Wendy didn't even have time to slip her shoes off before her dad barged in. Wendy just sighed and flopped down on her bed, waiting for the storm to come.
"You were going to sneak out with that boy!" Her father accused. He wasn't wrong, Wendy visibly cringed. "Don't bother to answer that," he continued, "We're grounding you for another week. Got it?"
Wendy just groaned as her dad shut her door. What was happening to her? She looked down at her phone, two new messages from Kenny. She set her phone down on its charging pad and rubbed her temples. If it wasn't for Kenny she wouldn't have been grounded in the first place.
She never got into trouble like this when she was dating Stan.
Wendy was so focused on school, now she was focused on Kenny. She decided it was time to get her life back on track.
Maybe Bebe was right, maybe he is bad for me.
She stared out through the open blinds. She wondered what Stan was doing right now. It was Wednesday so he was probably already sound asleep. He always did like to go to bed early. Wendy smiled softly, a fond memory of sleeping snuggled up with Stan crept into her mind.
Wendy missed Stan. She wished he wasn't an alcoholic. She hoped he wasn't drinking.
•••
The next morning Kenny pulled into the school parking lot five minutes before class started. He figured that was a new record. He walked into the school and it seemed quiet, the halls seemed more vacant than usual. He walked down the hall towards his first class, seeing Craig and Clyde waiting in the hall. "What's up guys?" Kenny asked he could tell the other two were already blitzed.
"Don't things seem quieter today?" Clyde questioned immediately. He never missed a chance to point out the obvious.
Craig shrugged, "There's probably something going on that we forgot about today." He suggested. The bell rang and they headed into class. The weirdness didn't stop there.
The class was about half the size it usually was. Kenny looked around he didn't see Kyle anywhere. Kyle never missed school, what was up? Kenny noticed Stan wasn't around either, maybe it was a little more likely he'd miss school.
Kenny pulled a notebook out of his bag and glanced at the clock. He sighed, wishing to be anywhere else except here. He wondered where everyone else was. There was no teacher in sight so Kenny pulled out his phone. He opened it and looked at his messages, still no reply from Wendy. He wondered if she was okay, and if she was on the mystery field trip half of the school seemed to be on.
The teacher finally appeared in front of the class. She looked tired and a bit sad. The morning announcements started, coming in over the loudspeaker.
"Cows..." the principal started out, calling all the students by their mascot. The South Park cows, it had been the same since elementary school. The principal's voice sounded soft and far away. "It breaks my heart to announce that last night we lost one of our cow family."
Kenny's breath caught in his throat. He'd never heard this announcement first hand. He'd heard snippets of them from the afterlife, them always announcing that he'd died. But Kenny wasn't dead, was he? He touched his arm, he felt very much alive.
"Stan Marsh passed away last night..." The announcement continued but Kenny stopped listening after they'd announced Stan's name.
He turned his head to look at Craig. "Stan's dead?" Kenny echoed, almost like a question.
"Yeah I heard he killed himself." Whispered a girl sitting near them.
"He killed himself," Kenny stated again, he was in disbelief.
"Yeah it's probably because you stole his girl, bro," Craig said, monotone as ever.
Kenny just stared at him. How could he joke about that? "That's not fucking funny, Craig." He reached down to grab his backpack. This definitely had something to do with him and Wendy, he was sure of it. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." Kenny breathed, "it's probably true, dude. I can't believe this is real."
He pulled out his phone again looking at his messages to Wendy. He texted again, "Hey, are you doing okay?"
Kenny stood up, "I need a moment guys, I've got to clear my mind. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can't help but think this is partially my fault." He threw his bag over his shoulder and walked out of the classroom.
The teacher didn't even try to stop him. Out in the halls there were kids still wandering around. Everyone knew Stan. The school barely had three hundred people. People were streaming into the counselor's office, tears in a lot of their eyes. Kenny just walked by it all, outside into the cold biting air.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket, still open to the messages between him and Wendy, still no response but he saw that she read it. He began to type something else out. He wanted to say sorry but he didn't know how.
Kenny was engrossed in thought, trying to find the perfect words to say to Wendy. What do you say to someone who's ex just died most likely because of you, Kenny wondered. He wondered if he hadn't talked to Wendy that night of the party if any of this would be happening. Maybe Bebe was right. Maybe this relationship really was bad.
Kenny was staring at his phone, still walking to his car. "Oh god, oh god, oh god." He mumbled as he tried to type with his frozen fingers. Suddenly Kenny felt a sharp pain from the side. He felt like he was flying and for a second all he saw was black, then suddenly there was a flash of brilliant white.
Kenny knew this feeling all too well. He was dying, he was dead. Why did he have to go right now?
•••
Wendy had been up all night, or so she felt like. She learned about Stan passing in the middle of the night when it happened. The news came in the form of a call from Mrs. Marsh. She thought Wendy would want to know, they were so close for so long.
At first all Wendy could do was cry. She cried until she couldn't cry anymore then she stared outside until she saw the sun come up. She couldn't stop imagining Stan, probably wasted, sad, and alone, in the middle of the night, pushed to the absolute edge.
She stared outside at the snow that glistened on the trees. It looked so peaceful and still, the complete opposite of what she was feeling. Wendy couldn't bring herself to do anything else. She hadn't stood up or even ran a hand through her hair to smooth it down. She knew she looked like a mess.
Wendy's eyes burned, she felt unaware of time moving around her. She still had feelings for Stan, she couldn't even deny it now. They had only been broken up for a few weeks. She was still in love or something. Wendy wasn't sure what was wrong with her.
Why did Stan have to drink so much?
Maybe if he hadn't drank they would've still been together and Stan would've been alive. Wendy blamed herself, even though she knew she shouldn't. Their relationship made her miserable at times but all she could think about was the good times.
Her mind played through all the good memories. She remembering being in elementary school with Stan. They said they were dating, but neither of them knew what dating and love really were.
Wendy remembered all the times Stan tried to kiss her, effectively puking all over himself in the process. In 5th grade Wendy had drummed him for sitting next to another girl at lunch. She sighed to herself, smiling softly. How naive they had been as kids.
Stan officially asked her out in ninth grade. Of course Wendy said yes, she'd secretly been pining after him ever since they broke up.
At first their relationship was good. Wendy still played volleyball in ninth grade. Stan showed up to every game, he was always her biggest fan. They would walk to the ice cream shop after her games and Stan would buy them ice cream then they'd sit on a bench and talk until one fo their parents came to pick them up.
Things took a turn in tenth grade though. Wendy was focused on school, she was running to be the class president, taking all honors. She thought Stan couldn't keep up with her. Their first breakup happened when Wendy kissed Stan and he reeked like alcohol.
Stan wouldn't let her get away though. He promised to stop drinking, he cried and begged Wendy to take him back. He always called them soulmates. He was convinced they were supposed to be together forever, and she started to believe it too.
The next section of their relationship was rocky. Wendy wanted Stan to change and Stan tried. He drank less, he held her hand, he bought her flowers. They took long drives at sunset through the mountains and had picnics at campsites.
She recalled sitting on a picnic blanket in a long sundress, long hair blowing slightly in the breeze. Stans fingers were wrapped around hers and they lay on their backs watching the clouds. For a moment she felt like she was there again. Listening to him point out the clouds, trying to name them. She always had to correct him.
Wendy was crying again, tears pouring out of her eyes. She felt unable to catch her breath.
This was her fault.
She couldn't think about the bad times. Her mind blocked them out. She forgot all about the screaming matches, the drinking, the breaking up every other week. She forgot about how he pulled her focus away from school and forced her to spend all her time worrying about him and saving his ass when he was wasted on the side of the street.
Wendy wanted to remember the good times instead. She wanted to remember the warm hugs, the way Stan smelled like bergamot and a soft tinge of alcohol.
Her heart broke as she remembered the way she left him at the party. Drunk and alone, she broke his heart, this was her fault-
A notification bell sliced through her thoughts. She picked up her phone, briefly hoping it was Stan saying he was alright. It was Kenny, she set her phone down.
This was her fault. This was Kenny's fault. They were to blame. She wailed softly, covering her mouth. What if she had been less cold? What if she hadn't broken up with him? What if she hadn't thrown herself into the arms of the first man who showed her compassion?
Wendy wept softly in her bed and she thought of all the what if's.
•••
When Kenny could open his eyes again he was standing at the gates of hell. It was nothing he hadn't seen before. He groaned, why did he have to die right now? He turned his head up. The sky was filled with fire and red clouds, there was no talking to Wendy now.
Kenny slinked in passed the line of people waiting to be eternally tortured. He was a VIP at this point. Hell wasn't all that bad, he wished he could tell the people that we're praying and pleading to be taken to heaven. Hell was just where all the normal people went. Heaven was only for Mormons, Kenny had been there once by mistake. It was awful.
Inside nothing had changed since last time he was there. There was litter in the streets and shacked lined up with stray hell hounds barking. Hell was no paradise. Kenny thought it was only slightly worse than the real world though. It was uncomfortably hot all the time. Hot enough to make you sweat, which Kenny didn't understand was a thing in the afterlife. I guess you had to be tortured somehow.
People gave in to their desires for lust, greed and wrath. Things were broken, people were glutinous and rude, everything you had from you would be stolen. If you got too out of line though you were tortured, never for long though. At least, that's what Satan said anyways.
Kenny didn't live amongst the barracks of billions of people forgotten to history though. He waltzed up to Satan's castle like he owned the place and knocked on the door.
Damien answered. He grinned, "Kenny, long time no see." He pulled him inside and shut the door. The house was cool, air-conditioned. Damien was Satan's son. He and Kenny were friends before he returned to Hell and every time Kenny came back he would hang out with him. Damien could've come to earth too if he wanted. He insisted he stay in hell though, he said sleeping without the sounds of screams outside was hard.
"Hey man." Kenny smiled, "How's it been?"
"Same old, same old. I'm happy to see you though, things were starting to get lonely. Dad's been working all the time, death doesn't stop." Damien laughed dryly, letting Kenny inside.
It was cool inside, a nice escape from the heat outside. "Yeah I bet." Kenny walked into the foyer and turned to face Damien. "I don't even know what happened to me this time." He grinned.
"Let's find out." Damien lead Kenny to the living room. Inside there was a massive TV, but it's the only purpose was to replay deaths. It was lifelike and hyper-realistic, Kenny wished it played movies.
Damien picked up the remote and pushed a few buttons and then Kenny appeared on the screen. He was walking through the school hallway, his phone in his hand. He walked outside, he never looked up from his phone. His face was worried and his brow was furrowed in concentration. Without thinking Kenny wandered into the street, he didn't even notice the truck racing towards him.
Kenny looked away as the truck made an impact. He used to watch his deaths, but he'd seen himself ripped apart too many times. He didn't know if he could stomach it at the moment.
Damien inhaled sharply, "That's nasty dude. I'd hate to be the one who had to clean that up."
Kenny just shook his head. He knew when he returned nothing would have changed. No one would remember cleaning up his blood off the sidewalk and the truck owner would forget how he got the dent in his car.
"What were you looking at so intensely on your phone?" Damien questioned, he turned the TV off.
Kenny looked at him, "I was texting a girl I know. Our friend died..." he trailed off.
"Damn, who was it?" Damien asked, "Someone I know?"
"Stan Marsh," Kenny said, he glanced outside. He wondered if Stan was out there right now. He wondered if he'd settled into his new forever home. A small shack with nothing to do. Hell really was miserable, but at least there were other people around.
Before Kenny knew it Damien had Stan pulled up on the screen, he was sitting at his desk writing on something. He looked so calm. Kenny's gut clenched, "Turn it off dude, I can't watch this."
"Aww, why not?" Damien asked. For Kenny's sake he paused it.
"I just don't want to see him die." He looked down, he felt sick. His feelings intensified, "I'm gonna be sick." He stood up and ran to the bathroom.
Kenny vomited over and over again until bile was all that came out. His stomach kept contracting again and again. Every ailment you felt in hell was amplified. Anything could happen to you. Any sickness, any pain, even mental illnesses, and when you got one it was the most intense it could be. The people had to suffer some way he figured, he just wished you were thrown in a fire pit instead, this was a lot worse.
Kenny laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. The ceiling was deep red with gothic designs on it. He closed his eyes and caught his breath as he waited for the feeling to pass. "God, I've gotta get home." He moaned. He was missing work today. He prayed he wouldn't get fired.
Kenny's mind drifted to Wendy. He wondered if she had ever texted him back. He hoped she did.
A loud knock at the door made him jump. "You good?" It was Damien.
Kenny groaned and stood up, opening the door. "Yeah man, I'm fine." He walked out of the bathroom, he felt faint. "Just got sick, you know how it is."
Standing next to Damien was Pip. Kenny assumed Pip was Damien's only friend. He supposed it was hard to make friends in hell when you were Satan's son.
"How do you do, Kenny?" Pip asked.
"Not great." Kenny glances between the pair. He wondered if when he died for good they would hang out still. His deaths had become more and more infrequent with age. This was the first time he'd died in months.
"Are you going to divulge us with the trails of life on earth?" Pip questioned again, expectantly.
"Yeah, it's a long story. Can we get something to eat?" He asked. He was grateful that he was Damien's friend. Satan's house was the only place to get good food in Hell.
"Of course, but we want every detail." Damien grinned as he lead them to the kitchen.
•••
Wendy's week had flown by. She didn't go to school, she barely got out of bed. Saturday was Stan's funeral. Mrs. Marsh had invited her of course, Wendy had agreed to go. Most of the school was going to be there anyway. It was Friday night, she'd usually be hanging out with Bebe and Red right now but instead she was sitting alone in her room.
She glanced at her phone. She had never gotten a reply from Kenny. Maybe that was a good thing though, she had asked for some space. Kenny wasn't the type to not text back, he'd never even opened the message. Wendy worried briefly that Kenny was mad at her, but her mind soon drifted away from the thought.
Stan's death was still weighing heavily on her mind. She wondered if there was something she could've done.
There was a soft knock on her door. "Come in." She called out, pulling the covers up even more. To her surprise Bebe and Red walked in.
"Hey!" Bebe said, she smiled. "We brought you a surprise!" She and Red pulled a cake box out from behind them and opened it. It was red velvet, Wendy's favorite.
She smiled softly, "Thanks guys, this is so sweet." The walked over to her bed and sat down on the edge of it. The set the cake down and handed Wendy a fork.
"We thought we could all just dig into it." Bebe shrugged, "It's mostly for you anyways, you know I hate red velvet."
Wendy sunk her for into the cake and grabbed a piece. It was the best thing she'd tasted in a while.
"So... how've you been?" Red asked Wendy. Red took a bite of cake too.
"The same." Wendy sighed, "I've just been relaxing. I'm feeling better every day."
They sat in silence while she and Red at the cake. It felt nice to be with them, it felt normal.
"I just can't believe he's dead..." Wendy finally said tears pricked her eyes. "I know we were broken up, but I just can't believe he's really gone."
Bebe put her arm around her and pulled her close, rubbing her shoulder. "Wendy, I'm so sorry." There was not much else to say.
Wendy cried, "I just can't believe he's gone. Part of me thinks he's gonna walk back into school next week and ask me to get back with him."
Bebe and Red exchanged glanced as Wendy continued, "Maybe if I hadn't broken up with him on New Years he would still be here. I can't help but put some of the blame on myself."
"Wendy..." Red started softly, "You and Stan broke up for a reason. You can't blame yourself for this."
"She's right Wendy. Stan was an alcoholic, he was holding you back. It's not your fault that he died, he made his own choices. Don't you remember, he was awful to you sometimes? He would-"
"Shut up Bebe!" Wendy said, it was forceful. "Don't talk about him like that!" She broke down crying again, harder this time. The tears flowed freely from her eyes. "Stan wasn't perfect, he didn't deserve to die. This is my fault. This is because I hurt him, can't you see that?" Her voice was desperate.
"Wendy, that's not true." Bebe frowned, she pulled her close again, hugging her.
"Wendy you loved Stan with all your heart. You always gave your whole heart to him. I think what Bebe is trying to say is that sometimes he didn't fully give his heart back to you. You deserve the world, Wendy." Red said softly, she reached out and squeezed Wendy's hand reassuringly. "We're here for you."
Wendy dried her eyes, "Thanks girls. I just need to get my mind off things."
"That's why we're here!" Bebe said happily, "Just let us know what you want to do tonight, it's all up to you."
"I just want to get my mind off things. I've been laying in bed all day." Wendy took another bite of cake. She didn't want to admit it but this was the first thing she'd eaten all day. She hardly ate when she was upset. "How are things at school?" She asked.
"They're the same. Nothing really changed, I haven't seen Kyle at all though." Bebe sighed, she still had a huge crush on Kyle.
Wendy has thought about telling Bebe that Kyle was gay, she'd been debating it ever since she learned about it from Kenny, but in the end she decided it would be better to keep her mouth shut. Bebe wasn't the best at keep secrets after all.
"Have you seen Kenny at all?" Wendy asked, suddenly remembering the unanswered text she'd sent to him.
"Nope, he hasn't been around either." Bebe shrugged nonchalantly.
"I wonder if it's because of... well, you know." Wendy looked down. Where was Kenny? She wondered if he was at home too. Maybe he felt guilty as well.
"I don't even know why you care about him like that, Wendy." Bebe said, "He's Kenny. You need to get out now before your heart's broken."
Wendy didn't say anything in response. Maybe Bebe was right, but still she felt something with Kenny that she hadn't felt before. She didn't want to consider the possibility that Kenny just saw her as another fling.
"Maybe Kenny's changed. I mean, how well do you really know him?" Red said after a moment of silence. "Just because you two hooked up a few times doesn't mean you know every aspect of his personality. Maybe Kenny wants more from Wendy than just her pussy."
Bebe snorted, "You are talking about Kenny McCormick right? Fat chance. All that boy wants is something to fuck. He'll fuck anything that moves."
"And you won't?" Wendy retorted, starting to get annoyed by Bebe speaking so poorly about him.
"I never said that." Bebe's voice was annoyed. "Look Wendy I'm just trying to look out for you. Kenny is bad news."
Wendy I hated deeply and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Bebe I know you have good intentions but I can look out for myself."
"Wendy's right, you know," Red added.
"Well what if I told you Kenny wasn't that committed to you? I've been waiting to tell you this honesty, it's been weighing on my heart. I didn't want to crush your heart, especially now after, well you know. But I've got to tell you-"
"Spit it out Bebe." Wendy interrupted. She didn't want to hear Bebe's long speech. Bebe's voice sounded weird to Wendy. Something seemed a little off. Wendy looked right at Bebe, expectantly waiting for her to share her news.
Bebe's eyes drifted away from Wendy's as she started talking. "Well you see the other day at school I was talking to Kenny in the hallway. Well things kind of escalated quickly, I mean we do have some attraction there and long story short he started to beg me for a blow job. Oh Wendy I felt so bad. You know I'm weak though, he wouldn't stop asking me for one. He kept telling me how he missed my blowjobs and shit. I mean, I sucked his dick, but I felt bad. I was waiting for the right time to tell you. Kenny is a dog. He's just horny."
"Oh." That was all Wendy could say. Her mind raced, maybe she didn't know Kenny as well as she thought. "He really begged you for one? You sucked his dick in the hallway?" Wendy questioned, she raised an eyebrow.
"No, of course not! We snuck into the bathroom and did it there. I'm sorry Wendy, I was just waiting for the right time to tell you. Kenny can't commit, if I hadn't given him a blowjob he def would've just asked someone else." Bebe continued, "Kenny's just not right for you. Who knows who else he's been sucking and fucking with." Bebe shrugged so nonchalantly.
Wendy felt tears prick her eyes again. Part of her was hurt that Bebe would even go through with sucking Kenny's dick, didn't she know she had a crush on him? On the other hand if Kenny really was begging Bebe to do it, maybe Bebe wasn't really the one to blame.
"I'm so sorry Wendy. I wanted to tell you sooner but with everything that happened I was just looking for the right time." She explained further.
Red just say by quietly, glancing between her two friends. Wendy just looked down and stared at her bed.
"Are you okay?" Bebe asked.
"I think it's time for you guys to go. I'd just really like to be alone right now." Wendy said without looking up.
Red stood up. Bebe continued sitting down, "Look Wendy I didn't mean to upset you-"
"Haven't you done enough?" Red snapped, quite forcefully too. Wendy was crying silently. Tears dropped from her face. "Let's go, Bebe." Red was glaring at her. Bebe slowly stood up, glancing at Wendy again.
Red and Bebe walked out of Wendy's room. Wendy looked up after they'd left. She let out a soft wail. Her mind was working overtime right now. How could Kenny do that to her? She really thought they had something special going on. How could Bebe go through with that?
Wendy clutched her chest. Why was this happening to her? Her whole world had been flipped upside down in a matter of days. She'd lost her first love and now she felt she'd lost a budding romance too. There was nothing left to do that night except for cry.
