Notes:

[f/n]= first name

P.O.V= Point of View

LARP-ing is the process of live action role play.

If you are a boy, please disregard the use of her or she. It's just hard to write this story from Kenny's point of view without settling on a gender.

*Kenny's P.O.V*

I finger the stray thread hanging loose from [f/n]'s blanket, mind lost in thought. Ever since [f/n] died, I have been locking myself away in her bedroom. [f/n] may be gone, but this room reminds me that she used to exist. But most of all, I'm addicted to her scent that still lingers on her bed and clothes, even though she is gone.

I grab [f/n]'s pillow and bury my face in it, taking a big whiff of her scent. How much longer till the scent, too, is gone?

I'm going to be real screwed if anyone finds me in her bedroom like this. But who cares? Nothing really matters anymore.

I feel my stomach grumble yet again, but ignore it. I can die of starvation for all I care. But when I feel the intense need to piss, I begrudgingly remove myself from the warmth of [f/n]'s bed. I'll be damned before I soil this bedroom, the only sanctuary I have left.

I pass a picture frame on my way to the window, the frame in [f/n]' favorite color. I know the picture all too well: it is a picture of me and her when we were kids. The picture features a mini [f/n], chocolate frosting coating her face as she smears it on me by kissing my cheek. She had thrown a little party for me, once she had learned it was my birthday. [f/n] was always the one who made my birthdays fun.

I feel the tremors take hold of me again as the atmosphere of the world seems to compress me. I tear my eyes away from the photo, tears stinging my eyes. Breath hitching, I try to keep my calm as I climb out the window. I try to distract my mind from thinking about her ([f/n]'s gone, never coming back), instead focusing on something physical. I really need to piss.

*Reader's P.O.V*

Floating. That is the feeling I have, as if I am floating along in a dreamy state. I must be sleeping. Still, how long has it been? I feel like I need to wake up now, I have been asleep for too long. But I feel comfortable, so I keep on sleeping instead of getting up.

What was it that I need to wake up for, anyways? I can't remember, so it must not be that important. Even so, I can't help my mind from trying to remember what it is that I am forgetting. Suddenly an image of messy blonde hair, light blue eyes, and a familiar orange parka flashes through my mind. That's right, Kenny! I'm supposed to hang out with Kenny!

He'll be pissed if I keep him waiting. Slowly, I force my eyes to open and adjust to waking up. Wait...what? I quickly scramble up, finding myself lying right in the middle of the road. What the fuck am I doing sleeping on the road? I dash to the sidewalk, before any cars come.

Man, I could've been run over! What happened to me? I search around for someone to ask about what happened, when I notice Cartman, Stan, and Kyle huddled together. Immediately I notice that something is off with all three of them.

For one, Cartman doesn't have the usual cocky, asshole atmosphere about him. Instead, he seems kind of subdued, which means something seriously bad must have happened. Stan is dressed like a goth, I wonder if he and Wendy broke up again. Kyle has dark bags under his eyes, a telltale sign that he hasn't been sleeping well.

"Guys, what's up? Can you tell me what the hell happened?" I ask after approaching them, none of them sparing a glance at me. They don't answer me, so I start to feel annoyed. "Hey, guys! What's going on?" I ask a little louder. Still no response whatsoever. Okay, now I'm pissed.

Why are they ignoring me? This is just like that time everyone ignored Cartman, to the point that Cartman thought he was a ghost. Did I somehow do something that pissed everyone off?

"Guys, knock it off!" I angrily yell and reach out to grab Stan's shoulder. My entire hand disappears, as if it went inside of Stan. I scream and yank my hand back with a lot of force. I quickly inspect my hand to see what damage was done, only to find that my hand is perfectly normal. Shaking, I look at Stan, who is acting like nothing happened.

"Stan?" I whisper, fear making my voice tremble. "Stan? Stan!" I scream, extremely desperate for him to say something, anything. He doesn't answer. I feel panic clench my heart. I start waving my arms around and walk in a circle around them. "Stop ignoring me, please!" I sob.

Then I see it. What the guys are huddling over. A frame with my picture rests near the sidewalk, a bunch of flowers surrounding it. The kind of decoration one would set up after the death of someone because of a car accident. I start to feel nauseous when Stan finally speaks up.

"Has it really been only a week? It just feels like...it has been longer than that," he says with a downcast look.

"I know what you mean," Kyle tiredly agrees. "Things just haven't been the same since [f/n] died, time seems screwed up." Died. Died. The word echoes repeatedly in my head.

"Has anyone seen Kenny lately? That poor bastard's been hiding himself ever since," Cartman asks, the bite in his voice lacking its usual zeal.

"Right here…" I mutter, my breath feeling like it's being sucked out of me. Something snaps inside and my heads jolts up. "I'm right here!" I scream louder than ever before. The intensity of the scream rips at my throat, but I keep screaming. "I'm right here! I'm right here! Notice me! Please," I finally stop screaming and instead collapse to my knees, "notice me." But of course, they don't, and I am left to cry there as if I am all alone.

Suddenly, I just can't stand being there anymore. Surrounded by people who don't see me anymore. Everything is flying past me as I am running to my house, desperate for solitude and time to comprehend what the hell has happened to my life. Too scared to run into anyone, I don't bother using the door and instead climb through my window.

I just stand there, in the middle of my room, as I repeat the scenario over and over in my mind. I'm dead, the resounding conclusion, slowly breaks away everything in me till I feel hollow. Out of the corner of my eye I notice my unfinished math homework. Homework that will never be finished now. Not that it matters, not that any of my efforts in school ever mattered now that I'm dead without putting anything of what I learned to use. I feel unreasonable anger directed towards the homework, and kick at it angrily.

"Dammit, God dammit!" I shout as I kick the homework multiple times for good measure. I collapse to the ground, no longer able to handle it all. I wrap my arms around my knees and bury my face in my arms. At least I don't pass through my own body.

I sit there for a long time, tears dripping down my face. How is a ghost able to cry? But now I do notice something different about my body: I always feel cold. So very cold…

And now I remember everything that happened: the semi, Kenny, the excruciating pain...

The sound of rustling is what snaps me out of it. Someone is coming through my window! I stare at the window, unable to move, as I watch Kenny lift himself through it. His blue eyes meet my wide eyes, and time seems to have stilled, frozen in this moment. Kenny's eyes widen, disbelief shining in them.

"[f/n]?" he whispers, looking more fragile than I have ever seen him before.

He can see me! Relief floods through me as I slowly stand up. "Kenny!" I cry out to him. Suddenly, he dashes towards me, arms outstretched. I panic and raise my arms in an attempt to stop him. He is going to pass right through me! I don't think I have it in me to face that reality. "No, wait, Kenny stop-"

I'm interrupted when I feel his body collide with mine with so much force that we are knocked to the floor. He is now pressing me against the floor, burying his face into the crook of my neck. Unbelievingly, I lift my hand to grip the back of his parka. I can feel him. He feels so warm compared to my ice cold body. Tears flood along with relief as I lift my other hand to grip his back, holding on to him with all my might.

We stay in that position for a while till I feel him mumble into my neck. "Why?"

"Why what?" I croak out, voice still raw from tears.

He lifts himself to stare into my eyes, surprising me with the frustration reflected in them. "Why would you throw away your life just to save me?"

I stare at him for a moment, stunned. A memory stirs inside me, one from childhood. It was when everyone had started LARP-ing: humans vs. elves, all fighting for a stupid stick. And oh god, Kenny, he...he fricken dressed up like a kawaii princess! The worst part of it all is that he looked gorgeous in the Zelda dress to boot.

When I first saw him in it, I didn't recognize him. When I found out it was him, I made fun of him like there was no tomorrow. But he just struck a pose and said "You are just jealous I look so sexy."

Me, I dressed up as a [fighter/mage/thief/jew], looking very boyish compared to Kenny. I smirked at him. "Well good luck getting any girls when you look like one."

He returned my smirk. Surprising me, he wrapped his arms around my neck, bringing his face close to mine. "Oh, I don't know...I think I'd be cool with a little...girl on girl action," he murmured seductively.

"Knock it off!" I yelled at him, embarrassed by such close contact. I pushed him away from me. "The princess shouldn't fool around with commoners, you know."

"But you're not a commoner! You're my knight in shining armor! Every princess needs a hero after all."

I rolled my eyes but granted at him a smile. If that was the case…

I got down on one knee and took "Princess" Kenny's hand in my own. "From this day onwards I vow to dedicate my life to protect Princess Kenny from any harm."

"Do I get a kiss to seal the deal?" I smacked him across the head. Through the whole game Kenny managed to get kidnapped or put in danger, but at the same time I always saved him.

I smile fondly at the memory. "Remember? I promised to always protect you back when we were kids."

Kenny, however, is not satisfied with my answer. Instead he frowns and repositions himself so he is sitting. I follow suit and sit up, already missing his contact.

"I don't need you to protect me!" he says in a firm tone. I stare at him incredulously.

"If I didn't protect you when that semi came you would have died!" I argued back.

"It wouldn't have mattered!" he replied, the retort feeling like a slap to the face. I feel tears sting my eyes once again.

"How can you say that? It matters a lot to me! If you died, I-I don't even know…" I trail off, tears making me incapable of speaking. I died to protect him! Doesn't that make him understand how important he is to me?

He grabs my shoulders, forcing me to look him in the eyes. "No, [f/n], you don't understand! It wouldn't have mattered because...I can't die."

What? I can only stare at him in confusion. What makes him think he can't die? "Um, how do you even know you can't die?"

He lets go of my shoulders and avoids eye contact. "Because I have died multiple times, only to be revived the next day. Just nobody remembers me dying."

I know Kenny is a lot of things, but he was never a liar (at least not to me anyways). But still, what he is saying is a lot to take in. "I don't know Kenny, it's hard to believe. I'm not saying you are lying, but maybe you are confused. Like maybe you just have dreams that you died?"

He groans in frustration. But then I see a shift in attitude, like he came up with an idea.

"Maybe...maybe it'll be different. Because you are a ghost," he says, mostly talking to himself.

"Kenny, what are you-"

"Besides, if not, you won't remember. It can't hurt to try." I watch him in confusion as he reaches into his pocket. My blood runs cold when he pulls out a pistol.

"No!" I scream, trying to reach out to him. "Stop don't-"

The loud shot reverberates around my room, silencing all my pleas into nothingness.

To Be Continued