A/N: Fast forward :D
Yay, enjoy :)
(SORRY FOR THE WAIT ;A;)
He stared outside at the clear skies, watching the sun as it rose from the East and fell over the array of buildings set along the small town. He cocked his head curiously, waiting for the sound of the baker's call as he pulled out fresh loaves of bread and began selling them in front of his shop as he always tended to do. He waited for the old woman he'd come to dub as Millie to step out of her home and take the baker up on his offer. He'd bow is hat to him like he always had and they'd go about their day,
The rest of the town was a set routine, each person always looking towards the same destination as they went about their lives. He was similar in that sense.
He hated that his was so unlike all the others.
A boy just shy of twenty years, sitting alone in a dank tower, people-watching and making his own stories up about the subjects that he observed. He watched them as they ran through the streets endlessly in an array of swarms. He watched as they came, staring up at the mighty cathedral that he'd come to call home and hope that maybe, just maybe, they were looking back at him and talking to him. It was the only source of solace he found as he sat in that room all by his lonesome. His imagination had become erratic by the time he was seven, his imaginary friends became who he was, the people he depended the most on.
The archdeacon that had taken him in was older and weary with the coming and going of wars and years. His proud face had grown far more wrinkled, his posture more withered and frail. He became unable to climb the steps to get to Kenny's room anymore, so he'd limited his visitations to only when someone could assist him.
Anymore, his visitor was one of a much fouler disposition. The job had gone over to Eric Cartman, who was studying under the archdeacon himself in order to obtain a place of power over the church. Kenny and he did not fare well together, often arguing but always resulting in Cartman walking out of the room, victorious, whilst Kenny sat alone in his room and thought the day away.
Time spent in the dark had not dispersed the boy's appearance in any fashion. His eyes still shone that bright, curiosity-laced blue under thick locks of golden hair. Cartman often taunted him on the way he appeared, saying that he must be an angel because of his looks. Kenny disdained this above anything that he experienced among the massive bells he now called his friends.
He never considered himself to be an angel. Angels were beautiful and sent for purposes that they already knew. Kenny was a boy trapped in the dark, unaware of his own appearance or that of others aside from the few visitors he received. The world was a faceless mistress to him; He found it impossible to have any sort of mission when he knew not of anything outside his own walls.
As he sat and watched people from his tower, he heard a noise behind him and sighed, turning to find the large glutton, Cartman, coming up from the stairwell.
"Breakfast," he said gruffly.
"Mm," Kenny mused.
"Hey, I don't have to give you anything," he rolled his eyes before stepping over to him and throwing a bowl of porridge into his lap. Kenny caught it abruptly, receiving a few splashes on his orange cloth tunic and frowning at them. Cartman snickered and the blonde rolled his eyes, raising the spoon and taking a small bite, sliding the cereal around in his mouth in silence.
"What a beautiful day," Cartman said, stretching and walking towards the crevice where Kenny sat to watch the world. "The birds are just singing to everyone today," he smiled down on him. "They call out, 'come play! Come play with us!'" He paused, looking at the glaring blonde before smirking a bit. "It's just a shame that you can't oblige them, Kenneth."
"Aren't you supposed to be studying to be a decent man?" Kenny mumbled, poking his cereal with the poorly crafted spoon aimlessly. Cartman scoffed, moving out to the balcony of Kenny's home and staring down on the people.
"Come here, Kenneh," he stated gruffly.
Kenny sighed, holding his breakfast and getting to his feet, walking to stand beside the large man. "What?"
A moment of silence passed between them before Cartman chuckled, "Why do you want to be like them, Kenneh?"
The blonde blinked before shrugging a bit. "They get to live, I guess," he muttered, taking another bite of his porridge.
"Hm," he nodded a bit. "So you may think..." he cocked his head. "But look at them," he gestured. "They run around as though nothing in the world outside of their own is important enough to stand still for."
"You can relate," Kenny muttered under his breath.
Cartman glared for a brief beat before chuckling, "No, Kenneh, I have only the interests of the people in my heart."
"Uh huh."
"The old man is getting ready to pass onto his Father," Cartman stated, looking up at the clouds before back down to the blonde. "I'm going to take over what he's left for us," he gestures to the city. "Poor, misshapen people. Common derelicts that roam our streets. Kenny, this is not a world you want to be part of."
Kenny took in what he said before sighing. "I'd rather be a derelict than a prisoner," he said sadly, watching a group of children playing on the street. "At least...at least they're misshapen with each other..."
"Kenneh, don't speak as such," Cartman snapped. "You are here under the old man's protection. You should feel honored that a wretch like yourself has the chance to see the church at all, let alone live in it."
"If I am a wretch..." Kenny started, looking at him, "Then I don't belong here. If I am this supposed 'angel' then I don't belong," he frowned. "No other angel has been kept locked away in a room their entire life."
Cartman looked at him for a moment before chuckling, "And you don't see all that many of them walking the streets either, now do you?" Kenny's face dropped and he looked at the bowl in his hands sadly. "I do pity you, Kenneh," Cartman spoke again. The blonde looked back at him with sad blue eyes.
"You do?"
"Of course. I would be depressed as well should I be kept from the people I'm supposedly 'protecting'," Cartman sneered before looking back on the people. "They've no idea of you even existing," he said lowly. "They remember you, your parents. But they believed you were killed in the crossfire as they were all those many many...many years ago, hm?" he smiled over at him. Kenny stared back blankly before Cartman grabbed the bowl from his hands and observed it. He let a large dollop of porridge plop off the spoon back into the bowl as he watched, laughing lowly. "So, so lifeless," he said. "Supposedly something of nourishment..." he looked back at him once again. "But what is nourishment to he who never basks in the sun?" He asked. "What is it about you that keeps the archdeacon from tossing you out in the street and letting the mob have its way with you?"
Kenny stared back, shaking his head slowly, "He believes me to be an angel," he whispered miserably.
"Hm," he nodded sharply before tossing the bowl back at him. Kenny fumbled with it before it fell into him, coating him in the thick mass of cereal. He dropped the bowl to the cement under their feet, staring at the mess before Cartman broke into laughter. "Angels have always been considered the pinnacle of grace and everlasting love and innocence," he smirked. "And yet here you are. Alone and unloved, betrayed and forgotten. As I said," he stated, cupping Kenny's chin and pulling his head back up towards his. "I pity you." He threw his face back and began walking away. "I'll bring you dinner tonight, Kenneh. Be sure to read today because the old man won't get off my back about you." He finished in a huff, descending the stairs to the main hall below Kenny's room.
Kenny stared after him before looking back at the mess on his shirt and sighing. He tore the tunic off, throwing it back into his room. Someone would clean it for him eventually...He turned, leaning over the gable of the church and people-watching once more.
Angels didn't belong where he was. It was their job to be with the people, to share their message with the world...
If only he knew just what his message was.
He leaned his chin on his arms, watching the group of kids running around each other. They pushed and shoved each other, yelling out with bouts of laughter as they continued their chase of one another. He saw one little girl twirling around the others in a bright pink skirt, plainly visible to his line of sight where he hovered. She seemed to stop suddenly, shooting her face up towards the blonde. His heart leapt for a moment of joy before she quickly went back to as she was doing, forgetting about the boy in the clouds, of the angel in waiting.
He hated this. He hated being who he was.
He'd still no idea of why he was considered to be an angel to the archdeacon's eyes. The man had told him that when he was four, he'd done something great. But it was nothing more, nothing less. No details, no story. No nothing.
A boy of only four. What could one do that seemed so angelic-like? What could a toddler possibly do to place themselves in the rankings of God?
He shut his eyes and rubbed his temple in frustration. These thoughts plagued him nonstop. He was never given enough of a distraction to keep him from remembering that once, he did have a family. They weren't the happiest of people, but at least they had each other when it came right down to it.
Now what could he look at for comfort?
The man who'd been so kind, but had dwindled from him year by year? The boy who threw food at him and taunted him for his so-called position among everyone? The people who'd not seen his face for fifteen years? Or what of the one that he was expected to look for when he found himself in this kind of mindset? Where was God? Why was He not providing 'His angel' with the guidance and answers he so desperately needed?
Kenny bit his lip and shook his head at himself. It didn't matter. He was stuck. He was just to watch these people day by day and hope that one day, he could join them in life, waiting to meet their Father as opposed to being reminded of Him constantly.
He gritted his teeth in anxiety as he watched the children running back past the church, mere blurs to his vision.
He would find this day. He would make it his own.
A/N: Thanks for R&Ring because I have nothing else to say T_T
Sorry for the waits and all that. I'm busy and such...and lazy ._.
