A lone corner table stood at one far end of the cafeteria. Notably, the place to be for private conversations for kids amongst the crowd of students. For Kenny though, it had been his lunch spot for the past week. He refused to eat at his regular center table where the usual guys were. He could barely stand being around them since all they did was stare and make him feel more of what he didn't want to be by not talking to them.

This is Intergalactic Alien McCormick reporting. Can you hear me, Major Tom?

He stared at his partially nibbled baloney sandwich in silence, chewing on the small piece. The boy was hardly that hungry, not over a pharynx or stomach issue, but no food has been up to his appetite at all lately. Even more, his empty table still wasn't that hidden from the boys' table despite his attempts to distance himself. The fourth-grade boys had a particular habit of giving Kenny glances today. Probably based on whatever Stan reported back to them. Kenny could scoff.

He didn't want to pay attention to them, but being alone didn't give him much to look at. Kyle was heavily leading the conversation with probably all the explanations as to why Kenny had been nothing but cold. It's not like his behavior hadn't made way through the entire class' awareness now. Even Garrison was hesitant about pairing Kenny with anyone in group assignments.

If Kyle wanted to continue to be a snitch just to make Kenny look a certain way, fucking whatever. It's not like everyone hadn't already been eyeing and whispering throughout the entire school. At first, Kenny joked he didn't even care what first graders thought of him, but hell, maybe at this point he did.

The fourth-grade boys kept glancing over their shoulders, and Kenny tried his best to ignore it eating his mind. Maybe move his lunch to a bathroom stall, at least it'd be quiet. As Kyle's heavy chatter died down, Kenny's attention was put back into gear. Taking notice of Butters' look exchanged between him and the rest of the boys. Stan looked like he was attempting to stop Butters, but that didn't keep the light blonde boy from taking hold of his food tray and hopping down to dart Kenny's way.

"Aw, crap.."

"Heya, Kenny!" The bright-eyed child his age greeted. He arrived faster than...well, not unexpected. The hooded boy just gave a nod of his head, still staring at his untouched baloney. "How ya doin'?"

Kenny shrugged. "You..?"

"Yeah, fine!" Butters said, cheery-eyed to which Kenny would just feel bad if he were to ignore him. "I figured you looked kinda lonely over here, you think you wanna come and sit with the rest of us?"

As if. Kenny could see jackasses muttering as Butters talked to him, and Kenny was tempted to tell them to just bite him already. He really, really didn't wanna be around any of the guys. But when did he at all enjoy this isolation? Still..

"Butters, you don't have to-"

"C'mon! Oh, those fellas sure do miss ya over there."

Kenny could spot some of the few stares from said table. "I'm comfortable right here."

"Then I'll sit with ya."

Kenny clutched the sandwich, resting his fists against the paper lunch bag he flattened. It was weird how every time someone was nice to him, it felt so fraud-like now. Like it was charity work or something. Whether genuine or not, Kenny wasn't finding much joy out of even the most generous attempts from others. What did that make him?

"It's fine, I know what you're thinking."

Butters slanted his frown. "Well, I don't know what you think I'm thinkin'. But, I wanna sit with my pal Kenny." He offered a firm pout. Which was knowingly his only 'frustrated' look, so it looked like there was no denying for Kenny.

"Okay.."

Butters happily slid his tray onto the table and plopped up across from Kenny. The boy in the parka drank some water, still not in the mood to eat.

"So! You gonna come play Magic: The Gathering with us tonight?"

Kenny swallowed his sip. He hadn't played in a while. Wasn't to say he didn't like it anymore but he didn't wanna do something he used to do and have it be ruined just like everything else.

"Heh, we kinda need you for it." Butters continued. "Wouldn't be the same."

"Thanks," Kenny said, flattered his playing skills were still remembered at least. He lifted his sandwich though didn't bite it. "I don't know if I can, but, I'd like to play again another time."

Butters was naive, but not enough to know Kenny just flat out wasn't interested. The blue-jacketed boy avoided looking back at the boys in risk of derailing from the conversation he actually got Kenny to speak in. He hardly spoke to anyone in the class anymore.

"That sandwich won't eat itself, y'know."

Kenny looked down at the baloney Butters referred to. "Not that hungry.."

"You want one of my fries?"

Knowing he might not let Kenny refuse, the gloomy boy reached out and took Butters' offered fry. Plopping it into his mouth and chewing it softly. "Thanks," he muttered.

Butters smiled. Happy he made his appearance as he lifted his apple juice. "Cheers!"

Kenny swallowed down the tough bite, picking up his water glass and tapping it gently to Butters' juice box.

Kevin did an ollie on his friend's skateboard, riding up the concrete ramp and coming to a halt as he caught himself on the ground. He kicked the board up and took it by one end to pass to Dylan who took his turn of a ride. Kevin raked the hanging locks of dirty blond away from his face, finding a squat as the corruption of bike wheels came far too abruptly close to the group of seventh graders and made a few of the boys' heads turn.

Jared and the few hopped off their bikes, exchanging a fist bump with Bartles. "Huh, nice."

The seventh graders exchanged mutual looks of annoyance. These sixth graders never knew when to cut it out, and it wasn't a superiority thing for the seventh graders based on being a year older. Frankly, Jared and his stupid knucklehead crew gave no shits about who got hurt when trying to impress others, so it was more than just irritable.

Kevin could vouch for disliking them specifically.

"We'll bud in if that's cool."

Dylan came back up the ramp as swiftly as his answer. "Not really, no."

Some of the seventh graders muttered laughs, Kevin just sat back.

"Psh," Keifer mocked. "You older flemwads don't own everything, y'know."

"Nah, we just don't skate with asswipe sixth graders who think they own everything."

"Huh! Didn't realize you're so lame once you're in seventh."

Dylan dropped his board and came to face Keifer, wanting to smack that smug smirk off his face so fast his head would spin. "Haven't you been fuckers enough?"

Jared arched his brow, clutching onto his bike handles as he read Dylan's weird defensive body language. His best friend Kevin still remained sitting, uninterested in whatever a bunch of sixth-graders had to try and impress them with. Jared barked a laugh in realization.

"Yo!" He tapped Bartles. "We talking 'bout Kevin's shrimp brother!?"

Some of Kevin's friends looked to him, but he remained unresponsive.

"Don't even worry about it, McCormick," Jared joked. "I think your beggar family was bound to have one sick baby-"

Jared's world became stars the moment Kevin's swinging fist met his face. All seventh graders and sixth graders busted into large howls of war as Jared pushed Kevin back and the two proceeded to fight with full-blown punches. Neither of them excessively coordinated, but aggressive nonetheless.

Kevin kept swinging. Someone who had no mercy for a nearly-dead kid didn't deserve his own. Especially not on account of his brother.

Stuart entered his son's room, flicking on the lights to rid of the late evening's darkness. He dropped off an old action figure of Kenny's that he'd sat down on on the couch without realizing. Kenny was in the kitchen helping his mom clean up after dinner, as Stuart drifted into the empty bedroom. Making way to his son's bed to leave it so he could find it afterward.

Stuart tossed it to the unmade bed's pillow, unable to react to what sounded like the small shaking of beads when the action figure's plastic hit the pillow top. Stuart halted only for a second before turning his body in full attention to the weird reaction. Coming forward, he removed both the toy and the pillow.

"..Hell?"

Underneath, a prescription bottle remained. Presumably of the Emflaza prescribed for Kenny, only they kept that in the bathroom. Stuart questioned why he would need the thing under his pillow at all, rationalizing with himself not to jump to the worst conclusion. But, what also threw him off was the sticker residue and roughness of the edges on the label. Picking it up, he looked at the prescribed date.

Just over two months ago, Kenny was still in the hospital by then. They were supposed to renew Kenny's prescription within roughly a one-month time frame by estimation of the bottle size. Yet it was filled nearly halfway. Let alone stuffed in some bottle Kenny seemed to save, or so much dig out of the trash.

Nope. This wasn't right. Not even fucking mathematically close.

Stuart clutched the bottle in the fist, fuming in his tracks out of the bedroom door and down the hall further near his and Carol's room. Entering the bathroom they all shared, he made way to the mirrored medicine cabinet above the sink. Opening up, he pulled out Kenny's usual prescription and compared. The one over the sink had the most recent date of when prescribed, yet there was still more off about it. Stuart put down the one from the pillow and observed the other, looking through the transparent orange of the bottle at the pills within. Continuing to notice an odd difference, he popped open the top and stuck a finger inside to better observe. Definitely seeing what his eyes had told him; He saw two different types of many pills in what was supposed to be one single diagnosis.

The majority of them were Kenny's Emfalza, judging by the flat oval shape and the engraved number on each of the level thirty dosage. Upon closer inspection, there was still a mixed match. Some others were oval, but in no shape flat and neither engraved with any number. Even the texture was smoother compared to the grainy roughness of the regular pill.

Stuart lifted an odd additional pill from the bottle, noting immediately how it felt a bit sticky between his thumb and index from being stuffed in with a bunch it wasn't supposed to be with. No way would he risk taking it, but there was a strong smell coming from its slight melt of the surface. Stuart leaned in. His nose inhaled mint. It was Tic Tacs.

It was damn breath mints.

While all the guys gathered that night for their game session, Kenny watched TV from his couch with a tired hand holding up his head against the armrest. Though his eyes remained glued to the Terrance and Philip episode, his brain only heard static. He'd finished helping his mother with the kitchen very silently, only to zombie his way back over to the couch and pick up where he left off in letting himself get lost in a void. The faint clattering of dishes from his mother in the kitchen floated through his ears, as did another obnoxious fart and laugh from Terrance and Philip. Nonetheless, nothing was received by the tired eyes behind the tightly drawn hood.

His senses were awoken when he realized the doorbell rang, followed by a clear knock. Kenny remained in his seat, but seeing as no family member came, he growled and lifted off the couch to go himself. He clawed the door handle lazily and twisted it to open, meeting empty air.

Wow, great waste of his time. Probably one of Kevin's friends doing a practical joke or something. Kenny was near to close the door, but luck had his side when he happened to look down and ponder over what was delivered most likely for him. A Mythic Rare card sitting on the cold step. The one Kenny singlehandedly used in his final play to beat the crap out of Billy the fifth-grader in a Magic: The Gathering session during the early school year. His golden title amongst the game that no one could steal from him.

He was usually the leading winner. Those other bastards could barely hold a deck, everyone knew it was Kenny's game. It sucked to miss it, but hey, if those guys wanted to still claim him the ultimate player, he would take it. He bent down and picked up his memorable piece, closing the door and observing its slight creases but pristine gloss nonetheless.

"Kenny!"

He looked up at his father's demand coming from what sounded like around the corner and down the hall. The boy slipped his grand possession into his pocket and followed in a continued mindless walk. He turned into the hallway past the kitchen leading to the usual bedrooms, seeing his door wide open compared to how he left it. He wandered further figuring his dad was there waiting for him.

Stuart clutched two prescription bottles in a furious fist where he stood in front of Kenny's bed. Though his son's eyes were tired, a spark of fear rang through them.

"Boy, the hell you doin' dumping shit back an' forth like it don't matter?"

"I wasn't dumping shit.." Kenny snarled.

"Ey!" Stuart growled. "You just watch what you say! I've had enough of your attitude already lately! Now why the hell am I finding an old ass bottle under your pillow?" Stuart popped open the other from the medicine cabinet, fishing his finger in to grab a pill. "An' why is the other half-filled with TicTacs?"

Kenny brooded his eyes towards the floor.

"Kenny, answer me!"

Carol startingly came into view of the doorway over her husband's hollering. "What the hell is going on?"

His wife and son both jumped at Stuart's throwing down of both bottles, marching over to his wife as Kenny strayed over to his bed and climbed on it. "Our son hasn't been taken his goddamn pills!"

"Not all the time.." Kenny mumbled, hanging his legs off his mattress.

"Enough outta you!" Stuart snapped. "You got no reason!"

"I hate those pills!" His son argued. "I'm not a...robot!"

"A robot.." Stuart snarled to the air, fed up with it all.

"I don't wanna take it, anymore! I'm home from the hospital!" He kicked his foot back, his behavior a little more juvenile than it had been in a while. At least compared to this emotionless drone his parents saw of him.

Carol looked between her vexed husband and her defensive son. "Kenny, baby, there's nothin' to be embarrassed about over a silly pill."

"A stupid pill I don't need!"

"Hey!" Stuart growled, the heat rising in his voice enough to make this house burn to the ground. "If you don't listen to us you sure as hell will listen to them doctors! That damn pill is keepin' you goin'! A damn pill we paid for, for YOU!"

Kenny's brow dropped and he snapped enraged eyes to his dad. Stuart remained completely furious. "Shit, an' with the way you've been acting!? There ain't nothin' we gon' do that you're grateful for! EVER!"

Gone was the coddling, and boom went the money-based blow his father was suddenly pinning on him. Kenny hopped off his bed to face Stuart with an unfazed scowl. Challenging his old man.

"Maybe if I died, you wouldn't have to worry about that!"

Stuart's fire was fed more, and his wife nearly choked on her breath out of grief. "Kenneth McCormick, you stop that!" Carol scolded but almost begged. For him to even think-

"I'm not a baby!"

"You are my baby! An' you'll listen to what you're supposed to!" Carol snapped.

"I don't wanna listen to you!"

"Oh, you goddamn will!" His mom was enraged, now more angry than appalled. "Fuckin' Christ! This is all for your good health, Kenny!"

"I don't care!"

"You best care!" Stuart warned. "We ain't done nothin' that hasn't been for you since this started!"

"I hate you!"

Carol ground her jaw. "You stay in your goddamn room!"

Kevin had come to see what the loud commotion was about. Watching his enraged parents leave past him through the door as he held a cool rag to a scab on his temple. He had a few bruises and scrapes from what he told his parents that late afternoon was just another accident at the skatepark. Looking to his fuming brother, Kevin lowered the rag.

"What happened?"

"GET OUT!" Kenny screeched, launching a pillow to Kevin's legs. His older brother startingly watching Kenny stand up on his mattress. "GET OUT! GO!"

Kevin remained facing his little brother atop his bed who looked like a caveman. Completely disassociated from reality into a shell of a boy who thought that every offering hand was some method to undermine him. If he didn't want anyone's help, what else was there for his siblings to do.

Kevin grabbed hold of the door to close on his way out, scowling his brother's way. "You're out of your mind."

The door shut, and Kenny remained standing atop his bed in a frenzy. He kicked his action figure off the bed so it landed with the prescription bottles. Falling to his stomach, he gave a blood-curdling scream to his pillow.

To be continued...