Different

Cartman changed.

I'm not sure if it was his meds, or just the after effects of attempted suicide, but he wasn't himself. He wasn't basking in the attention he received throughout the day, nor was he talking much at all. No matter the topic, Cartman didn't pitch in to any conversations, and when asked he just insisted he was 'high on medication' and moved on. I'm honestly a tad worried about him. I know that's weird to think, but no matter how hard I tried to convince myself otherwise, the lifeless look in his eyes when I see him reminds me that he's human. It's hard for me to wrap my head around something as complex as Eric Cartman feeling somewhat numb to everything and everyone, but it has been 7 years since I talked to the guy. Maybe, there's a small chance that he's changing.

And I'm not sure I'm entirely okay with that.

Because, as much as I hate his anti-semitism, it's a part of who he is. A part of our relationship. Without our fighting, I don't feel like we're ourselves. It's just not right. I tried provoking some sort of comment out of him at lunch, but nothing. Not even a smirk. Absolutely nothing. He's not the Eric Cartman that I once knew.

I was determined to get something from him today, by any means, and demanded to the office ladies that I have my schedule changed to match his. Since he just got back from the hospital, and the office ladies are huge pushovers, they allowed it and immediately combined our schedules. Since we're in the same math and reading level, we just take the same class, but he's now in some of my extracurriculars, and I'm in a lot of Academic support classes. (For any of you who don't know, Aced. Support is basically a free class to read, catch up on work or just dick around)

I was hoping Cartman would say something about having to hang out with a Jew all day, or the classes he's being forced to take, or something!

Anything.

Nothing.

He just nods and heads to his new class.

Seriously?

What the hell is going on with him?

After the final bell had rung, I walked over to Cartman's seat and waited for him to pack up his stuff and head out with me. Some may call this clingy, but I'm only doing it because I need something from him today. I can't stand the thought of Cartman not being who I've known him to be since preschool. No, since diapers.

He doesn't bat an eye, and moves aimlessly. I desperately try to talk to him, purposely saying things that would normally get him going, but he just nods and occasionally makes a grunt in disapproval. At first this was just weird, now it's concerning.

"So, what are your prescriptions?" I asked. At this point, I'm not even really interested, I just want to hear his voice. Why am I so desperate to listen to him all of a sudden? Perhaps, it's the years of not having anybody to talk to taking over. I mean, I've been gladly talking to nobody my age for years, so it's only reasonable that I'm suddenly really chatty and desperate for company, even if that company is Cartman.

"Um, I'm taking Lexapro. I'm told it's gonna make me happier or some shit. I don't feel happier."

I'm not gonna rip on him for opening up, or even bring it up. I'm glad he's talking to me, so I calmly ask more questions.

"Well, how does it make you feel?"

"I feel...tired. And anxious and weak. I feel like shoving my head in the oven and turning that shit on full blast. I feel like downing a bottle of alcohol with the medication. Worst of all, I feel calm. Like, I know something's wrong and I'm scared for the future, but this goddamn medicine is making me so drowsy I don't think I have the power to do anything about it. I'm not myself, and it's all my fault."

I'm not sure what to say. What do I say? I don't want him to feel this way anymore, but if the medication is supposed to help him, then I don't have a choice of whether or not he should be taking it.

"Sorry." he said simply.

"Don't be sorry. I hate it when people do that." I mimic his tone from the other day, and I swear I see him grin a little.

At least I still have some power over him, even if it's as small as a grin. I'll take what I can get from him at the moment.

While I was studying up for a quiz, my phone buzzed, catching my attention momentarily. Stan had added me and the other two guys into a group chat called 'best friends'. Really gay if you ask me, but nobody is asking me. Since I don't really have much work left to do, besides tweaking a few things here and there, I sit back in my desk chair and wait for someone to say something in the chat. When nobody does, I contemplate whether or not I should start a conversation, and if I do, what should I say? I don't think normal people dwell on this sort of stuff like I do, so I go with my gut and send something both plain and simple, yet not out of character for me.

KB:WHY DID YOU NAME THE GROUP CHAT 'BEST FRIENDS' LIKE SOME SORT OF MIDDLE SCHOOL GIRL?

SB: BECAUSE WE ARE ALL FRIENDS

KM:THAT'S GAY

SM: EVERYONE MEET AT THE BASKETBALL COURT. YOU COMIN CARTMAN?

He didn't respond immediately. I was starting to think he wouldn't, but then he started to type, and I felt myself getting giddy. I'm not sure why, but just knowing he's talking made the mood seem lighter. I wasn't worried about saying something wrong, or my studies or anything. All could think about is what he's going to say.

EC:I'LL BE THERE

A smile helplessly tugged at my lips, and I quickly abandoned my work in favor of hanging out with the guys. I can't even remember the last time I left the house on a school day. I slipped into some old basketball shorts and a white tee, along with my old running shoes, faded a little from use. I lazily flopped my hat on, covering my wild red curls, and practically glided down the steps in a hurry. I'm eager to get there as soon as possible, maybe even before everyone else.

My mom was reading a cookbook on the sofa when I came down to tell her where I was going in a hurry. She looked at me for a moment, and I saw the curiosity flicker behind her eyes. I haven't been very social at all in years, so it's only fair that my mom is interested in why I'm all hyper and about to head out.

"Where are you going bubeleh?" She questioned, and I nearly rolled my eyes. It's not the fact that she is delaying my leave, but because she still uses that dumb nickname for me. Only me. Not even Ike as well.

"Out with friends. Remember the guys?"

"Oh, that's right. How's little Eric been doing?"

I assess the thought of just ignoring her and leaving, but that may backfire on me later. It's not even really my place to be telling her these things, but it's most likely nobody else will.

"He's been fine. We're hoping this meetup will lift his spirits a bit though."

"That's very thoughtful of you boys. It must be hard for him, what with Liane being gone and all."

What.

"What?"

"Oh, Eric hasn't told you?"

"No, where did she go? What happened?"

"It's not really my place to say anything, and there's not a lot of information anyways. All I know is that she left with a gentleman friend. I'm not sure why Eric didn't go with her, or who the man is, or where they went. All I've heard are rumors."

No way. Cartman's mom left. Without him. That's so fucked. That's beyond fucked!

"Thanks for telling me mom. I'll talk to Cartman about it ."

"Bye Kyle. I love you."

"Love you too."

I was out the door before she could say anything else. I don't know what to think. That can't be right. I remember Liane, and although she was questionable at times, she cared deeply about Cartman. She'd never leave him behind without some reason. Perhaps, Cartman did something. No, despite how he treated her, Cartman loved him mom. He would never purposely drive her away. He knows better. I can't wrap my head around this,and it's pissing me off.

Calm down Kyle, you have shit to do today, and nobody's gonna want to hang out if you're boiling like a steamed vegetable.

I walked up to Stan's doorstep, and figured that if I walked with him, I could calm down faster. Maybe, we can catch up and talk like old times. I knocked loudly at his door, putting unwanted force into each pound, and Stan answered, a bit worried.

"You okay dude? That knock was pretty violent."

"Yeah, just stuck in my head, I guess."

Stan shrugged and headed out, walking with me down the street. He shoved his hands in his pockets as we walked, and started talking about what we've been up to the past years, but in greater detail.

"Yeah, so basically I just post a cover or something on Youtube, and it gets a bunch of views and I get money later. It's genius! I don't know why I didn't do it sooner."

"That's great that you found something you enjoy doing that makes you a extra buck or two."

"Yeah. What about you? What have you been doing all this time?"

"Um, I've just been studying."

I know how lame I just sounded, but I can't think of anything that I've been doing besides studying. I can tell Stan thinks so, because his nose scrunches up.

"That's it?"

"Well, yeah. It makes my parents happy when I get good grades, and it's not like I ever have anywhere to be or anything."

"Don't you like to run and play basketball?"

"Yeah, but it really interfered with my schedule. I was willing to sacrifice hobbies for good grades."

Stan stopped walked, and planted his feet to the ground, causing me to stop and look back at him. He was looking at the ground with a straight face when he spoke.

"You know there's more to life than good grades?"

I started to get sort of nervous. Like Stan is severely judging me right now for choosing grades over well being.

"It makes my parents happy, so.."

I felt warm hands on my shoulders and looked up into Stan's light blue eyes. He was staring so aggressively at me, I was sure I was melting. His eyebrows curved in a sad state, and he spoke softly.

"You've always been a people pleaser. You need to focus on what makes you happy man. Quit worrying about making others happy all the time.".

Sounds like we're having one our iconic SBF heart-to-hearts. I'm a bit out of practice with this, but a manage to crack a smile and nod. He then pulled me into a tight hug, knocking the air out of my lungs, and nearly crushing me.

"Stan-" I breath out. He loosens his grip, and I hug back.

"I missed hanging out with you dude. Seriously, the football guys are cool and all, but none of them are like you guys. They're all looks and beer."

I chuckled and responded,

"I missed you guys too. Everyday has been the exact same. Wake up, go to school, come home, study, sleep. Rinse and repeat. I'm getting sick of it."

We held that embrace for a little longer, until we finally broke off to continue walking. I'm sure Kenny and Cartman are there already, with how long we're taking.

"It's weird. In a way, Cartman's dumb decisions were the best thing that's happened to me in years."

The second I hear the words pass his lips, I felt the anger from earlier come back, and I felt like I needed to protect Cartman.

"Dude, don't say that. Cartman obviously isn't in a good place, so don't belittle his decision-making."

"Why are you defending him? Like, I get he's not his best right now, but he's still Cartman. I thought you, of all people, would still have some sort of grudge against him."

"You can't possibly believe that he hasn't changed after 7 years of self reflection."

"I do think that. I think that you are the things you've done."

"So, you're a kid jacking it in San Diego?"

"Haha, that was one time. Cartman has done a lot of sick things, and I'm not just gonna hand him forgiveness on a silver platter because he's suicidal. You shouldn't either. I'd think you'd want nothing to do with him, after the way you guys acted back at the hospital. Do you, like, feel bad for him or something?"

"No. If anything, I feel resentful towards him, but there's something drawing me in. Maybe, it's because he's changing. Today after last period, we talked. Like, without fighting, and it was weird. He opened up about how he felt, and then when I didn't say anything, he apologised. Like he was sorry for sharing his feelings, or something. I didn't, and still don't, feel bad for him, but I want to know more about him. I want to be a part of his little bubble again. Back then, he was so important, and I don't know why. I felt empty when he was gone for too long. Even though I felt happy on the outside, deep inside, I felt empty without him. As if my very existence depends on me and him being together, whether we were getting along or arguing. Is that stupid?"

Stan was quiet for a second, and I could see the court in the distance. As we grew closer to it, Stan still hadn't answered my question. He looked deep in thought, as if he was processing everything I just said. Honestly, I was just rambling, but he can take it however he pleases.

"No, but be careful. Cartman's mind games can get dangerous sometimes. But for now, lets focus on having fun." He closes the conversation when we arrived at the court. Kenny was showing Cartman some cool tricks he learned with the ball when we arrived. Cartman's face seemed to light up when he saw us, but remained stoic enough that I could've missed it if I wasn't paying close enough attention. Kenny tossed the ball to me, knocking the wind out of me, and yelled "Game on!".

Twenty five minutes later of sweating and grunting, me, Stan and Kenny are totally exhausted. We've been aggressively playing for hours, and although it's a great stress reliever, I can't help but pay my attention to Cartman. He's not really into the game at all. He doesn't even hog the ball. Once it's passed to him, he just passes it and watches us all work out.

"You gotta do something fatass!" I yell, exasperated. He grunts and crosses his arms.

"Well gee, sorry Kahl. It not my fault I'm not into it.". He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked over to the bench, flopping down on it and playing with his hands. I don't think I've ever seen Cartman so out of his element. The other two notice this too, and the fun of the game basically dies. Since I'm the one who yelled at him, I guess it's only fair I'm the one that talks to him. It's obvious something is bugging him, though I doubt he's actually gonna open up.
I walked over to him, and gingerly sat next to him, hoping he doesn't move. Kenny and Stan watched from afar, probably talking about us. I could care less; my objective is to talk to Cartman about what's been lingering in my mind since I left the house.

"So, what was it like? Before you attempted? What happened?" I asked. The question was heavy on my shoulders, and I thought asking it would leave me relieved, but the anticipation of hearing the answer was overbearing the relief.

"You really wanna know?" He looked genuinely surprised. As if he never expected anyone to ask him about it.

"Please." I asked, well pleaded. He briefly glanced back at the other two boys, wrestling for the ball, and stood. I followed shortly after, and he started to walk away, towards the exit.

"I-grr! Wait asswipe, aren't you gonna tell me?"

"Patience, my dear Jew. Wouldn't want the others to hear my compelling and tragic backstory."

"You're not a superhero fatass. Also, who cares if Stan and Kenny hear. They're your friends too."

"That's just it."

"Huh?"
He didn't respond after that. He just continued up the path leading to the bus stop. I followed, the need to hear the anwer taking over my better judgment. We left Stan and Kenny to their 1v1 game, and walked home. The walk back was excruciatingly long and painful. I wanted to do something to get Cartman to start talking, but I couldn't think of a damned thing. Everything was either too eager or too vague.

"So, you wanna know what happened huh?" He spouted suddenly. I nearly jumped out of my shoes, but took a breath and nodded.

"Yeah. I know you're mom isn't here anymore. What's up with that?"

I saw Cartman freeze in the corner of my eye. He must've been surprised I asked that so boldly, but I'm tired of waiting for an answer.

"It's a difficult matter. I don't think nosy Jews have any business knowing about it."

I growled and punched his arm. His lips curved in amusement and he nudged me in retaliation.

"Well, if you really want to know, then I'll tell you."

I sweat my ears perked up like a dog. I didn't want to say anything, so I don't ruin it, and silently waited for him to continue. He cracked his knuckles, and began.

"Well, my daily schedule consisted of sleeping, eating and watching mindless Youtube prank videos. I didn't have anything or anyone, and spent a lot of time alone. You know what they say about doing the same thing over and over. Insanity."

I stop and ponder this thought. Me and Cartman were in the same situation, all this time? Would I have attempted too? I'd like to believe I was sane, but I'm not very sure. There were days where I'd wake up and wonder, 'What's the point?', but continued on anyways. I'm not sure if it's a good thing that I relate to Cartman so much, or a sign that I'm on the brink of losing my mind.

"You were really lonely, weren't you?" I asked. I like how his eyes light up when I talk, but I prefer to say less.

"A little. I wouldn't call it loneliness. It was more of an empty feeling."

He's just like me.

"I missed hanging out with everyone, even when nobody wanted to hang out with me."

We're alike.

"I even missed your jew ass."

"You missed being with me. Whether we were arguing or getting along, right?"

He looks at me questioning for a second, then his expression softens.

"Sounds like the feeling is mutual."

Before I can stop myself, I break into uncontrollable laughter. I just think it's so fucking funny that after all these years of insisting we're complete opposites, it turns out we're more similar than I ever would've thought. Cartman doesn't catch on, but instead eyes me warily,probably wondering what I'm laughing about. Once I had calmed down, we were at the bus stop. I found myself gazing at the sign, remembering all the good and bad times I've had here.

With Cartman

My knees grew weak. I figured it was most likely because of the cold, and was about to say something, but Cartman beat me to it.

"Remember when visitors came and gave me an anal probe?"

"Yeah. They also took my brother. Assholes."

Cartman had his signature grin on his face, that usually makes my blood boil, but makes my insides warm now. It's good to see him smile after everything. His smile is charming, yet gentle. I like the way his jawline sucked in. It really defines his nice features, like his smouldering eyes and wide cheeks. Then, as fast as it arrived, it fades. His eyebrows sink into a sullen look, and his eyes focus to the ground. We started to walk again, towards our houses, and I can't help but think about why his mood dropped all of a sudden. We were just recalling old times, though that may have reminded him of something unpleasant that happened over the last few years. Now I feel bad.

When we arrived at his house, he finally piped up after quiet walking and asked,

"Are you staying at mine, or do you need to get home?"

His voice dripped with concealed hurt, and I saw right through his pithy stare. I wanted to say something that would bring back that happy grin he had on earlier, but seeing as I don't know why he's so upset, I don't know how to fix it.

"It's a school night, so I doubt my mom will let me stay anywhere. You gonna be okay on your own?"

Cartman shrugged, and I pounced on him before I could even have a critical thought about how or if I should even do it. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, just like Stan had did to me earlier, 'cept I don't have the strength to squeeze him like Stan did me. Also, my arms don't wrap all the way around him, and barely meet at his back. He doesn't hug back at first, more just taken back by my sudden gesture. Honestly, I am too. I didn't expect myself to just hug him like I did, but then again, I am more touch starved than I'm willing to admit.

"I'm really glad you're alive right now. Like, insanely glad. I may hate you, but that doesn't mean I don't like you." I whispered.

That made no sense, but it was enough to get Cartman to hug me back. He almost lifted me off my feet, due to his towering height and massive strength. I didn't realise how tall he'd gotten, but he had a few inches on me. He also was still thick, not from fat, but from muscle. I wonder how he got that.

That doesn't matter right now. All that matters is being in his arms. He's like a blanket around me, and I can feel the heat radiating off him. I could stay like this forever, but I know I need to get home.

We parted, and went our separate ways. Even after I'd stepped into my house, and headed up to my room, I couldn't tear my mind away from the hug. It's one of those moments that me and Cartman rarely have, but are always so special and thought consuming. One of those moments where we were getting along, and it really felt like we were friends. I can count on one hand how many times me and Cartman got along, and talked without arguing. It's always a thrilling thing to think back on. It really reminds me how much we've been through together, and how close we can be if we weren't at opposite ends. I'm really looking forward to having more moments like that with him, even if they're followed by moments of hatred for each other.

I flopped in my desk chair, and my eyes mindlessly trailed to the single drawer, knowing what lied inside. I, hesitantly, hovered my hand over the handle, wondering if I had the courage to open in. I figured that I wouldn't get over my fear of seeing it again if I never tried, and opened the drawer quickly. Inside lied a familiar folded piece of notebook paper. I picked it up, and held it in my hands, taking a breath. I need to read it again.

Burn his words in my mind until I can recite it like the back of my hand.

I want to read it over and over, yet I never want to see it again. I don't want to imagine the night this was written. Cartman sitting at his desk, pencil twiddling in his hand as he stares at the orange bottle next to his paper, wondering 'Am I really doing this?'.

I shuddered, and unfolded the paper, scanning the creases in it before reading.

I read it.

Over

and over

and over

and over.

I examined every word like I was decoding a puzzle. In a way, I was. Decoding Cartman, the most complicated puzzle I'd ever known.

"Dear reader,

Yes, I killed myself. You can all gasp now,"

From the way he worded this, I assume he didn't want to make this a big deal, which is very uncharacteristic of him. The Eric Cartman I remember would've loved to have his face plastered everywhere after killing himself. Not that he would be there to see it.

"I bet you're wondering why. Well, it's not really your business, unless you're Stan, Kenny, Kyle or Butters. In that case, stick around. You might want to hear this."

Why us specifically? Why didn't he say Clyde or his mom or anyone else. Why just us four?

"Well, it mostly Well, it mostly started towards the end of 6th grade. After the guys and I went our respective ways, I started to notice things about myself that I was told for years, but never really considered since I was so full of myself. I was fucking fat as shit,my voice was annoying, my smile was gross and crooked, etc. There are so many things wrong with me, and everything that's happened over the last 7 years have only made it worse, leading me to this point. My friends were the only good things I had, and I was foolish enough to let them go. Now look where I am."

Damn, he doesn't like himself anymore, does he? Well, I guess it was bound to happen at some point. I mean, of course someone with a god complex as a kid would become the most insecure of us all as a teenager. That's only the tip of the iceberg too. There's still so much about him I don't know yet. He even said himself that everything that's happened over the last 7 years has made everything worse for him, and driven him over the edge. I wish he'd just tell me what happened, but Cartman wasn't ever the type to just open up. He's always had this mysterious side of him.

Except, now it's not just a side of him, it's almost his whole personality. Since he doesn't make any anti-semitic, racist, bigoted, or ableist comments, all he is now is just this big ball of mystery. A huge puzzle just begging to be solved, and I intend on doing just that. They might say I'm insane, or I'm aiming too high, but I could care less. If there's one thing that hasn't changed, it's that I'm always gonna be determined and drawn to Cartman and his plans.

Hello children :)

I hope you're enjoying the story so far. I got a little sidetracked halfway through, but I think it turned out pretty good. Any requests, criticism, complaints or anything else, tell me!

-Craigory