Message In A Bottle
I thought I'd have a go at writing something a bit more serious than what I normally do, just to see if I'm any good, really. So here goes…
I don't own South Park.
"I don't love you, and I never will."
He ignored the words as they bounced around his head for about the hundredth time, and shifted the cardboard box he was carrying carefully into a more comfortable position. Carefully, because the box contained all his worldly goods, not that anybody noticed, or cared. He was all alone in the world…well, South Park, Colorado, to be exact. But this was how he wanted it.
Dawn was only just breaking as he turned down a smart, respectable street and walked past the smart, respectable houses. He continued until he reached a small, sorry looking shack tucked away behind the houses so that no-one would be unfortunate enough to have to look at it. He smiled as he took in the shack's chipped yellow front, the broken basketball hoop and the wreck of a pickup truck sat in the drive. No-one was up yet, he was relieved to see. He walked quickly across the overgrown front lawn and put the box which contained, amongst other things his laptop, mobile phone and ipod just outside the battered front door. He left as quickly and quietly as he had arrived.
He smiled again as he thought about all the pleasure his impoverished friend would get from his abandoned stuff, which was all the things he wanted but had never been able to afford. Still, knowing Kenny as well as he did, he would be just as likely to sell it for some much needed cash.
He wandered a little further down the street, not bothering to concentrate on where he was going, because he already knew. He kicked himself inwardly, wondering why he had to torture himself like this. It wasn't going to help coming back here, he knew that, but he couldn't stop himself. His friends always said he had a masochistic side.
He stopped in front of a house not far from his own, which, like every other home in South Park, was dark and quiet. He stared at it, events from the previous alcohol fuelled night beginning to come back to haunt him. He sighed. He wished desperately for that a moment that he got hangovers like everybody else. It would make everything so much easier to bear, and at least he wouldn't remember hearing those awful words:
"I don't love you, and I never will."
It wasn't just what had been said that hurt so badly, it was the way it was said - so cold and cruel, like he didn't even matter.
It had been the best night of his life, and the worst.
He turned and left quickly, before the tears could come. He stared at his Converses as he walked. Everyone was going to hate him when all this came out, he was certain. I mean, at their engagement party, he thought, shaking his head. Jesus, what was I thinking…
He arrived at Stark's Pond, one of their favourite places when they were younger. He stood gazing at the clear blue water, remembering how they used to skate on it when it froze over. He turned around and looked back at the small town that he had called home for eighteen long, often weird years. Then he pulled an empty bottle from one pocket, and a handwritten, slightly blotchy note from the other. He put the note into the bottle and sealed it, then slid it into his jeans' pocket. He picked some heavy stones from around the edge of the pond and put them into his coat pockets. Then he waded into the almost frozen pond. He never looked back.
They found him floating in the icy pond not long afterwards. They shook their heads as they asked in hushed tones why someone so young and gifted would want to take his own life in that way. Then they found the bottle. The name at the top of the note had been washed away, but otherwise it was legible.
"I'm sorry, but I had to do it. I had no choice. I can't go on in this twisted cycle, loving you, and then hating myself for loving you. I'm so fucking tired.
"I wish things had worked out differently between us, and I hope you don't hate me, although I wouldn't blame you if you did. I fucked up your engagement party – what can I say? I'm a loser. As if you didn't know that already. I'm glad you've found happiness with someone, but obviously I wish that someone was me. But that's never going to happen. You made that clear last night.
"You know, it's funny, but I feel free in a way. Finally, I can tell the world, through this note, who I really am. I can finally say the one thing I tried to deny all these years: I love Stan Marsh. I love you more than a friend, more than a brother, more than life.
"I hope one day you can forgive me.
Kyle."
I know it's a bit sad, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Oh, and please review – thanks!!!
