needed it.
"I need it for a friend's school project. My friend Lola wrote a report on an event that happened in the 90's, and her teacher is giving extra credit if she uses a cassette tape to tell the class."
My dad accepted it and led me to his bedroom closet. He retrieved the stereo, which had been collecting dust for many years, and gave it to me. I grabbed its handle and ran to my room. I thanked my dad and told him I loved him. He said he loved me too. I popped in the first tape, which was entitled "1", side A. I pressed play. I heard someone clearing his throat.
"Hello, boys and girls. Kenneth McCormick here, live and in stereo."
Kenny? Was this some sort of cruel joke?
"No return engagements, no encore, and, this time, absolutely no requests. I hope you're ready, because I'm about to tell you the story of my life. More specifically, why my life ended permanently this time."
So Kenny's death was, in fact, suicide, if he's going to tell us about his most recent death?! Or did he know someone was going to kill him?!
"And, if you're listening to these tapes, you're one of the reasons why."
What?! Suicide?! No! What did I do to you, Kenny?! How did I hurt you?!
"I'm not saying with tape brings you into the story. But fear not; if you received this lovely little box, your name will pop up. I promise."
Is that supposed to comfort me?!
"Now, why would a dead guy lie? Hey, that sounds like a joke! Why would a dead guy lie? Answer: Because he can't stand up! Haha! Go ahead. Laugh. Oh well, I thought it was funny."
What is this? Nightmare in South Park 2: Kenny's Revenge?!
"The rules are pretty simple; there are only two. Number one: you listen. Number two: you pass it on. Hopefully neither one will be easy for you."
Hearing your voice isn't easy for me, Kenny!
"When you're done listening to all thirteen sides- because there are thirteen sides to every story- rewind the tapes, put them back in the box, and pass them on to whoever follows your little tale. And you, lucky number thirteen, well you can take these tapes straight to fucking hell. Depending on your religion, maybe I'll see you there."
Am I lucky number thirteen?
"In case you're tempted to, oh, I don't know, break the rules, understand that I did make a copy of these tapes. Those tapes will be released in a very public manner if this package doesn't make it through all of you. This was not a spur-of-the-moment decision."
Obviously. But why, Kenny? That's pretty evil, even for you.
"Don't take me for granted, again. You are being watched."
I, Lizzy Bands, have never once taken you, Kenneth McCormick, for granted. It isn't fair to tell me that. But… Who's watching me? You? Whoever will release the copies in a very public manner?
"Oh, I almost forgot. If you're on my list, you should have received a map."
Are you talking about that map that was drawn, crudely, in pen, on a napkin? That came in an envelope that read, in the same pen, "Keep this- you'll use it later."? If that's the case, yes, I did keep it. And I may-or-may-not-have used it to wipe my mouth the day I got it. That was the Friday before Kenny died- well, committed suicide.
"Throughout the tapes, I'll be mentioning several spots around our lovely little town for you to visit. I can't force you to go there, but if you'd like a little more insight, then, head for the stars. Or, if you'd like, throw the map away and I'll never know."
Kenny, I'm not using this makeshift map. I know my way around town, but even if I didn't, I still wouldn't use it. It's unacceptably terrible. You could have at least used paper. Come on, Kenny.
"Or, maybe I will. I'm not exactly sure how this whole permanently dead thing works. Who knows? Maybe I'm standing right behind you… Right now."
Dude, that's not an okay thing to tell us.
"I'm sorry; that wasn't fair."
Obviously.
"Ready, Ms. Warner?"
Who?
"All right. So, for those of you who don't know, Tammy Warner was my first love."
Oh. That skank. I don't like her. She knows her way around a dick pretty well. She got farther with Kenny than me, and they weren't even dating.
"Weren't you, Tammy? Sure, you're a grade older than me, and you were a little obsessed with the Jonas Brothers when we dated but… I still thought we could've, been something. I mean I asked to out to go to a Jonas Brothers concert, and it was really great because afterwards she gave me a blowjob."
Slut. Tammy, not Kenny.
"I'll admit it. I, Kenneth McCormick, the class man-whore, received a blowjob. And that was back in forth grade."
Well if you would have let me, you could have gotten one whenever you wanted in tenth!
"But… The only thing that could ruin the mood is an STD of some sort."
What.
"And, in Tammy's case, she had syphilis. And, of course, I got syphilis as well. The one thing I don't understand is how Tammy survived! She's living with syphilis right now!"
And you're telling us about her personal issues for what? To humiliate her? To punish her? This isn't fair, Kenny. You aren't acting yourself.
"And she's had it since… Fourth, fifth grade, so thats… Oh man… Well, if I'm in tenth grade now, and it was in fourth grade- about six years. She's lived with syphilis for about six years!"
He took a deep breath.
"I get it, and I die within a week."
He breathes out.
"Tammy, I don't, blame you for me dying in a week. I blame you for not telling me. You couldn't have told me? Why didn't you tell me? Ugh… And then I came back and you thankfully remembered our date, thank the Lord. I was worried you'd forget because that's why I died. But… The troubling thing is… You kinda… Just, looked at me when I suggested we go out on another date. Perhaps to Stark's Pond, maybe… Maybe go City Wok. Your choice."
You never asked me out on an actual date. We only hung out. Why didn't you ask me out?!
"But you, Tammy Warner, you just looked at me like I was crazy for wanted a second date with you. What? Am I not good enough for you? Do you just not date? What? What? Seriously? What? What is that?"
Kenny, why are you asking so many questions that can't be answered? Stop it! Let it go! Just… Come back here and love me.
"And of course, since I was only in fourth grade I had asked her out… Probably four more times. Twice around her friends and twice alone. She almost called the cops on me, by the way. But… I wanted to date her. Tammy, you didn't give me a chance; you didn't give me anything. You kinda just brushed me to the side. And, you know when you do that to a guy, it does a number on his self esteem."
So you blame her for rejecting you like, five times? Take a hint much, Kenny?
"Okay, it would have been better had you just said, 'Ken, Kenny, I am not interested in dating; I'm just interested in giving blowjobs." Now had you told me that, or, whatever you reason was, I would have lived with that, or, "Ken, I really don't like you like that." You just rejected me over, and over, and over, and over again."
Again, not her fault you were obsessive.
"But, the funny thing was, despite all those times you turned me down, there was, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, came these rumors that I… Was… Eating you out. I guess you spread rumors that I did very sexual things to you. By the way, guys, what have you heard? Tell me right now, what did you hear? I might be standing behind you, remember? Tell me."
"I heard you ate her out and fondled her breasts. Maybe even fucked her," I whispered breathlessly.
"Did you hear how I licked her out while I was fondled her breasts? What did you hear? Because that never happened. I'm not a manwhore! I, the most I've ever done with a girl is a blowjob, and after that she didn't even want to date me. Tammy, that makes you sound like a slut."
At least he realized she was.
"Oh my god. You know what? Fuck you, Tammy. Fuck. You."
The tape ended there. Now I'm terrified of what he has to say about me. What did I do to you, Kenny?!