A/N = So I have not written anything in over a year. And I have never written a Southpark Fanfiction, but here it is, a little Kenny drabble. I would adore feedback and criticism, since I am looking to getting back into writing. And yes, so enjoy~ ^-^
Kenny's POV
I couldn't breathe. Maybe it was the steam from the shower, the panic I was feeling, or maybe I was just having another heart attack.
I squeezed my eyes shut, sinking to my knees, barely noticing the scalding hot water transfer from my chest to my head.
I gripped my heart, the beat of it reassuring me. An ever steady thump.
I wasn't dead. Not this time.
Not right now, I wasn't dead right now.
I took deep breaths, I wasn't dead right now.
I laid my forehead against the shower tiles, letting it's chill settle through me and calm me down.
No matter what anyone thought, dying was not fun.
If there was a God, he had a fucking sick sense of humor.
I breathlessly chuckled to myself, how many times had I died? Hundreds. Maybe Thousands of time.
Almost every day.
I let out a dry sob. It was exhausting, it was terrifying.
Never knowing when I would next be torn from my body.
Every single time, it was like having your skin peeled off, or more like being peeled out of your skin.
Every single time, I wished I could just black out, but no.
I clutched my head, tugging uselessly at my hair. Why me?
What had I ever done to deserve this?
All this death… over and over.
All this pain… over and over.
And what did my friends do? They cursed whoever was responsible and moved the fuck on like nothing ever happened.
Did they even care?
Did it even matter?
Squeezing my eyes shut again, I wondered, would this be my life forever?
I never ending circle of death.
Every time I woke up, I was disappointed.
Why send me back?
Should I go or should I stay. It'd be easy if they gave me the choice.
But no, I was destined for this. To die over and over, and to remember every single time like the first.
I even remembered being a zombie. That insatiable hunger still haunts me.
I turned off the water and sat back, feeling the air start to chill if only slightly.
If I sat here for much longer in this rapidly chilling air, I'd get pneumonia.
Not that it really mattered.
If I died from that, I'd just come back again.
And again, and again, until His sick desires were satisfied.
What a fucking life.