Chapter Two
Astro-projection is in Demand
HDM: no idea why the chapter is named that way oO;; ::ahem:: I looove the reviews and the compliments! : D Yes, I am a deep person when not hyper and crazed. Kenny will experience a lot of emotions and it'll be an interesting roller coaster ride to say the least.
I can hear the tractor-trailer outside my home; it signals me to get up for school. I arouse in a daze, almost forgetting where I am. There's an odor looming that smells like dog piss and old meat. I shuffle through my rags and find clean garments to throw on my bare body. I look at my bureau to find an old comb. I brush through my wavy blond hair quickly. I look at myself in the mirror. I can see a fifteen-year-old boy with long hair and pale blue eyes. I can see a mal nutrition runt who looks he could pass as a seventh grader. I can gaze at a boy whose eyes have dim; eyes that don't sparkle like the sea. I see...a mere shell of what I've become.
I walk downstairs and see my mother at the kitchen table. She lies inert with her head lying on the table. Her red hair is matted and greasy; it falls over her dark eyes. I start up the old coffeemaker and watch the coffee slowly brew. The aroma must have awakened Mother because I can hear the creaking of the table. "Kenny..." she mumbles, "be a dear and turn off the T.V. for Mommy." I sigh and look at the T.V. to see it's not even on.
Mother must be losing it...
Shut up; don't talk about Mother that way!
Ah, you're so funny...protecting Mother's name, as if she actually cares! HAH!
You're a fucking liar! Mother cares, I know she cares!
I try to shake the recent 'argument' within and look at her. "Mother, the T.V. isn't on..." I reply quickly. I pour her some coffee and set it next to her. Suddenly, she cracks me right across the face. I stagger but I don't reply. I stand there with my eyes staring at the ground. "DON'T BACKTALK ME, MISTER! DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU'RE TALKING TO?! HUH?!" she screams. I bite down on my lip and I suppress my tears. Why? Why isn't her touch gentle like other mothers? I'm fucking with myself; she really doesn't love me. Instead, she breaks down into tears and sobs. She tries to touch my now red cheek; I shudder at her touch. "Oh Kenny..." she sobs, "What have we become?"
We?
I walk out, not even caring about closing the door. I can still hear Mother sobbing for me to come back and turn on Jerry Springer. I feel so fucking retarded...why do I even bother to live in a fantasy? According to society I'm fucking white trash that doesn't have a nickel to my name. I have no use and I have no hope for a better life. My past is ugly, my present is in shambles, and my future is screwed over. Looking up into the sky, I can see only gray. "Heh, how ironic..." I mumble as I trudge on to the bus stop.
Kyle's there, along with Stan and Eric. Eric is as usual arguing with Stan about being a "fucking Goth" and Stan's making the retaliation of "You're just an ignorant fat basterd". Kyle looks up and makes eye contact with me and waves. I give a small smile but it hurts to smile so much. Glad my hood is up or they might question something. "Hi Kenny! What's up, dude?" Kyle asks cheerfully. I just shrug; I can't possibly say what's really up because he won't understand. Eric just looks at me and grunts; Stan gives me a smile. "Hey Kenny, did you get the English assignment?" Stan asks. "Write a poem on any subject..." I reply monotonously.
"There's one thing though Stan, it can't be satanic."
"What the fuck are you talking about, Cartman?"
"You know, that's what you and your Goth friends are!! Satanic basterds!"
"Go suck your mother's cock, Cartman."
"Bus!" Kyle yells to break up the fight. Stan and Eric just glance at each other and growls. Why do they even hang around each other if they just tear at each other's throat? I guess because they both know deep down we're the only things that we really have...not many people will be at our side for us. We all know that deep down, I think, but neither one of us will admit it. Because when we die...how many people do you think will even come let alone cry? Do you think...when I die, again, will they say the cliché 'Oh My God You Kill Kenny!'? Will you actually care, or are you incapable of actually caring?
School, what can you say about something that keeps you half your day to drill in facts and people and places? On the contrary, I do enjoy school. Most kids take it for granted; some actually go to a Catholic or Charter or Private school. Despite their complaints, their parents are paying for them to go, how lucky can you get? I'm only going to have high school, forget college. I'm smart but not smart enough for a full scholarship. I'm not...worthy for education.
American Literature and Art II are my favorite subjects. Stan is in Art II with me, he's crafty with a brush but he says I'm the best. I cannot say; I'm quite modest when it comes to my artwork. I want to cry when someone says "That's really good, Kenny! You're really talented! Can I buy your work?" and other compliments. I even made 10 dollars on an artwork assignment that I kid bought off me. Poetry is my forte, though. Anyone can use paint but how about putting it in words? Or, put it in words where people actually want to listen to what you have to say. Stan, Eric, and Kyle are in my class and Kyle tells me how real my poems sound.
I'm not worthy of such compliments...
When I came into the cafeteria, I found the normal table where the four of us gather. Stan and Kyle sat together and so I pulled up a seat next to Eric. He's scribbling down last night's homework quickly before next period while Stan and Kyle talk about some subject. I pull out an old candy bar from my pocket and nibble on it for what little nutrition it'll give me. Kyle eyes the candy bar and gives me a look. "Kenny, why don't you let me get you something to eat?" he asks. I eyes narrow in on the candy and then at him. Why does he think I deserve his charity? I mean, I can go steal a five off of someone easy and get food. How dare he be so...nice?
You like the fact he's nice to you, you're just a prick on accepting kindness
I am not! I just don't want to accept charity, that's all...
Come on, dipshit! You know that no one ever gives you anything so it doesn't matter
SHUT UP!
Ha! You're so coy when you yell like that...
I snap out of my enticement with myself and just shake my head. "Nah, I'm good Kyle...I'm running on adrenaline from last night..." I say for an excuse. I do remember though, it was in a restroom with a red head named Monica. It gives me a little satisfaction...and yet it makes me want to hurl. "Okay then..." I hear Kyle's reply soften. Eric looks at me and gives me a sneer. "Jesus McCormick, can your family get any poorer?" Stan and Kyle give Eric a nasty look. "Well Cartman you must have a lot of problems...it's the only reason you eat like a fat cow..." Kyle sneers. "Go suck your circumcised cock Jew!" Cartman spat. "Go back to your whore of a mother you mucus-munching porker!" Kyle sneered. "GUYS!" Stan yells, "Keep the insults to where I don't invision anything grotesque, I'm still eating!"
School's let out and hordes of teenagers rush out toward the outside world. It looks like a sheet of snow came down again today. I walk to the bus and got on without a word. I can see other kids looking at me with disgust. What the fuck did I do to them? Did I offend them for being poor? I want their looks to leave. Stan walks by and sits next to Wendy. Wendy gives me a look and then whispers something in Stan's ear. I turn my head and look out through the faded window...I don't care what the whore has to say to me. Kyle sits next to and touches my shoulder; I jumped at his touched. "Easy, Kenny! Dude, you're paler than usual...are you sure you're fine?" he inquires. I look at him; it's sickening to look at someone who is above and beyond your being. I hang my head and just shake it slowly. He doesn't look convinced but doesn't press the matter.
I got off the bus and walked over to a Hooters nearby. I spot someone I didn't "acquaint myself with" and I have a dire need to find out if she shags well. From what I see this chick has strawberry blonde hair with reddish streaks and tons of eye makeup. When she bends down her thong shows and her tits fly all over. I instinctively stroll closer, as a lion prowls on the hunt. She eyes me and gives me a menu. I follow her to a small booth and she gives me a wink. A wave of lust fills my head and nether regions...I also need some cash as well. "So...what's your name?"
I fucked her stupid...but it doesn't give me the satisfaction that I wanted. I fucked someone who I just met...actually her name was Tiffany so I know a bit about her. It doesn't affect me, fornication, STDs, or even my conscious in general. I think that it's really asleep in my screwed up head. I got out of her 12.05...not too bad for someone who wasn't that good. Besides, this is all about survival...my father will not be pleased if I don't bring home more cash. I shudder at the thought of feeling my skin against a hot heater again. I unconsciously touch my shoulder; it would show a crescent scar looping around my bone.
You know, you could just...get rid of your problem
How so?
Eliminate your parental care...that way you'll be free
Murdering someone? I am more inclined to being the one killed than being the killer...
Don't be such a pansy! You know it'll satisfy your darkest desires...
No...I can't...
You will....
Suddenly, I see two yellow eyes....
End of Chapter Two
HDM: oooouu the plot thickens for poor Kenny! Next Chapter you'll meet one of the figments that plague Kenny's brain, the infamous Clyde. Catholic Schools are the shyt…lol (randomness!) Ciao!
R&R
Advise: geese hate any imitators