"Kyle."
Who was that? Kyle turned around in the darkness that surrounded him, "Who's out there?!"
He then heard footsteps, he turned around again, trying to find whoever was with him wherever they were. "Kyle."
He turned once again and saw a figure walking up to him, his body tensed up as he watched the figure walk closer, but when he was only a few feet away he saw his face, and it was one he would have never expected.
"Morgan Freemen?"
"Hello, Kyle."
The redheaded teen blinked at the man, he was so confused, "Where are we? Why am I here? Why are you here?"
"You were in an accident Kyle, and we are currently in your subconscious."
A look of confusion washed over his face before it morphed into realization, only to turn back into confusion as he looked up at the man, "So why are you here?"
"Anytime I explain anything complicated, I earn another freckle."
The redhead blinked again, still very confused about the presence of the man before him. "I take it you're new to South Park, well I'll let you know that this is a rather common occurrence in this town."
So South Park really was weird, guess Stan and the others weren't lying when they said a lot of strange stuff happens around here. "Okay so I'm here in my subconscious, with you, but why are we here then, wouldn't I just be sleeping like a normal person if I was knocked out?"
"That tends to vary, but for you, you are going on a trip down memory lane."
"What?"
"We're going to go through your memories, Kyle."
Kyle's body was stiff, he didn't want to, "Why, what's that going to do?"
"Who knows." He then turned away from the teen and the blackness that surrounded them changed, it faded into a small house's living room. Recognition filled Kyle's eyes, "The house from Ohio..."
There were then the sounds of a slamming door. The teen looked over at the opening to the kitchen and there he saw himself, well his younger, twelve-year-old self. He was storming towards the stairs and he saw his mother right behind him with a furious look in her eye. He knew what this was, he knew this day, and had happened, and what was going to happen.
He had gotten into another fight at school and was suspended for the rest of the week, he didn't remember why he got into that fight, the other kid must've just pissed him off for one reason or another, but he knew there was an argument but he didn't remember what was yelled, not really, however, he expected to hear his mother's shrill yell, but when she opened her mouth but anything she said sounded like she was screaming underwater, he couldn't make anything out. He tilted his head in slight confusion as both his mother and his younger self were yelling at one another but he couldn't understand any of it. "You don't remember what was said, that's why you can't understand them."
He guessed that it'd make sense, but yeah, he didn't know the words, but he knew it had to do with his behavior and how it wasn't acceptable or something. "Why bring me to this day?"
Morgan looked over at the teen who had a despairing look in his eye, "I believe you know why."
The young Kyle's garble of words screeched as he then turned and ran up the stairs, the teen frowned but followed up the stairs, there was some nostalgia looking back in this old house, but he couldn't stand and dwell, as he walked past his old bedroom door and down to the small door at the end of the hall, it led up to the attic.
He remembered how he'd go up there rather than his own room, as it was farther away from the rest of the rooms in the house, so it was farther away from his parents. He seemed to faze through the doorknob when he reached to open it, he then pressed his hand against the wooden door which his hand fazed through. With that new information, he stepped through the door and walked up the narrow stairwell and on the old wooden planks that were the stairs.
He walked up the stairs and into the small room that was the attic, boxes were stacked everywhere and it was a very disorganized mess. Kyle walked around the mess of boxes till he found his younger-self curled up on a blanket on the floor, the teen sighed as he kneeled down on the blanket next to his younger self, he may not remember the words of the fight, but everything after was clear as day.
"Stupid mom, stupid Travis, stupid school!"
His younger-self kicked a box, causing it to topple over and spill its contents. "Fuck..."
Kyle watched as the twelve-year-old crawled over and started to toss the items back into the box only to stop when he saw an old faded red book. He looked over it and saw his grandmother's name written on the front.
The redhead never got to know his grandmother, he was very young when his parents moved out of his mom's parent's house, but it wasn't long after that she had passed. This piqued his curiosity a bit, and hopefully would provide a distraction, so he opened the book and started to read, it was rather boring at first, as this must have started when she met her husband, but soon it got to her becoming a mother to his own mom. It was still rather dull, but when his mom got into her tween and teen years did things take a turn.
She was a handful, they would fight and argue, Sheila apparently even threw things at her parents, she was a nightmare. The book would go on to say on about she didn't think she could handle it for much longer, and how some nights she'd cry herself to sleep, believing she's failed her child.
Was he doing this?
Was he causing his mother grief like she caused her own?
Kyle watched as his younger-self put the book back and curled back up on the blanket. He could feel the twisting feeling of his insides, the day he came to the conclusion that he was nothing more than a burden.
Morgan Freeman then appeared behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder, then their surroundings changed, they were in the living room, this was some days after that incident, and his younger-self was sitting on the couch with his chin rested in his hand and his eyes were blankly staring at the carpet as he was absentmindedly picking fuzz off the couch's arm.
On occasion, he'd catch his father glancing over at him, but he didn't say anything and just went back to watching the tv. What was he expecting? His father to ask if he was okay? Did he even notice that he felt like crap? Did he even care?
The tween let out a sigh as he continued to pick the fuzz, the room was only filled with sounds from the tv.
They didn't care about how he felt.
Kyle turned his head away from his younger self, if he's honest, there isn't a lot of days after this where he was really truly happy. It was easy faking a smile for his 'friends', and even if he did show them any vulnerability they would've laughed at him. He even did the same at home after around a week, and his parents never questioned it. The only time they ever called him out on his behavior was when it appeared to be unfavorable to what they want him to act.
"Your parents neglected your feelings and never seemed to try and understand things from your point of view. You believe that this was due to you were not the perfect child in their eyes, correct?"
The teen's eyes glanced back at the smaller version of himself, but gave the celebrity a nod, "Yeah."
Morgan Freeman nodded, "Why don't we continue on?"
Their surroundings then changed.
They were in a small living room with white walls and the furniture was close together, as there wasn't much room, to begin with, "Missouri?"
He then looked over at the front door when he heard a noise coming from the other side, after some uneven footsteps and jiggling from the doorknob, the wooden door opened revealing a fourteen-year-old Kyle, stumbling through and quietly closing the door. His eyes weren't focusing and he looked like he was about to drop.
"Why this one?"
Morgan didn't answer but they followed the obviously drunk young teen up the stairs, as he was walking over to his room he stopped and looked at the door that was slightly ajar as he heard the sound of quiet sobbing. The older teen watched as his younger self walked into the room and looked at the mound on the bed.
His younger self let out a sigh as he asked, "Ike? What's wrong?"
The crying stopped and two watery blue eyes peaked out from under the covers, "K-Kyle?"
It had been a week since his family adopted the Canadien nine-year-old boy, and he hasn't really interacted with him much, well until now that is.
Ike barely held back another sob as he tried to say that he was okay, but the other didn't buy it. "Nightmare?"
The black-haired boy looked away but nodded, Kyle sighed again and walked over, "Move over."
"What?"
"Move over."
Ike frowned but scooted closer to the wall, and Kyle slid under the blanket and wrapped his arms around the younger boy, pulling him close to his chest, "Try sleepin' now."
The boy blinked and clutched his stuffed moose that their parents gave him on his first day, but snuggled closer into his new brother's chest, and was able to fall asleep. Kyle had already passed out by then.
"This was the first time you truly connected with your brother?"
Kyle had a nostalgic smile on his face after watching the scene, "Yeah."
The surroundings then started to change, but it didn't stay the same as it seemed to constantly be shifting, shifting to moments between him and Ike, from the blanket forts they'd build, to Kyle teaching Ike how to drive his bike, and when he'd stand up for Ike against bullies who'd tease him for being younger but being able to skip into higher grades. These were all good moments.
"So you two are close?"
The redhead glanced at the older man, "He's my brother, I'd do anything for him."
"I see."
Kyle frowned at that but the changing of the scenery then stopped and they were back in the empty black void. "Why are we doing this? What's the point?"
Morgan Freeman didn't say anything as the surroundings changed once again. They were now in a crowded house with a lot of teens dancing to loud music. The teen blinked looked around confused, he didn't remember this party, then again he's been to a lot.
He glanced over at the older man only to see that he was gone. He gave an annoyed growl as he stalked off, he guessed he'd have to watch this event play out as well, maybe he'll wake up after this. He stopped.
That's right he was probably in the hospital, well that is if anyone found and bothered to bring him there. He shook his head at the thought, he didn't need to be thinking about that now, not when that first memory sliced into an old wound that he thought was buried.
He let out a sigh as he continued to faze through the faceless people who were dancing about.
This wasn't making any sense, why was he having to deal with this? Do all people in South Park deal with this? Or something like it? He let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair, he didn't even know when or where he was, he has gone to who knows how many parties over the years and many have just seemed to blend together into a mess of his memories.
Maybe that's what this party was, a collage of all his past parties.
"Hey, Kylie-B~."
He stopped at the sound of a familiar voice, he turned around and saw a twelve-year-old long-haired brunet girl with his twelve-year-old self, who looked rather out of it. This must've been not long after that one fight with his mom.
Oh.
This was that night he lost his virginity. He frowned at the two tweens, Sasha, she was his first actual girlfriend, and she broke up with him just a couple of days later. He shook his head, that was a mistake.
Opening his eyes he saw that the two tweens were gone. He blinked and looked around the room and there on the couch was him with another girl, Taylor, short brown hair, they were thirteen.
She moved one day and didn't even tell him goodbye. That must've been his first real heartbreak, as he thought she cared.
They vanished when he blinked and suddenly he was in a kitchen, his fourteen-year-old self was leaning on a wall flirting with another fourteen-year-old boy with brown hair. Austin, his first boyfriend once he realized that he also liked boys just as much as girls. They broke up as they went into the next school year, the reasoning was fuzzy, but he believed it was more mutual than anything as they went their separate ways.
Another blink and he was standing in a bathroom his younger fifteen-year-old self and Jenny sucking face. He rolled his eyes and glared at the girl, after learning that she and someone tried to set him up as a manipulative asshole he could care less about his time with her. All the time with her was nothing but a bitter taste in his mouth.
Then another, but what he saw made his blood run cold.
His sixteen-year-old self was sitting next to a blond older boy, Dallas, Dallas was nineteen in his first year of college. His younger-self was looking down at his phone, clearly uninterested in what was happening, he watched as the older teen placed a hand on his thigh, his younger self looked up gave a small smile, but it was sort of forced.
This was some months into their relationship. Kyle's eyes swept over and he saw the few bruises that peaked out from under his sleeves. He felt his heart shutter, not this, why did was he brought here? He shook his head at the sight and tried to back away only to run into a wall that wasn't there before, looking behind him and looking forward again he saw Dallas on top of him, his younger-self had a pained expression on his face.
"Stop it."
The scene continued.
"Stop it!" He cried as he grabbed at his hair, and clenched his eyes closed. He didn't want to see this.
He backed into the wall again and kept his eyes shut, but he could see blaring strobe lights under his closed lids.
He didn't want to see this.
He didn't want to remember him.
He then felt something tap his shoulder, but he didn't want to look. What if he saw something else. Dallas did so much and so many things to him. He didn't want to see, he spent so much of his time after he was able to walk away trying to force down every memory and every feeling with him. He didn't want what he did to him to affect him. He couldn't let people see how he was fucked up, or how he was messed up by him.
He thought Dallas loved him.
It was a lie.
It was a show.
But he kept acting like things were okay, at times he felt like he was okay, and that Dallas didn't mess him up. But he was, but he kept it covered, hell even his own thoughts did the same, but deep down, he was hurt and broken from him, and he didn't reach out, he thought he could handle it, and he thought he forgot him, really he did. However, that wasn't the case, was it?
Behind his eyelids, he could see each one of his ex's faces. They kept morphing from one face to the next. They were taunting him. They were laughing at him!
Laughing at how fucked up his life has made him, his parents, his exes, those kids and teachers from schools, and how much he regrets so much of it.
He felt another tap on his shoulder, he peeked open one of his eyes open and saw Morgan Freeman standing there, they were standing in the darkness again. Slowly and shakily he opened his eyes and brought his hands down to his sides. "Do you see now Kyle?"
The teen's eyes narrowed at the man, "See what? That I'm a fucking mess?!"
"That you shouldn't bottle up your emotions, that you can be vulnerable."
Kyle bared his teeth at the man and growled, "Is this some sick fucking joke to you."
Morgan Freeman sighed and shook his head, "You need to understand Kyle, according to the writer of your story, you need to suffer before you can be happy."
The teen's face morphed into that of utter confusion, "What?"
There then was a distant ringing sound, causing the older man to look over his shoulder. "Well, looks like my time is up."
He started to walk away, "Wait, where are you going?!"
The man didn't even stop to answer, "You're about to wake up Kyle, I hope you learned something from this."
Before Kyle could say or do anything, everything went white.
Hey guys, sorry it's been a while, life has been going on. I hope you guys are doing well and I'm thankful for those who have stuck with me for so long, and I hope you like Kylie-B's history. Until next time!