Chapter 2

Dear Journal,

What the hell? Ms. Garrison has a new boyfriend, and this one isn't as weird as Mr. Slave was. This guy's name is Richard Dawkins, and he apparently wrote a book called "The God Delusion"...and is an Atheist. Weird. He did seem pretty smart, though, Ms. Garrison was all rude the whole time...and she actually threw some shit at him! Funny! Ms. Garrison was also jumping around because a "real man" asked her on a date since her sex change. Wow.

Cartman showed back up today. He was shivering and such, but apparently Butters found him, and brought him back from freezing to death. He did seem like he was lost in thought, which is weird for Cartman, because he never seems to use his brain all that much anyway. Well, unless he's plotting something. He does do that a lot though, usually something to do about money. He seems obsessed with a way to get an easy buck, though, when he has it, he doesn't do anything with it. Just blows it on some stupid shit like a themepark for himself or something.

Anyway, I remember something that I was writing about last night. About the darkness that follows whenever I die... I remember everything, but nobody else remembers. It's almost like I'm not even there...

He paused a bit, and sighed. His parents and siblings were out of the house, so he was by himself. He reached up, and pulled down his hood, breathing a bit, and wiping a hand through his somewhat sweaty hair. He looked out the window towards the rest of , what Cartman called, "the ghetto side of town". There really wasn't much going on... there never really was, when everyone wasn't concerned with some rally to help "better the world" or something.

Yawning a bit, he bent back down over his page.

I wonder if I even do exist? I mean, it seems as though, when I die, I just phase out. Blackness...nothingness, and then everyone is just hunkydory the next day. I wake up, and I'm fine...but I remember dying. Every one of those times, I remember the pain of my spirit leaving my body... the pain of my heart stopping...

At that moment, a knock sounded at the door, jarring him somewhat, as he pulled his hood back tightly over his head, zipping it up. He closed the book, and went through the house towards the door, unlocking it, and pullling it open.

"Hey, K-Kenny, what's up?" Butters asked, as he looked around, afraid. He was still in his Professor Chaos' outfit, though the helmet seemed eskew, and he had bags under his eyes. He looked panicked. Kenny let him in, stepping back a bit, before Butters closed the door.

"What's up, man?" Kenny asked, curious as to why Butters had come to his house, instead of Cartman's or something.

"W-well, jeepers...I just gotta tell someone something, and I don't know who, so I figured I could tell you..." He said in a rush, rubbing his knuckles together, and looking side to side, then at Kenny hopefully.

"Okay. Go ahead." Kenny said, and sighed inwardly.

"W-well, okay... you know when Eric went to go freeze himself...well, I kind of...knew about it...and helped him out..."

"And?" Kenny was grinning underneath his hood, but Butters couldn't see. He thought that this was funny.

"A-and...well, now I know that it could've killed him...and...I didn't want that to happen. I feel terrible." He hung his head, still rubbing his knuckles together.

Kenny giggled a little underneath his hood, and patted Butters on the back. "It's okay, dude. Eric deserved it. He's an asshole."

"Y-yeah...I guess..." Butters said, and looked down again, sighing then smiling a little. "Thanks Kenny. I feel better now. You're a great friend."

"You're welcome." He smiled.

Butters smiled, and looked down at what he was wearing. "But now...it's time for Professor Chaos to reign some more terror!" He said, as he lifted his cape higher, and darted off out of the house.

"Damn, he's such a kid." Kenny said under his breath, as he went back to his journal, sighed, then put it back up. He was kind of glad that Eric was okay, but, well, he WAS an asshole, and deserved whatever kind of twisted stuff that karma wanted to do to him. Though he kind of wished that karma wouldn't use Butters so often. "But the kid kind of deserves it. " He thought, locking the book back up in the lock-box, and going to make himself a sandwich.