Nothing Seemed To Turn Out Right
A South Park Fanfiction by DizzyAlice

Chapter One: There's No One Who Imagines Like You

A/N: Please note that I am still working on Play Crack the Sky as my main fic right now. I just got this idea and I felt the need to roll with it so I did, and I finished a chapter so I figured what the hell, I'll post it.
Story will be K-squared, story will be narrated by Kyle.
Um, enjoy, I guess. And please review :3


There's a cemetery deep below the sea, there the space is reserved for fools like me. Tried to kill myself at least a dozen times, but nothing seemed to turn out right. There's no one who imagines like you, so convinced there's somewhere that we go to. Not a first-class trip to the abyss. Tell me, do you still feel this? I will face the one who made my disgusting heart from a lump of clay. Should he ask what got me through, if he asks me it was you.
--Cemetery by Say Anything


It's 2:57 in the morning. It's Tuesday, and it's summer.

Let me ask you something.

If you were out driving at 2:57 on a Tuesday morning in the summer, and you came to a bridge, and you saw a kid standing on the wrong side of the railing, staring at the black water like he wanted nothing more than for it to rise up and swallow him whole, would you stop? Would you get out of your car and try to help him? Would you ask him what was wrong?

Unless you're completely heartless you probably just answered yes to all those questions. But let's face it. If you were actually there, you wouldn't stop. You'd keep driving like you didn't see a goddamn thing.

Well, let me tell you something. That's okay. The kid doesn't want you to stop.

I don't want your fucking sympathy.

I just want to die in peace with no one trying to talk me out of it. I made this choice, I know what I'm doing, so leave me the hell alone.

Maybe I'm just bitter because 23 minutes of gathering the courage to let go, let myself fall through the emptiness into the unknown, and not a single car that's gone by has so much as slowed.

Oh well. Just further proves my point.

No one fucking cares about me.

I don't care that no one cares about me, not like most people would. In fact, it only makes things easier for me. Eliminates almost all the guilt I would feel about doing this otherwise. I'm not gonna make anyone sad for more than a few days by leaving.

As if on cue, my phone rings. I know immediately who it is. He has some weird psychic thing and always manages to call me when I need him most, even if it's at 2:58 on a Tuesday morning in the summer.

I cling to the bridge support, the only thing holding me up here in the realm of the living instead of down there in the dark abyss, with one arm. I use the other to fish in my pocket until I find my phone, flip it open, and hold it to my ear.

I don't say anything.

"Kyle?" he asks quietly. "I didn't expect you to answer. What are you still doing up?"

"I could ask you the same question," I mumble in an empty voice.

"I couldn't sleep."

I pause. I say, "Me either."

"Hey." I wait. "Are you okay?"

Yes, I'm great, in fact, absolutely fucking wonderful. Never been better.

But I don't say this. Not even sarcastically, like I'm thinking it.

Instead I say, "Yeah. I'm okay."

"Okay."

It's quiet, and over the howling wind in my ears, I listen to him breathing. I picture him lying on his mattress on the floor, the comforter half falling off to reveal his thin, bare torso.

"Ken?" I ask, the words leaping to my mouth before my brain gives them permission to.

"Yeah?"

I hesitate, and when I do speak again, my voice is small. "If I died, would you miss me?"

He sighs, and for a minute I swear I can feel his breath blowing hot and sweet with liquor and nicotine into my ear. "Of course I'd fucking miss you, Ky, don't be a moron."

"You're the only one."

"That's not true."

"Oh yeah? Name one other person that would care more than 'Oh, what a pity' if I died right now."

He's quiet. He's thinking. "Your family," he says at last.

"They don't count. They're my family, they're required to care."

"Kyle, plenty of people would care."

"Yeah? Then why can't you think of any?"

He doesn't answer, and I know I've won. Another deeper silence forms, until he finally breaks it with, "I care. Isn't that enough?"

"No," I admit quietly. "Not anymore."

I'm not sure if he heard me. But I'm not going to say it again.

"Would you miss me? Y'know, if I died?" he asks in return. His tone is joking, but I know he wants a real answer.

"I always miss you," I promise. "I miss you even when you're here. I miss you right now."

Something in me clicks. Snaps shut. A door labeled "closure." And I know it's over. It's time for me to go.

I tell him that. Well, not entirely. I say, "I gotta go."

"Okay. Kyle?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't do anything stupid."

"Okay."

"'Night, kid."

"Bye, Kenny."

He hangs up, and the phone in my ear goes into a dead silence.

My arm loosens on the support, and my weight and balance and gravity is pulling me forward, and finally I let go.

I'm falling like flying, and time stops.

And still I fall.

The air rushes around me and I feel suspended, stuck, supported by the nothing that is all around me. I catch a glimpse of my watch. It's 3:07 on a Tuesday morning in the summer, and death is rushing up to meet me, caress me with his icy-cold embrace. I have no regrets.

My body hits the water with a noise like a gunshot.

My eyes fly open.

The numbers on the clock on my bedside table change from 3:07 to 3:08.


A/N: Because I know at least one person's gonna ask, the last two lines are my non-cliche way of saying "And then I woke up." -_-
Please review ^_^