I rang Craig's doorbell. Why the fuck did I ring the doorbell, I don't know. The music was so loud I could barely hear myself think. Just the volume I like it. So why the hell am I still standing here waiting for someone to open the door? I shake my head and cuss at myself for being such a dumbass and walk in.
There was more smoke than air, more booze than people, and music loud enough to shatter your eardrums. Now this was my idea of a party. "Kenny, my man! You made it buddy!" Craig yelled over the riot of music and people and put his arm around my shoulders. He smiled; damn that kid needed braces. Like Cartman once said, he had fucked up teeth. They were worse than mine.
I smiled back politely at drunk Craig and practically screamed, "Wouldn't miss it!"
"Oh, dude. What the fuck did you do to your hands? Holy shit!" he laughed, "well have a beer and enjoy the party you crazy piece of shit!" Craig laughed some more and walked off.
I dodged person by person and finally reached the alcohol. I took a cup and poured some beer in it from the keg. The poison slipping down my throat felt great. I looked through the crowd and searched to see anyone I knew. I saw some hot asses that I might want for later but that could wait until I was drunk. After checking out girls I scanned the crowd again and saw Stan and walked over to him. Well, walk is an understatement. Trudge is more like it. I put my hand on his shoulder and screamed, "Hey man, you came."
He turned around and smiled. Stan was a little taller than me, and definitely a lot bulkier. He had a six pack and I had ribs. "Yeah, I did."
"Is Wendy here?" I asked jokingly as to refer to him never do anything she didn't "approve" of. Because she was in control of his life.
"No, she's sick." He said seriously, Stan obviously didn't get the joke.
"And she let you come?" I raised my eyebrows.
He tapped his fingers on the side of his cup nervously. "Well, I didn't exactly tell her…" he trailed off and looked at me like he told me his deepest, darkest secret and thought I was going to tell the whole world. It probably was actually his deepest darkest secret and he didn't care about the whole world find out, he cared about Wendy finding out. Stan was terrified of her. Maybe she beat him or something, I don't know. I just laughed in response and we started talking. I wanted to rebuild my friendship with Stan. When my life went down the drain I lost my friends. And I wanted them back. After Stan was done babbling on about sports and Wendy and me pretending I cared about those two things, we went back to doing our own thing.
Again trudging through the seniors of South and North Park I spotted a lump of fat. "Cartman?" I poked Eric in the back and he swung around almost knocking some people over.
"Oh, hi Kenny." He blushed like he was embarrassed to be here and even more so for me to see him here.
"I didn't know you liked to get your rockstar on."
He shrugged. "It's better than being at home when my mom just got a new boyfriend."
I smirked. "So you don't wanna hear your mommy giving her herpes to someone else?" I asked just to be a jackass.
Cartman creased his brown eyebrows. "You're one to talk, you poor piece of crap! You probably have every STD there is slut!"
"Whoa now, no need to get feisty. I think you're going to grow up to be a cougar like your mom." I winked jokingly. He apparently didn't get it because his face reddened. "I'd rather be a slut than a virgin!" I laughed and walked off.
"Aye! You better apologize asswipe!" I could hear Cartman's loud voice from behind me.
"McCormick!" I heard someone yell and looked around. I searched above some heads and saw Craig waving me over.
"What's up?" I yelled when I finally got over to him.
He held up some green in a bag. "Courtesy of North Park." Craig grinned and waved the pot in my face. "You know you want it." Out of instinct I would have grabbed the bag out of his hand and gotten so high I could no longer feel, but I held back. I can save you. Repeating Kyle's words in my head, But I can't save you from yourself. You have to do that on your own. As corny and faggy as it sounds, I wanted to be saved. From this deep, black fiery hole on the path to my own destruction. How does that even make sense anyway? Save myself from myself? What the fuck does that even mean? And isn't saving myself the same thing as someone else saving me? Ugh, I'm thinking too hard. And I won't even have to do this again. Last party of the year. I might as well celebrate, right? Maybe just this one last time…
Everything was kind of a blur after that. I went to the Land of Boobs again like when I was a kid snorting cat piss, and then I finally came back into reality. I met some girls and became Mr. Suave for awhile before we went into a bedroom. Her name was Chelsea, I think. Or was it Amanda? I don't know and I don't care, I just knew it was amazing sex. After that I got, or attempted, to get my clothes on. I went back into the party but couldn't even walk because I was too wasted and high. I collapsed on the floor in the middle of riot of drunk teenagers and everything went black.
"Everyone get the fuck out! Nuh-uh, Clyde, Tweek, Token! Don't try and sneak out! You're helping cleaning up!" I heard a voice yell.
"No, uh, dude I gotta get home." Another voice spoke.
"Yeah, GAH, me too. This is too much pressure!" That voice I could easily recognize.
"I'm too hung-over," I could recognize Token's deep voice.
Everyone said "Me too," in unison.
"Well too bad! I am too and my parents are coming home tonight so I need to get this shit picked up. They all grunted but I heard steps walking around the room and things being picked up. You didn't really want to mess with Craig; he was a year older than everyone in our class (so now he's 19) and a lot bulkier. He wasn't much of a jock but he sure worked out. He was about the size of Stan. I'd love to see a fight between the two of them someday. I've always wondered who'd win. I'd probably make my bet on Craig since he's a lot meaner and Stan is kind of a pussy sometimes. "You too, McCormick!" I moaned in pain when a shoe came in contact with my side. Craig was the only person who called me by my last name. Everyone called me Kenny, even though my real name was Kenneth. All the girls in my class called me Kenneth, and I have no idea why. Kenneth sounds gay. It was like everyone calling Butters "Butters" even though his real name was Leopold. But Leopold was gayer than Kenneth. I rolled over and winced when the lights burned my eyes. I looked around and saw I was no longer in a crowd of people but piles of garbage. I grasped my head in my hands.
"Oooowww," I moaned. My head felt like someone set in on fire. My whole body ached. I noticed my shirt was on backwards and inside out, I was missing a shoe, I was covered in toilet paper, and there was someone's bra on my leg. What the hell happened last night? These weren't even my clothes—oh yeah, I borrowed them from Kyle. I tried to stand up but fell back down. Craig held out his hand and I took it but he yanked me up so hard I fell flat on my face.
He rolled his dark brown eyes. "Get up McCormick and help."
"I don't wanna," I complained even though I was talking to the floor.
"Too bad. Friends have to help friends clean up after parties and you're my friend so get the fuck up!"
"But I'm not your friend. I fucking hate you Craig." Which was a lie, despite being childhood enemies, me and Craig became pretty good friends. But when it comes to cleaning up after a party with a hangover, you have no friends.
"Yeah, I hate you too." Token agreed with me.
"GAH! Me too." Tweek agreed.
"Aaaawww," Craig said in a sugar-sweet voice, "I hate you guys too!" He smiled and flipped everyone off and continued, "Now start helping or you're going to hate me more." Craig grabbed me by the back of my hair and lifted me up from the floor.
"Oww, ow, ooowww, fuck. Ouch Craig, that hurt!"
"Good." He tossed me a broom that hit my head. "Now help." I sighed and started sweeping the junkyard of a floor.
After a good ten minutes I finally asked, "Does anyone know where my shoe is?" Everyone shrugged.
"Is this it?" Clyde said pointing up to my shoe that was duct-taped to the ceiling.
"What the hell?" I said obviously confused. "Okay, now does anyone have a ladder?"
"Why is your shoe on the ceiling?" Tweek actually shook with anxiety and his eye twitched. Tweek was an okay kid, but damn he gets annoying.
"We'll get it later, now just hurry up asswipes!" Craig yelled. We all covered our ears and murmured "Ow". Craig's loud voice wasn't helping our hangovers. After a freaking hour we finally got the whole house cleaned up. We all checked everywhere to make sure there wasn't any evidence, which there wasn't so that meant we could go.
"Okay, you can all leave now." Craig said finally satisfied with his clean house. Everyone but me left since I was still trying to retrieve my shoe from the ceiling. After I got a chair I could finally reach it and ripped the duct-tape off.
"Alright Craig, great party. Later, I guess." I made my way to the door before he stopped me.
"Wait! I've got some leftover pot and I can't keep it here. Do you want it?" I eyed the bag for a minute. I promised myself last night was the last time I'd do drugs. But hell, I could sell it for money or something. So I took it.
"Sure. Thanks." I smiled and went outside. I was surprised—it was actually sunny out. A bright ball of light is something we barely see in South Park. The temperature was starting to gradually rise seeing as it was almost May. I didn't know what to do. It was Sunday and I just wanted to get the day over with so I could get food tomorrow. I was starving; my stomach growled in agreement. I hadn't eaten since Friday. I looked at my watch. Eleven-thirty. If it was this early, why the hell did Craig make us rush cleaning up? Anyway, I guess there wasn't anything to do except walk around town. Which is what I usually do on weekends. Aren't I just a social butterfly? Then I remembered I still had Kyle's clothes on, so I decided I'd go to his house. I rang the doorbell and Sheila answered.
"Oh, why hello Kenny!" She said in her loud cheerful voice, "What can I do for you?"
As if it wasn't obvious. Why else would I be here? "Is Kyle here?"
"Oh, I'm sorry Kenny. Kyle isn't home; he went out with some of his friends." Sheila stated sympathetically.
A cloud of disappointment washed over me. "Oh, okay. Thanks Mrs. Broflovski." I turned around and heard a door shut. There goes my day. I sighed and started walking towards Stork's Pond. We used to love that place when we were kids, it was our official hang-out spot. God I miss being a kid. Not a worry in the world. Except dying, of course. But that became more of causality than a worry.
God, my head hurt like a bitch. It felt like I'd been hit over the head with a jackhammer. When I finally reached Stark's Pond I went to a rock, took off my shoes and socks and put my feet in the water. Even though the air was warm, the water was not. It was like ice. I'd probably get frostbite but whatever. I laid back and let the sun warm my skin.
On the other side of the pond I saw Butters walking towards me. I waved and he waggled his fingers like a girl. Well, Butters is kind of a girl. He's bi anyway. He came out in seventh grade. In sixth grade he finally found out what bi-curious actually meant, and he was extremely embarrassed. But the next year he decided he did like guys, but he also liked girls. He thought everyone would be extremely surprised, but he thought wrong. We all knew he was gay since the day we met him. Oh, I'm sorry, "bisexual". Not gay. There's a hint of sarcasm in that. He's never had any interest in any female since that Raisins' girl. He's always been into guys despite being "bisexual". Anyway, currently he's dating that Bradley kid from the gay camp.
"Well, hi there Kenny. I wasn't expecting to see you here." He sat down by a rock next to me.
"Yeah, neither was I."
He giggled. "Your shirt's inside-out, Ken."
I smirked. I completely forgot about it. "I know. Partied too hard last night."
"Oh," Butters looked off into the distance. "Well, I need to get home or my parents will get mad."
I shook my head. "Why do you care about your parents getting mad all the time, Butters? You're officially an adult now. You don't have to listen to them anymore."
"I know that. It's just; well they're my parents Kenny and they're the boss of me." Butters tapped his knuckles together, his nervous habit that he's had since we were kids.
"No they're not. You're your own boss of your own life. You need to stop letting them take control of your life." I despised Butter's parents. They we're self-manipulating abusive control-freaks. He was terrified of them, and I was sick of the way they treated him. "Stand up for yourself Butters. You're a man now, not a kid."
"I gotta go," he said and walked off. I sighed in disgust. He was a puppy dog on a leash. He was always grounded even though he's officially an adult now. Butters is second oldest in our class, next to Craig. He's older than us but acts the youngest. You'd think he'd toughen out by now and stand up to his parents. But its Butters and he'll never toughen up. I wish just once he'd stand up for himself.
I took my feet out of the water. They were numb, but quickly warmed up on the hot rocks. After about ten minutes they were dry and I put on my socks with too many holes to count and my beat-up tennis shoes. I sighed and started walking towards my house. There wasn't anything else to do. Maybe I'd nap, since my head still felt like it was going to explode. Once I got to my hell hole of an I don't even know how it can be house, instead of the front door I used my window. It was a less likely chance of me encountering my parents. Since my window was shit, I could easily lift it up and slip through. My room was how it always was. Tiny, dirty, full of rats and other critters. I had an itty-bitty closet despite having no clothes, torn up orange curtains, ripped-up brown flooring, a little box of childhood toys, posters of swimsuit models around my room that I've always had, and to top it all off, a bed that's all springs and no mattress. Sometimes I think it's less comfortable than the floor. But I didn't complain. At least I wasn't homeless. I was close, but not quite. Ah, this was the life.
I plopped down on my spine-breaking bed and closed my eyes.
"Kenny! Wake up!" I rolled over and looked up at my red-haired mother. "One of your friends are here." She said in that southern-twang of hers. Friends? What friend of mine comes to my house? No one wants to come here, not even me.
I walked groggily to the front door. I rubbed my eyes. "Kyle? What do you want?" I asked sleepily.
"It's Butters…h-he's in the h-hospital Kenny." Kyle stuttered like he always does when he's nervous.
A shock of anxiety washed through me. "Jesus, is he okay?" I asked. "What happened?"
He shook his head and some of his red curls fell in front of his eyes. "I don't know."
"Well let's go." I said walking outside and closing the door behind me. And we took off running towards the one place I hate almost as much as I hated my home because of so many bad memories, Hells Pass Hospital.
I'm sorry, I had total writer's block so it took awhile. Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed and I'll (hopefully) be writing more soon! Please review! :)
