A/N: All right, I know it's been forever, but I lack motivation, so don't kill me...Please.

A real quick notice: I'm going to be changing this story up. I'm doing this chapter in Kyle's POV, because he hasn't been a really big character in the story so far. Anyway, please enjoy.

Intro

Kyle's POV

"W-what do you mean he's dead? He can't be dead!" Kyle cried, tears tugging at the corners of his delicate green eyes.

Stan rested a caring hand on his best friend's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, dude..."

Kyle freed the caged tears from their watery prison, letting them slide freely down his cheek as he buried his head into Stan's broad, peachy chest.

"Why did he have to go again, Stan?" Kyle couldn't help but ask.

"God must really want him dead, Kyle..."

"But it's not fair! All the time we spent together...All the memories we shared..."

"I know...I didn't want him to go, either, Kyle."

"Bubbele, eat your Cholent before it gets cold."

I shoved my face into my tear-soaked sleeve, refusing to even look at my hideous dinner.

"I know you're sad, Kyle, but you still have to eat."

"No!" I cried, shoving the bowl away with my free hand.

"KYLE, FOR THE LOVE OF ABRAHAM, YOU ARE GONNA EAT THIS CHOLENT AND YOU ARE GONNA LIKE IT!"

I sprung up from my chair like a Jack-In-The-Box and stormed out of the room.

"Kyle, get back here!"

"You have no idea, Ma..."

She still didn't know about Kenny. Whenever she asked me what was wrong, I simply told her that kids were teasing me for being Jewish.

"I can't live with it anymore. Whenever I close my eyes, I see his face...I see those shining blue eyes, so full of life...And it hurts to know that they won't ever live to see the life that could have been. Just living with the memory makes me want to kill myself."

"What are you talking about, Kyle?"

"I-don't wanna talk about it..."

"Well, Kyle, if you're not going to talk, you can just go up to your room."

Why doesn't anyone understand me?, I thought to myself as I carried my tired feet into my eerie pitch back bedroom.

Kyle...

"What the hell was that?" I spun around, expecting to see the jolly face of my adopted brother Ike, amused by my reaction to one of his childish pranks. However, there was nothing but the same old narrow hallway.

Over here, dude.

I glanced over at my bed and nearly screamed at the top of my lungs.

There, sitting 'criss-cross applesauce', was Kenny...

A/N: I really don't know if I can do this anymore...Well, hope you enjoyed this talentless short chapter from your favorite author, Can'tWriteWorthAShit. See you next time...If I'm not busy writing more pointless crappy stories that nobody likes.