Disclaimer: We do not own, as if we could own something like South Park. Shudder It's too twisted for our imaginations... but that doesn't mean we don't have fun playing with it. :D The lyrics in this chapter are from Regretting You by Dreamkaste and RENT
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Teetering over the edge, past memories and lives are stirred and a love lost can still burn brighter than any flame.
Author's Note: HERE BE SLASH, Don't like? DON'T READ!
This fic is different from other fics. Firstly, we two authors have completely different styles. Secondly, it will be dealing with past lives, if you can't handle that, please turn around or hit the back button. Thirdly, it is multipairing, so far the pairings we know will be in here are Christophe/Kyle, Stan/Wendy, Stan/Kyle, and Kenny/Rebecca. There will probably be more…
Fourthly, we know where this story ends, but we know how it gets there. We also know what we're going into; all we need to know now is how we need to get there. It'll be a bumpy ride and I hope you enjoy it.
A special shout out to Venus-gurl for reviewing!
This chapter's written by Fuzzle-foot. Enjoy!
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Chapter One – Teetering
Fan-fucking-tastic. New school, new life, and fucking hell, I can't carry my gun on my hip. Mother has taken it away from me, after that kid from my old school got his greasy hands on it.
Flashes of pain, rough as fire
Was it my fault he blew his brains out?
The time is now, time to wake up,
make a difference
Yet mother moved me back to this wretched little town and into a pathetic little school. Why does she torture me so? Did her fucking God create me to be her plaything, I think so.
Life is shit, but God is the biggest asshole of them all.
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He hated his new school; everyone looked at him as if he was a freak. He didn't dress like them, his clothes were tattered he was dirty. He didn't really care though, they were all pathetic.
Whores and sluts, all have their fun
It was sickening, everywhere he turned a couple would be making out. The French may be great lovers, but the English speaking world seemed to have humping down to an art. He was wading through sperm.
But run crying home when their work is done.
At this point in time he was ready to dismember his mother, she had opted him to do advanced French. He needed the good grade he was sure to get, but the class was horrible, not only did they not use slang, they stuck to grammar rigidly.
He wasn't even allowed to swear.
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His mother shouted at him again.
Home is worth nothing.
He said he hated her.
Love is worth nothing.
She locked him in the basement.
I am worth nothing.
He hated everything.
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There was a foul taste, in the air. It tasted like sewerage. Christophe was used to factory air or high city air, but this was the first time he thought the air tasted of sewage.
Deadly, horror.
He hated it in South Park.
Horrifying deadly.
He had never felt more out of place in his life. This town was strange, started wars, attacked by spooky animals, he remembered his childhood.
Death, chaos and his mother baking, always baking. And when she wasn't baking, she was praying. He had evaded death so many times he had lost count, and yet death seemed to hover over his shoulder, never actually touching him, just haunting him.
He would like to think of death as his friend, maybe death had an infatuation with him. It wasn't the most pleasant thought, but it empowered him. Sweet, sickening and repulsive.
He hated life.
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His girlfriend called. Not much to be said. A week away from each other and they'd lost interest.
Hot-Hot-Hot-Sweat-Sweet
He wouldn't have been bothered if she hadn't been fucking Renault on the side.
Wet-Wet-Wet-Red Heat
He hated her, loved her, and wanted her dead. Nothing would satisfy.
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The people in this town were psychopaths; one was standing on the railing of the bridge, ready to jump. Red hair flew in the wind, sickeningly pretty.
Fucking depressed, nothing to live for.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
Want you.
"Saving your life."
Want you.
"I wasn't going to jump."
I regret ever laying eyes on you
But nothing else is true
"I was trying to do you a favour. Next time you're at the brink of death I won't do anything."
I'm regretting you.
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End of chapter one! This is the longest thing I've ever written. :D Please leave a review. Chapter 2 is nearly done, but to Maggie that could mean a day or a month. She says she'll try not to be a perfectionist.
Please review!
Fuzzle-foot!