Before I forget, DISCLAIMER, I do not own South Park.

AN: Hey I'm back. Finals are over, finally a break from college. So I'm not sure how I feel about this story yet, but I would sure love to have a beta. And review are always greatly appreciated :) I found my weakness is tenses so if someone could point any of those mistakes out for me, i'd be nice. Well, hope you guys enjoy! It's a Kyle/Bebe or is it? dumdumdum All from Bebe's pov, she is rarely a main character. Warning- this is really angsty, lol. OK, here we go

"My name is Bebe- Bebe Stevens. I am... I am sev- sevente-..."

"Please Ms. Stevens. We need you to speak clearly and loudly into the tape recorder. There is nothing to be afraid of."

The officer pressed his hand down on the table, balancing his weight carefully in a powerful manner. I could feel my body shaking and my eyes tighten shut, as if I couldn't see anything it wouldn't be there.

"Muh- my- my name?"

I couldn't do it. I couldn't say the words. Not my name, but what had to come next.

"All right then miss, please take a moment to collect yourself and we will continue shortly."

They left the cold bland room. As soon as they did I couldn't hold it in anymore. I break down, like so many nights before. Tears spill out and I hold my chest, wondering: since when did it get so hard to breathe? They were probably watching me through that fake mirror up on the wall. I don't care anymore. I just don't give a damn. I've been degraded and embarrassed enough. Things can't get any worse. I bury my head in my arms, trying to push myself further into the table in hopes I'll disappear. I hear my voice crack into a howling whine and I've realized I've gotten too loud. I don't even recognize the sound. Soon my parents would be here. Who knows maybe the press will show up. This isn't what I wanted... not at all. Sure I could tell them what's been happening tonight, but they still wouldn't understand. No, to get the whole picture, I'd have to tell the entire thing.

Dear Kyle,

I haven't written to you "a letter you are never to recieve" since I was fifteen, but I figured why not. Senior year of high school- no high school in general sucked. How I missed the simple life of South Park elementary school. I took it for granted. See by then my heart bad been fucked around by guys so much that I had given up all hope. It was my fault. I'm just the type of person who is too insecure, too shy, too lonely and most of all too desperate- but you'd already know this... wouldn't you? I used to think there was someone for every one out there. Knowing you always kept up this facade in my mind.

There are different types of love and then there's romantic love. Why is it that romantic love is different from all the other types of love? All the other types of love can be shared with more than one person, but romantic love can only be shared with one person. So why is that? Then again you wouldn't want to share romantic love with more than one person or have somebody love you and another person? For me, the answer is no. So what is so special about this person and what defines love? Well, it's a mix of strong feelings. A person has to possess physical attractive qualities, chemistry, mentally clicks, etc. But what is so special about these things? Cause you can find these in more than one person. So what separates friendship from something more? This is why people date more than one person? So how does one find this person? Do people go through life not even knowing what true love is? Does each person find someone they deserve? What if that person lives on the other side of the world? Is there fate to bring those people together or is it all random chance? Also if love is unconditional and you are rejected by someone then you should continue loving them no matter what, right? The fact that you get over that person and move on, means you never really loved them truly. So love has to involve two mutual people.- And this is how I drive myself insane... There are too many unanswered questions and from personal experience love is all bullshit. All lies, all fake and only a dream, only something we can achieve by watching a hollywood movie.

If I was nothing without love, then why care if I lived at all? So I figured if I am so close to wanting death, then why not live life on the edge till then? Maybe I will actually find what I'm looking for. Maybe I won't. The life I decided to live was one that only stereotypical "bad girls" had. I wasn't one of them, but to me they looked so happy. There had to be something there. Something I was missing. See I didn't want to just "give up" and commit plain old boring angst teenage suicide. I mean why do that and be another forgotten face in a small newspaper article? I rather choose to go out in tragedy. Or at least make it look like one because I'd have this secret double life that not my family or friends would know about. Basically I wanted to go out in a blaze and that's when I met Wendy- again.

"Bebe? Bebe!"

Wendy nudged me in the side. I awoke from my daze. My mind slowly realized it was at work. There was a cash register going berserk in front of me and a long line of angry people.

"Bebe, quit day dreaming! What did you do? Kevin is going to be pissed."

I slowly began trying to remember which key I must've pressed by accident. The register kept giving off a high pitched beeping sound and it was drawing much attention. I just stood aside as Wendy tried to fix it for me. I blocked out the complaints and shouts of the customers. That's what you had to do. Learn to block it out or else you would go crying home every night, thinking what a horrible world it is we live in.

Wendy, she was my best friend in elementry school and broke up with Stan Marsh. I guess after that she didn't feel the need to continue going on to South Park High. She moved to Nebraska. We lost touch. It was the summer before senior year that my dad thought me getting a job would instill some sense of responsiblity and I found Wendy working here at the local Stop & Shop. She had gotten the job a couple of weeks before me so we sort of got trained together. She told me how her dad lost his job and they couldn't think of a better place to go, so why not move back? Apart we were innocent, but together we naturally just caused problems. Our most favorite thing to do was annoy our manager, Kevin. Like for example, taking lunch breaks at the same time even though we weren't suppose to. We honestly didn't have a lot in common anymore except we both had broken hearts and hated men with a passion. Revenge is all I wanted and she was one to help me get it. Her motto was: "Let them think they are playing you, when we'll actually be the ones having all the fun." Then she'd wink. Sometimes I don't know what I would've done withour her.

"O, shit. Here comes Kevin."

We both turn our heads and watch our manager come marching over with that scowl that's always plastered on his face.

"What did you two do now!"

I fiddled with the nametag pinned to the smock we are forced to wear, accidently pricking my pointer finger.

"I'm sorry Kevin. I must have-"

"Save it." He spats as his tall figure bends over to take a closer look at the machine. The florescent light reflected off his head, making it shiny like the recently cleaned floor.

I didn't really mean I was sorry. Wendy and I always just wanted to humor him. As he tried to console a customer, we stood behind him and snickered. We hated our job and could care less, but we needed the money.

"You're both going to be fired if you don't quit fooling around. I swear." Kevin stepped away so I could reclaim my post.

Wendy giggled, "Uh, huh Kevin. Sure you'll fire us."

"I will. You just keep it up and you'll see."

"Please Kevin, you need us." I remind him.

He shakes his head without responding and walks away. Yeah, he knows he needs us. No one else would take this job and put up with his shit. As much as it seemed we hated him, we secretly appreciated the way he also put up with us- like hell we'd ever let him find out.

It was fifteen minutes to closing and by then we were all antsy. Wendy had planned for us to go out to a bar and dance place called McAbles.

"Open bar from ten to midnight. So we have to drink up as much as we can till then. And all the underage college guys go here cause they don't ID. It'll be one sick time. So remember to skank it up." She winked at me and I laughed.

Before Wendy met me I was lost. I was depressed and didn't know what to do with myself. Then one night she dressed me up and took me out clubbing and from then on history was made. We were two infamous girls out to get trashed and fucked and perhaps get away with murder- ok well maybe not that far. In all truthfulness we were simply wannabe pair of Thelma and Louise. No one had to know though. We could pretend to be whoever we wanted and people bought it.

"Where you going tonight pumpkin?"

My dad, Doctor Stevens, sat in the arm chair watching some special on the Discovery Channel.

"I'm not coming back till tomorrow daddy. I'm sleeping over Wendy's house."

"O, that friend from work?" His eyes never left the screen, as if the TV was telling him something about the dinosaurs he didn't already know after watching it for the millionth time.

"Yup."

"Does your mom know?"

"Yeah."

"All right then, have fun."

It was that easy. Technically I wasn't lying. I was sleeping over Wendy's house- just after we went to that bar.

I heard a car honk serveral times and grabbed my purse and coat, while slipping on my shoes.

"Bye dad!" I ran out to meet Wendy. She was sitting in the drivers seat of her mom's crappy Mazda sedan. It was like driving a tin can around, but it was better then no ride at all.

"Love your outfit." I told her, noting her tank top and black lace skirt as I slid into the passenger seat.

"Likewise. Now let's go." She lit up a cigarrette and offered me one. I waved my hand away. Wendy knows I'm a drinker, not a smoker, but she still insists on offering me everytime.

The car puttered off towards the main road and I fired up the radio.