It was Saturday at 4pm when Kenny woke up, a throbbing headache consuming his mind and a gnawing sensation in his stomach. His memories, as they often did, flooded back into Kenny's mind all at once after a few minutes of him lying dazed on his dirty mattress. The sudden brain activity made his cold body tremble involuntarily and he let out a sob, followed by a series of them as he remembered his most recent death.No. Craig's word rippled around his brain as tears leaked down his face. He screamed in frustration.Why?He thought, shaking violently.Why did he have to be so stupid and fall for him?
Kenny spent that weekend locked in his bedroom, detached from reality. It was a coping mechanism he used all too often; when he was hurting his brain would simply switch off and he would lie, dazed, the concept of reality somehow nonexistent. It was peaceful, but the pain and shock was overwhelming when he finally came back.
This happened on Sunday at 11pm, when his house was so silent that the noise of South Park's notoriously cold winds blowing through the old wood walls of his home sounded like soft, rhythmic breaths. It was comforting to Kenny as he lay and thought of Craig, tears silently dribbling down his pink cheeks as the image of Craig in the sunset displayed in his mind. It was almost as if he could talk to him. "I love you." Kenny mumbled, his voice croaky from lack of hydration. He couldn't remember how long it'd been since he had eaten or drank, nor did he care. "I love you, Craig. I love you so much, it hurts. I'm happy hurting for you, Craig." Repeating the boys name was soothing, and he soon fell asleep, his words becoming nonsensical murmurs and then gentle snores.
Waking up for school on Monday felt unreal, as if his body was separate from his conscience, his spirit dragging his reality along like a mother to a disobedient child. He was dissociating again, but it wasn't as if he cared or had the energy to make an effort to focus. He just continued to lazily male his way through the rest of the day, Monday becoming Tuesday and Tuesday blurring into Wednesday. If you had asked Kenny what he had learnt and who he had talked to in those past three days, he wouldn't of been able to give an answer, as he didn't know. As ill as Kenny was, however, he had taken the time to notice that Craig had not been in school during any of the three days.
He had asked Clyde, one of the few people Craig could bear to talk to, on the afternoon of Wednesday, only an hour before school finished, if he had any idea where Craig was. The brunette boy had looked at Kenny worriedly, taking in his mess of an appearance before shaking his head and muttering "Sorry dude, no idea," before vanishing down the corridor.
On Thursday at lunch, Kenny sat with his friends, idly picking spaghetti up with his fork before dropping it again, his half closed eyes fixed on Craig's usual seat across the canteen from Kenny. He could hear his friends talk but he paid them no mind. He didn't care for them at the moment.
