Finally, my internet's working again! I've had this typed for a couple days now, but my internet connection is REALLY unreliable, so I couldn't post this till today. This is probably the longest chapter I've written, so far.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXI enter the house and see my brother sitting down on the couch, staring at the TV, as always. It wasn't even on (Dad couldn't pay the electricity bills again), but he was looking at it with this fascinated expression on his face, like it was the most interesting thing. I felt the old, familiar anger that I always did whenever I looked at my brother. This was all her fault. Mom had known when she was pregnant with my brother, but I guess she didn't care, coz she drank like she always did. Now, because of her, Kevin had turned out mentally handicapped—retarded, as Dad liked to call him.
I walk in front of him, blocking his view of the TV, and waved a hand in front of his face. He merely grunted and tried to shove me out of his way, but missed. I sigh and turn away, deciding to go back to my room. He's always been like that; it's hopeless to try and get him to do something besides watching a blank television screen all day.
I open my closet, looking for something to change into. There's nothing. Everything is either torn to the point where even rags look better, or so dirty that I'd rather just stay in the clothes I'm already wearing.
I seriously hate my life at home. It probably sounds all emo and crap, but it's the truth. I hate having a retarded brother who never does anything, hate having a dad who's always drunk, hate having a mom who's so fucking violent and always screaming obscenities at me and Dad, but most of all I HATE being called a poor piece of white trash and living in the poorest part of the neighborhood.
"Kenny!" I hear my Mom shrieking from the kitchen. I close my eyes and groan. Not again… I stepped outside my room, the only place where I could feel at ease in the entire house. When I walked inside the kitchen, Mom sees me and goes off on one of her rants. Hers even beats Kyle's, which, in this case, is not a good thing.
"Vy the hell isn't there any food in the fridge? How many fuckhing times do I haf to tell you, bring back food or don't bother cohming back! Hior just like your father, hiou uselesh piece of—" I don't say anything; just tried to think of other things instead, so I could tune her voice out. It works for a few seconds, until she decides to slap me on the face, hard.
"Are you lishening to me, boy? I said hon't come bak till you get a job and make shom monhey! You think you can just fuckhing lie around here all day, like your lazy ash broher?" She takes a swig out of the bottle she's holding in her hand. It's almost empty, and I see a couple more bottles of vodka lying on the counter behind her.
"I'm fifteen, Mom. I can't work until I'm sixteen, it's the law." I try to keep my voice and face expressionless; I don't want her to know how I'm feeling, how much I hated her. I try not to choke as I swallow some blood that's inside my mouth, from her slap.
"You think I carrre? You know how old I wazz when I started worhing? Twelf! And hou, already fifteen and you haven't even made a dime! You're more trouble than you're worth, like yorr son of a bitch father!" Her words are slurred and I make a face at the smell of her breath. It reeks of booze and smoke. Sometimes I'm not sure which one gets drunk more often, Mom or Dad?
I figure she's probably too drunk by now to care or even notice if I leave, and I head towards the door. I don't wanna stay here anymore. Once I'm outside I breathe a sigh of relief. I wasn't sure where I was going, all I knew was that anywhere was better than home, especially when my father got back. And I do NOT want to be home the same time he is, even if it means freezing outside.
"Kenny?" I whirl around to face the person the voice came from.
"Oh, hey Butters…what are you doing here?" Butters and I had a couple of the same classes together and talked during those times. We had sorta become friends, I guess.
"M-mom said that I need to bur-bring Dad back from the g-gay bathhouse—err, I mean the uh… library. I'm on my way there r-right now. What are you doing h-here, Kenny?
"…I was on my way to a friend's house." That was sort of true, since I probably would have ended up at Cartman's or Stan's house eventually.
"W-well, I need to go and get my dad now. S-see you tomorrow then, Kenny." I say goodbye to him and watch him as he walks away. I guess there are some people who have it worse than I do.
I think about who I should go to—Cartman or Stan? Stan told me he was having Kyle over, so that probably meant I wouldn't be wanted there. Cartman might still be with Wendy, and even if he wasn't, he still wouldn't want me at his house, because he was an asshole. That left…Damien. Except he was in hell, and I didn't really feel like killing myself just to get there, when I died often enough on my own. Damn it. I needed to get more friends. I realize that the only people I really talk to are Kyle, Stan, Cartman, and sometimes Butter.
Oh, well…maybe I should just go home. But instead of going there, I'm walking the opposite direction of my house. I'm not sure where I'm headed, but I just keep walking. Pretty soon I find myself in Stark's Pond, a place where Kyle, Stan, Cartman and I usually went to go ice skating. It was quiet during the nighttime, and there was almost no sound, but then I hear some branches breaking a few feet away. I jump and turn to face the noise. I almost don't see him; his black clothes blend in with the darkness, while his skin matches the snow. My heart skips a beat as I realize who it is.
"I thought you went home," Damien says. I can't see his face, but I recognize the voice.
"I could say the same for you," I respond. Ignoring the cold, I sit down next to him. "Have you been here the whole time?"
"No, just a little while. Sometimes Hell is way too chaotic. I like it better here, it's nice and peaceful." Peaceful? I thought about all the raving celebrities, rallies, crab people, aliens, protests, metro sexual parades…well, I guess when you compare it to hell it's a little more peaceful.
"Hmm…" I see him look at me and hear him take a deep breath, as if he's about to say something. I wait, but he says nothing.
"What?" I finally have to ask.
"Dad said that when I get older he'll hand the throne over to me, and I'll be the one to rule over Hell. After that I won't be able to come back here anymore. The ruler isn't supposed to go back and forth, so I guess I probably won't see you again after that." He sighs and wraps his arms around his knees.
"What! Why not?" I feel my stomach lurch at the prospect of never seeing him again. Why did the thought scare me so much? Did I actually care about emo boy, or was it just the cold making my brain trip? I wonder…maybe the reason he always annoyed me, without even doing anything at all, was because--?
"Well, if you ask Dad to make it so that you don't die all the time, the next time you see me would be your permanent death. And that probably won't happen for a long time."
"How do you know that's what I'm gonna ask for?"
"Isn't it?" he asked. I still can't see his face, but I imagine he looks a bit surprised.
"I haven't really thought about it yet, but I'm not sure if that's what I want anymore…" He turned his head so that he was facing me, and I see his mouth move as if he was about to ask a question. Something came over me right then. Before he can say anything, I lean forward and place my lips firmly on his. I hear his breath hitch a little, and then all of a sudden he was kissing me back.
He pulled me closer and I can feel him smiling. I smile back. Today might have started out as bad day, but it was ending well.
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