Mister Cellophane

By Shattered Crystals (Ahhelga)

'Cellophane,
Mister Cellophane,
Should've been my name…
Mister Cellophane,
'Cause you can look right through me,
Walk right by me,
And never know I'm there...'

—Chicago, "Mr. Cellophane"

"They called me Mister Cellophane."

"Oh really? Do you know why they did?"

"…Yeah. But no."

He gulped. For the tenth time just this week, he had attempted to tell him.

"K-Kenny?"

The boy in front of him turned around. To him, he was as graceful as ever. But in another's mind, it was a simple turn. But then again, to someone else, they wouldn't have seen the butterflies that flew around his head as he turned.

That should have been a sign that he was going crazy.

Unfortunately, he took no notice of it, so he kept gawking at him dumbly. For a while he did this, and the boy had frowned a bit.

"Yes?"

"I…I… gotta go!"

In a rush now, he ran all the way back to his post in the next hallway. He clutched his chest as he breathed heavily. Boy was he close. He never came that close in the nine times before that that week. He smiled softly in pride of his progress. Okay, petty progress, but who cares? Maybe tomorrow he'd have better luck. Maybe tomorrow he'd have the courage to say more. Or maybe he'd be able to say it all.

No, that's what he said yesterday when he attempted before.

There was only so much a fourteen-year-old could withstand. And this was too much.

"Have you ever thought that you…tried to hard?"

"Sometimes." A shrug came with it. "But they told me to try harder."

"Did you always listen to them?"

"Yes."

"Hey slave monkey, why don't you pick that up for me?"

"Oh! Uh, err, sure. H-here you go," he said.

No thanks came in reply. The other boy now had been making shooing signals to go away. He paused.

"…No I won't. Be-because I want to hang out with you guys."

His eyes darted back and forth towards the boy in the back of the whole group. Their eyes locked.

Kenny…

In an instant, he threw himself at the boy in the parka. Almost stunned, the boy in the parka froze. But after a moment, he rubbed his back. In the background, they could hear the rest of the group laughing.

But he couldn't hear that group. He heard other voices.

Do more. Tell him. Now.

But he didn't. Instead he blushed and let go. After that, he ran out crying. The fat one had started cracking up, as other two had started making comments to each other. The last one, Kenny, had still been frozen, trying to remember the nervous boy hugging.

"I bet you felt good after that."

"I-I sure did! Heck, I don't regret it."

"Then are you glad they're in your head?"

"I…I kinda am. Yeah. I am."

"What about the bad things they did?"

"…"

His parents were gone. Home alone was almost scary. But by now, he was used to it. Glee filled him up though. The events of earlier that day had still been in his mind. He was so glad he got to touch Kenny. He couldn't stop smiling.

Now what?

Yeah, now what?

Tell him? Nah. Maybe. Sure. Yeah, sure.

How about now?

No.

Mister Cellophane.

At that moment, he started banging his head with this palms. The thoughts stopped. But the question of 'now what' was still in his brain. The next time he'd see Kenny was Monday, unless he saw him over the weekend. He decided he do it on Monday. The weekend would give him time to prepare.

"Back to the Mister Cellophane thing."

"What about it?"

"Is that why you did it?"

"No sir."

"Then what did it?"

Preparing was hard, he realized.

Standing in front of the mirror, he cleared his throat.

"I-I love you, Kenny."

Whether it had been his imagination or not, his reflection had turned into Kenny, and had said:

"What? No. You… You can't love me."

Shocked, he fell back. He stared at the reflection. Kenny had been stunned as well in the mirror. Actually, more like disgusted than stunned.

"Yes I can!"

His hand slid over an old broken glass bottle near him on the floor. In a swift movement, he threw it at his reflection, convinced that it would stop the hallucination of Kenny.

Unfortunately, once the bottle hit the mirror, he realized that that Kenny…

…was no hallucination.

In front of him was Kenny, lying unconscious. The bottle had hit his head. Shards of glass had been stuck to his skin. He was bleeding rapidly. He kept muttering to himself, hoping that Kenny would be okay. In the back, he heard the hall monitor, yelling for the nurse and the custodian. He kept muttering the whole time. He was muttering about the wellbeing of Kenny after that. But mainly he was muttering about the present. Why was he at school? Wasn't he talking to the mirror?

Suddenly, it came back to him.

He never went home.

Instead, after running out the room crying, he stayed in the hall crying. Kenny had come after him. And the whole scene just played on in his mind.

He was at school. He attacked who he loved.

He was going nuts.

You should have listened, Mister Cellophane.

Once again, he banged his head with his hands to get rid of the thoughts. However this time, he couldn't get rid of them.

If you told him sooner, you wouldn't have imagined that scene in your room with the mirror, with your home, with your parents gone. You could have listened to me. You should have. You're going to die because you killed him. You killed Kenny. You bastard!

"Shut up!"

"That's it, young man, you're coming with me!"

Without realizing it, the custodian had been talking to him that time. The man had grabbed onto his wrist now. He hung his head in shame as students from passing classes had peeked their heads outside to see what had been happening. Apparently word got out already that there was an attack in the halls.

You should kill yourself Mister Cellophane. You need to.

So he did. That night, right before he was going to the police.

"Now you know why I'm here. I still don't think I deserve to be in heaven, sir."

"Oh you've done a lot of good things in your past, Butters."

"But I attacked Kenny."

"Well, he didn't die. And the attack was only because of them."

"You mean it wasn't my fault?"

"They only wanted to invade your brain."

A long pause followed. Butters kept still and quiet.

"Do you know why they called you Mister Cellophane?"

"Truthfully, sir, no."

"You were almost invisible. You could be seen through, walked by, and not get noticed. But you know, cellophane can suffocate someone if they get too close. Think of them getting too close."

"So the voices in my brain got too close?"

"Exactly, but I'm sorry son, you seemed to listen to them and instead wrapped them lovingly than killing them"

"…I know. What's going to be made of me?"

"Son, I don't know. But when you move on, you'll find out."

"I-I guess I'll count on that."

Author's Note: Oh God. This took like less than half an hour to write. Jeez. But still, I had to let it out. I hope you liked it. Because when I was writing it, it seemed so good. But as I reread it, it was pretty crappy. Haha. I bet it was too confusing, hm? Feel free to ask anything if you were confused.

Anyway, the title was created as an homage for Chicago, since I recently got seriously into it. And South Park is not owned by me either.

Shattered Crystals
(Also Known as Ahhelga)