I Don't really Know what to tell you in this A/N. I've had this story stuck in my head for a rather long time now but I've been too… Hmm what's the word? I dunno frigid maybe to write this down. If you read this without reading the story you will laugh at me for saying that… But I've never really wrote anything like this before. Closest thing to this was the story truth dare double dare kiss love or torture- but that story completely disappeared.

Anyway, you guys probably can't be stuffed reading this Authors note anyway so I'll get on with the story. My friend The-Icon-Girl (Check out her awesome stories) may be the only one who reads this without wanting to kill me… Then again…

No! I absolutely have to grit my teeth and get on with it! Dear reader you have just witnessed a battle that just went on inside my head… For writing this battle down now you know- I am crazy

"I'm sorry Wendy I can't do this"

Her eyes narrowed and she seemed determined "You owe me! Besides- Nobody cares what you say in literature class- they don't take anything seriously from someone like you"

As a child everybody always knew not to cross the line to where I was. It had always been the dirtiest scum bag place in the town, hell maybe even the state, and Eric Cartman had never hesitated to point that out to me. He had always let me believe that he was better than me, that no matter how low he sunk in society, I would still be considered dirt compared to him.

For a while, I believed him. I never let him know that he had convinced me I would never amount to anything, but when he said "You're a poor piece of crap Kenny" his words dug into me like nails on a chalk board and I believed that I was going to be the lowest of lows no matter what he did. Now I know better.

It took me the majority of middle school to overcome my self pity, and frustration. Back then it was me against the world, and I wasn't afraid to test just how low I could sink. I went from one girl to another like they were movies that you would rent at a Video store. I'm not proud of it, but it was my one means of escape.

Although I could never afford the indulgences most kids of my age took for granted, I had always took a certain pride in my personal hygiene. My "Casual good looks", as described by master chick magnet Stan Marsh, have what has stopped me from being a social reject. I know that if I hadn't somehow miraculously gained, if I do say so myself, the looks that makes boys and girls envy me, I wouldn't have been able to fit in as much as I do.

Of course, having gained good DNA made Eric Cartman think no higher of me. In his eyes, I was and would always be somebody, no, more like an object that you could push around and use. Sure we hung out together back in elementary, some people even considered as friends. Bull shit! Friends don't discover their friend's weakness and exploit it every day! To think I thought he was ever a better person than me… Why? Because he had more green pieces of paper… Stupid reason really… I know better now…

I guess this all started two months ago. It was during third period on a Wednesday or Thursday, I can't really remember, but we had our History assignment due the next day. Well, this one was worth half our marks and I hadn't done a thing. After a little persuasion, I got Bebe to do me a massive favour- steal her best friends notes for me.

Now in girl world- this, I'm told, is basically like sending your friendship on a suicide mission. If I knew this at the time, I probably wouldn't have asked… Ok maybe I would have… I don't know, I was pretty desperate, but, even though it was wrong I took a peak at her notes.

I wasn't desperate enough to copy them; I just needed to be put on the right track. It wasn't until lunch that Wendy had found out. To my giant surprise, she wasn't mad. Actually, that should read- she wasn't as angry as I would have expected from Wendy. She just took me aside, and in a low but harsh voice said "You owe me".

I smiled seductively and I can still see her eyes start to flare up, I knew I was pushing her patience "Well then. I don't have money as you may know, so I guess we could figure out a more…. Creative way to pay you back"

"I'm not interested in your creative services Kenny" She snapped up at me, there was quite a significant height difference between us but she could still make a man on the NBL team seem 3 feet tall.

"What do you want then?" I had asked. I hated being in debt to people. It made me feel like my father.

"For a favour.-whatever I ask, whenever I want it."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa hold on a sec, you're telling me that whatever you want I have to give to you, even if it's like, Midnight Ten years from now?"

"Unless you want to be expelled for cheating then yes, you do. And don't worry; it will be in the near future. I just have to plan the timing right"

So that was my problem. To be honest, I hadn't expected anything too bad from Wendy. She was, after all, dux of the school and number one goody two shoes in town. I certainly hadn't expected anything like this.

To think if I only did my work in class this problem could have been avoided. But I didn't and it wasn't. So now we come to about six hours ago, the start of tenth grade Literature class.

Now my literature teacher is not what you would call "Normal". She drapes her bone thin shoulders in colourful shawls and encourages us when we write to "Let you're souls spill out unto the pages and let your pens guide your hearts song"

Most of us consider her lesson a bludge lesson- she doesn't check our work because she finds that it "May make a youths writing frigid if unwelcome eyes wish to spy the private stories yearning to grow" she also doesn't stop us talking, "If one does not share ones heart's content with the ones they wish to share with, how can it open up its doors?" Personally I think she drank way to much chai tea.

So our assignment was oral and she said we could talk about anything the heart yearned to throw at the restricting walls of society. Thank God this is South Park. Most principles would check up on teacher's lessons plans, or maybe read their resumes before hiring.

It was due 6 hours ago, just before the bell rang Wendy came up to me, her eyes were serious and she was rather rough when she took me to one side. "What are you planning to say for our oral?"

I shrugged, restraining the urge to snicker at the word 'Oral' used by Wendy Testaburger "I dunno… Probably just improvise… Why?"

She didn't answer, just swung her backpack off one shoulder and dug a piece of paper out of it. Handing it to me she said "This is what you're going to read- and you're going to look straight at Cartman when you read it aloud"

I skimmed briefly over the words and realized she was sending him an encrypted message… An encrypted love message.

I looked up and only then I realized she was blushing. This is we're we started off at.

"I'm sorry Wendy I can't do this"

Her eyes narrowed and she seemed determined "You owe me! Besides- Nobody cares what you say in literature class- they don't take anything seriously from someone like you"

Someone like you. This was the first time in my life I had ever been tempted to hit a girl. I'm sure she didn't mean it to come out that way, but it did and there was no taking it back. I wanted to shove the piece of paper back into her hands and tell her where she should stick it but I couldn't.

Someone like you. If I was expelled from school there would be no way I would be able to prove I was more than that. I had to do this. I may not be the smartest kid in school but damnit at least I try harder than most of the spoiled bastards in this place.

I was fuming, barely listening to a word Miss Valmont was saying. The only word that seemed to seek through was "Volunteers?" I shot my hand right up. I had to do this. I had to get it over with.

Eric Cartman: Third row, corner seat- heres to you, you fat fuck. He's not listening. He's cracking some joke about me with that disgusting smirk he wears. I'm going to show you I'm better than this filth sitting before me. I'll make him listen.

"Miss Valmont said to share our souls so I will." I say through gritted teeth, addressing the class.

"You're rude, You're ignorant, You judge before you know

Your heart is as cold as the ice and the snow.

I've grown up around you we're different kinds.

You bitch you moan you complain when you have everything you could ever need.

I'm the neediest person in this world right now, because I need you.

We're different you and I, but we share some aspects the same.

If I said that to your face you'd probably just laugh it up in mine.

I hate you, I love you, I need you more than food and water.

You couldn't care less about people worse off than you.

You despise others that try to be your friend.

Truth is- you may not need me, you may not want me, you may not care about me

But I need you I want you and I care about you"

Miss Valmont is the only one to applaud, I don't think anybody else was really paying attention, and if they were I think they think I'm high.

Wendy is looking out the window, her face is the cololur of beetroot, even though nobody knows it was her that wrote it.

I know Eric Cartman was paying attention. His mouth is so wide open its like one of those cartoons or animes where they exaggerate surprise by making the characters bottom jaw hit the floor. He knows it was for him and I smirk, making a point to look over at Wendy, he does to.

I take a seat "Bravo Mr. McCormick bravo! A wonderful outlook on the mass production companies of society, how they control us but don't care for us, how we despise them but without them we are nothing. BRAVO!"

Class ended 5 hours ago. I was sitting in my room flicking through a play boy when he came in. He never knocks. Just expects that you want him there. Worse thing about it is he comes through the window. Since I'm in a one story house, this isn't hard.

I didn't hear him come in; I don't know how I didn't. With the amount of weight he lumbers around with him it's a wonder how he's been doing this for years.

Of course it's a surprise- one minute I'm peacefully looking at the curvy body of Miss Texas, the next a hand is against my mouth, and I feel body heat behind me. Heavy breathing and the smell of a perspiring body lingers from behind. I do the first thing that comes to mind, and shoot my arms up to the hand around my mouth. I try to object, my voice coming out muffled, like it usually does when I have my parka hood up, but since I'm at home I usually leave it down.

I feel a hot breath against my neck and a voice lingers by my ear "I never thought… Trash like you could write love poems"

I know that voice, I don't have to think hard to know where it comes from either. A horrible truth suddenly dawns on me and it makes the pit of my stomach feel like its on a rollercoaster. Cartman doesn't know that Wendy wrote the poem for him. He doesn't know I was merely a messenger. I can't tell him either, because at the moment he's preventing anything to slip out. Before I can tell him anything about the situation, he will act without thinking.

I have to do something. But I can't, I feel so powerless.

"Wendy…" He whispers in my ear, and I feel a rush of hope.

"Trash can't write from the heart, so you hired a messenger to do your job" The hopeful feelings gone. He has it all mixed up. I can't explain a thing to him. "You should have just told me earlier Kenny… We could have had fun like we're about to have a lot sooner than now"

…………………… Don't forget to flame………………..