My name is Eric Cartman. I'm sure that name probably sounds familiar to anyone reading this story. Anyone who is reading this likely came here for that reason.
I'm fourteen years old now, in ninth grade. The Cartman everyone is familiar with was only in fourth grade. I've since changed quite a bit. I'm a very different person now than the Cartman you know best. I remember my fourth-grade self, and though it's been only five years, it feels like five hundred. Memories sometimes feel far more or less distant than they are.
I think that the reason it seems like some memories are so far away is that I've changed. Of course, a part of that is because I'm a much older kid now, but more so my personality.
I did some awful things when I was little that I strongly regret. I consider myself lucky not to be in juvenile hall and admit I deserve it. I hope I never end up there, but that doesn't stop me from trying to own up to my mistakes. I want to redeem myself and show others I've changed from my old ways, but I can't find the right time and place. I fully take responsibility for my actions in the past.
I've developed new interests in the last few years. Now that I'm in 9th grade, I've begun exploring myself as a person and gaining some insight into the world. I spend most of my time exploring the wilderness, and when I'm at home, I often meditate, pray, and do other relaxing activities. Meditating has helped me to unlock my inner mind and discover my deeper self. I haven't been doing it as much recently. Well, at least not outside of school. I've been taking a class in school about yoga and meditation. I'm not a big fan of yoga, and the only reason I have that class is that it's a requirement for 9th graders.
It's not that fun for me and gets tiring pretty quickly. I'm a pretty big kid, so it's hard to do all the exercises without putting too much pressure on myself. Luckily for me, I only have this class on Tuesdays and Fridays. On Fridays, it's my last class before school ends. It works well for me since that class wears me out.
My Friday afternoon routine is as simple as it sounds. I get on the bus, ride home, crawl into bed, and nap for a couple of hours. Then, I get up and either order dinner or make myself something. My mom doesn't get home until late in the evening.
She is sometimes gone by the time I wake up in the morning. On school days, I get up at 5:15, and on weekends, I sleep in later, until around 9 or 10. I don't hang out much with my friends from school anymore. She works Saturdays, so I've always used that as my quiet time. After discovering some new interests, I've spent most of my time by myself pursuing them. The only friends I have at school now are Butters and Stan.
Kyle moved out of state two years ago, and I haven't heard from him. As far as Kenny is, I don't see him very often anymore. For a while, I suspected that he was dead. Well, obviously! I later found out from Stan that he went to a private school. I don't know where Kenny is, but I know it's still somewhere in South Park. He lives in a different house now. I knocked on his door one day, but other people moved in. Two strangers answered the door. I've only seen Kenny a couple of times since sixth grade.
Meanwhile, I still live in the same house as I always have. Outside of school, I have another friend that I'm not super close with, but we still consider ourselves to be friends. My neighbor, George, has a young daughter named Chloe. She's about 8 or 9 years old. She's a lot younger than me, so we don't have much in common. When I see her outside, I play with her. We're the only kids on the block, as far as I know. I haven't seen any other kids on our street, so I assume it's just us. Last Fall, we built a fort in her backyard and covered it with leaves.
I have a funny story about it, which has become a joke between my friends and me. One night, Butters slept over at my house, and by coincidence, Chloe had one of her friends for a sleepover. I forget that girl's name, but when Butters and I were taking a walk outside, Chloe and her friend came out. They invited us to play in the fort with them. We had nothing else to do, so we accepted the invitation.
I forgot to inform my mom where I was, like an idiot! Chloe and her friend were reading a book. It was Friday, so I was already tired, but listening to that book put me to sleep. I fell asleep in the fort. Long story short, Butters and Chloe fell asleep too. Her friend was the one reading the book. I woke up to police sirens. My mom thought we were missing and called the cops.
I'm not sure what went through my head that night. I had to explain everything, feeling as embarrassed and stupid as I'd ever felt. Sure, it wasn't as insane as that one other time when I was eight years old and got abducted by aliens and had an anal probe. That was probably the scariest night of my life.
South Park is one strange place. Going to any neighboring town feels like crossing over into a different world. I sometimes wonder if crossing the borders between South Park and other communities are portals into different dimensions.
Something soon happened that would only reinforce my little theory. I say South Park and other towns are different dimensions, but I don't mean that literally. I believe in alternate realities and being able to shift to different timelines, but I don't think going the next town over would take one to a different timeline. It is just figurative language I'm using.
Though things seemed quite different everywhere besides South Park, nothing could've prepared me for the place where I'd soon travel. If only I could've known that these were the last days I'd spend in South Park for a long time, I would've never complained about how fucked up of a town it is.
