To all my Death Note readers: I have been getting into the South Park fandom for quite some time now, and have recently decided to write a story based around it. It was greatly inspired by the story Ten Candies, which is awesome. There are many different ways that the "famous four" could have wound up. This story just offers a few different ways.
I have this whole story planned out, including an ending, and hope to actually finish it soon. I don't have too much time, what with school and extracurriculars, but I hope to still be able to work on this. This story shouldn't be too long, either, chapter-wise.
Now, Butters narrates only because I think he needs more credit. This story does support my favorite pairing, Kyman, as well as a secondary pairing I actually have been getting into, Bunny. There will be hints of Style because that's inevitable ((although I don't support it at all)). There will also be Stendy throughout for obvious canon reasons.
Warnings: Swearing, drug abuse, character death ((just Kenny; it's fine)), angst, avoidance of swears ((come on; it's Butters!)). Also, I will be using the fan-given names of the Goth kids.
Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or the song "Ghost of Days Gone By" by Alter Bridge, which I was listening to and realized how much it fit his idea in my head. That's actually what
prompted me to actually write this story. ^-^
I remember summer days, we were young and unafraid
With innocence we'd glide beneath the stars
…
Do you feel the same for what was remained
Yesterday is gone, we can't go back again
Do you ever cry for the ghost of days gone by
~ "Ghost of Days Gone By" by Alter Bridge
~DAYS GONE BY~
I think that the reason we all drifted apart is that we just didn't try hard enough and didn't realize what we had until we lost it. Still, doesn't mean I was a part of whatever "we" had. Nah, it was really what "they" had. And I miss what "they" had. I miss the adventures they went on, which sometimes included me. I miss hanging out with them and them using me as a scapegoat—hey, that's still technically being with them in my book—and basically everything about them.
I miss watching their two-on-two basketball games and their video-game competitions. I miss helping them in their various schemes…Aw, hamburgers—I basically miss everything about them.
So, that's why I've decided to write a book. Yes, a book. I think I did fairly well with The Tale of Scrotie McBoogerballs and The Poop that Took a Pee. The only problem was that I had a man kill the beautiful and wonderful Kardashians. Luckily, that shouldn't happen again because one, they're dead, and two, nobody is going to read this but the four I deem the most trustworthy—the four main characters.
Also, now that I look back at those two books, I've realized how stupid I was, thinking that those are really well written. No, this book, on my honor, will be well thought out, well written, and mature. And there will be no hidden meanings behind it that others can decipher but "I want my friends back how they were seven years ago."
And thus, I now begin a book that I've decided to call "Ghost of Days Gone By." I like it. It reminds me of our childhood days…
~DAYS GONE BY~
Looking out over Starks Pond, alone with nobody to comfort him any longer, Stan Marsh came to a realization. Sure, everything he looked at or heard or smelled or tasted was pure, unadulterated shit, but that didn't mean that he couldn't be happy. He was a cynical bastard that deserved some sort of happiness in his life, right? Stan took a deep breath of the crappy air, spotted a few ducks spewing shit all over the pond, and stood up.
Life sucked, sure. Heck, life is meant to be full of disappointments; that's what makes it living instead of dying. Well, dying wouldn't be that great either, but at least it was a final resting place—heaven or hell and no decisions or wrong turns or shit.
Stan remembered something an old friend of his once said, something that made him realize that he was meant to face the hardships in his life instead of let them take him over. "I'd rather be a crying pussy than a faggy Goth kid." He smiled at the memory, the first smile he felt on his lips in ages. The days had passed with no happiness, even his dreams detesting him.
He began walking back to his old neighborhood, where his old friend Kyle lived. He'd moved because of his parents' split. He missed his old house, missed his old neighbors. But then again, they were all shitty anyway. No, wait, he couldn't think like that. He had to accept the shit. Only then would he be able to look past it and…oh, who was he kidding? It was shit. All of it. He couldn't go back to Kyle. Not after what he'd done to him.
But…he was already outside his door; he'd already rang the doorbell; he'd already heard Kyle's voice shout, "I got it!"
The door opened to a laughing Kyle. Stan could hear video game music in the background, meaning his old super best friend was playing with somebody else. Kyle stopped laughing abruptly when he took in his old friend. His eyes flashed in hurt before being overruled with anger.
"What do you want?" he snapped at the cynical bastard. He didn't have time for Stan's weak attempts at "hanging out" with him and then complaining about everything with which they came in contact.
Stan just stared at his old friend, not used to that anger being directed at him. He was used to it being directed at…
"Who is it, Kahl?" another voice called from further in the house. Speak of the devil…What was Cartman doing here? Was Kenny here as well?
Kyle paused to think over what he should say, sharing a look with Stan before shouting back, "Nobody, just some douche trying to sell me something." He turned back to Stan and muttered, "Like a fucking friendship, perhaps?" He almost closed the door in Stan's face, but the other spoke up.
"Wait, Kyle, listen!"
"I don't want to listen to your lame excuses or your stupid—" Whatever actually came out of Kyle's mouth sounded like pure shit to Stan and he couldn't help it. Darn, and he'd gotten so far into this visit, too. He took a deep breath and concentrated on the exact words his old best friend was saying. "—away." Oh, crap, he only caught the end. But he understood basically what was being said.
Again, he took another deep breath, and Kyle let him. "No. I realized something today, Kyle." Kyle rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, but motioned for Stan to continue. "Even though everything is pure shit to me and I can't like anything anymore because of that, and even though whatever you say sounds like shit to me—"
"Is there a point to this?" Kyle interrupted. He seemed to be getting quite annoyed.
Stan stopped and squeezed the bridge of his nose in frustration. "What I'm trying to say is," he finally got out, "is that I don't think that my opinions on everything should stop us from being friends. If I try hard enough, I won't complain nonstop. I mean, most of what you've said today didn't seem so shitty to me."
Kyle stared blankly at him, not believing a word of what he said. "We've given you way too many chances, Stan. It's over, alright? Even Cartman is nicer than you are now. Get over it and find yourself some not-so-shitty friends, alright?"
So the voice Stan had heard earlier had been Cartman, the fatass. Was he seriously actually nicer than he was? Dude, coming from Kyle that must really mean a lot. "Dude!" he shouted at his once-best friend. "Cartman?"
"Yeah, what of it?" he answered defensively. "We're actually friends now. That's how much we hate your attitude."
"Wait, Cartman? Eric Cartman?" Stan was utterly dumbfounded. He pushed his way inside the Broflovski house to see Cartman waiting impatiently on the couch, controller in one hand and the other hand dipped in a bowl of Cheesy Poofs. No Kenny was in sight, meaning it was just Kyle and Cartman alone in this house. How had they actually been laughing before? Stan thought they could never be in the same room together without chewing each other out in one way or another.
He voiced these thoughts to both of them, now that Cartman saw exactly who had been taking up their precious gaming time. "You two hate each other! How can you actually be friends now? If I don't hear a fight coming from you two in the next ten seconds, I'm calling a mental institution."
Cartman and Kyle just stared at him in disbelief.
Finally, Cartman stated, "He's your ex-boyfriend, you handle him." He then went back to playing in one-player mode, having saved his and Kyle's progress from earlier.
"He was never my boyfriend!" Kyle ground out.
"Yeah, yeah…faggots," Cartman replied, focusing on his game.
Losing his temper completely, Kyle shouted, "I'm not gay, you fatass!" Stan breathed a sigh of relief at this. "Stan's right; we have no reason to be friends. So, get out of my house right now!" Stan actually smiled at this, but saw only shit coming out of Cartman's mouth when he responded. Either way, the fat kid heaved himself off the couch, flipped the two the bird and made the motions Stan always associated with "Screw you guys; I'm going home" even if that wasn't whatever it actually sounded like to him.
Once the front door slammed shut, Kyle turned to the grinning Stan. He sighed. "I was being an idiot, wasn't I?" Stan only nodded before heading to the couch and grabbing Cartman's abandoned controller. Kyle followed and they sat in silence while flinging shit at each other on the screen…or at least, that's what Stan saw it as. Didn't mean it wasn't fun, though.
~DAYS GONE BY~
The smell of smoke invades my nose as I breathe in the air near the back of the school. I know it's a very bad idea to walk this way, but the back entrance is the quickest way to get to my first period class without going through the throngs of other students. It's not as if it's really that dangerous for me, anyway. Shucks, it just reminds me of bad things.
I hate seeing the kids that hang out back here. There's five of them, always shrouded in darkness and smoke. Their hair, clothes, nails, eyelids, and lips are all black. I think their lungs are as well. And of course, so are their souls. They spew poetry and cynical remarks on the world while they ingest toxic amounts of drugs.
"Hey, look, it's the little crying pussy," the tallest one, Evan, remarks moving some of his curly hair out of his face. He's two years older than I am, but has been held back because of his failing grades and is still a senior, like two of the others.
I bow my head, wanting to get through them without letting any tears escape. The worst part is that I don't cry because of their insults, but because of who throws them.
"Piece of shit," comes the usual insult from the one in the black hat, voice as monotonous as always. He holds a hand-rolled joint in his fingers and takes a puff from it before passing it to the only girl, Henrietta, who's already holding a cigarette. I hold back any tears that pool in my eyes, almost at the back door now.
With a dark laugh, the youngest, Gorgie—who skips school often to hang out with his elders, even though he actually still goes to junior high—chides, "Now, Raven, you don't need to state the obvious all the time. Doing that only releases the torment inside that feeds your empty soul."
Raven looks at me then, straight in the eye. I can't avoid the dead gaze he shoots me. His soul truly is empty; I can't see anything in those eyes anymore. He's completely gone, even under a different name. And that's why I hate walking this way. Because Stan's empty shell sits here, waiting to throw my thoughts into turmoil and remind me of all the memories we can never share again.
Author's Notes: This first chapter is shorter than what the other chapters will be. It's sort of a prologue to everything. Every chapter ((or at least most of them)) will have an excerpt from Butters's book, under the same title as this fic. They will also have something from what really happened, always Butters's point of view because this is sort of his story. However, he's very observant and therefore can pull in their thoughts even while narrating. This chapter, however, is still like an introduction.
You now understand the premise of what Butters is doing, and sort of understand what really happened after Stan got older. It's meant to be quite angsty and sad. I'm sorry if I didn't get any of the characters actually in character. I'm actually changing up the Goths, so don't say anything about them yet. Basically, once Stan rejoined them, he changed them...but not for the better.
I chose to do Stan first for the obvious reason of he's the one that triggers all this in the first place. He seems sort of like the leader. Either way, the next chapters will most likely contain excerpts of the book from later in their lives. Meaning that it will be the same time as Butters is living in, everyone being the same age. Make sense?
I hope you've enjoyed this! Also, tell me which character you want next, Cartman, Kyle, or Kenny. I'm unsure who to do next, so your opinions do matter! Also, any tips on making them more in character, if they're not? I'm trying to retain Butters while also maturing him. It's hard.