Chapter I
Stanley Marsh, Kyle Broflovski and Eric Cartman were all relaxing on a Friday afternoon. Classes had just finished for the day, and just like any day after school, the boys were tired and happy just leaning up against the wall of the South Park High School.
Shivering slightly due to his opened jacket, Stanley pulled a box of cigarettes out from his pocket rather than be bothered to zip up his jacket. Stan opened the box and first offered one to Kyle.
"Ew, dude, you know I hate those," Kyle made a face, pushing the pack of cigarettes away. Stan shrugged, taking one for himself.
"Ay! What about me?" Cartman glared, despite his own pack full of cigarettes being clearly visible from his own coat pocket.
"You have your own damn cigs." Stan frowned, pulling out his lighter. Cartman cursed Stan as he took out the box of cigarettes from his own pocket.
The two boys were contently enjoying their smoke, Kyle frowning in disapproval at Stan in particular, when Kenny – parka hood carelessly thrown back, exposing all of his long, shining locks of blonde hair – came running towards them.
"Guys! Guys! You know what day it is today?" Kenny asked, coming to a halt in front of Cartman, who simply blew the smoke of his cigarette in Kenny's face.
"…Friday?" Stan asked.
"Yeah, but there's something special today!" Kenny insisted, waiting eagerly for one of his friends to reply.
"Uhm, you skipped all your classes? Hooray?" Kyle asked; no one shocked to have seen Kenny skip school.
"No! Even more special!"
"Just say it already!" Cartman demanded, glaring at the excited blonde.
"It's been a whole year since I last died!" Kenny proclaimed, smiling proudly. The three boys seemed neither unaffected nor shocked by this news.
"Oh." Stan said.
"Good for you, Ken." Kyle smiled slightly.
Kenny sighed as the three resumed their relaxing in silence, barely any excitement for his year of living.
"So why'd you skip today?" Stan asked the blonde, who smiled at the return of attention.
"To celebrate my anniversary, 'course."
"How'd you celebrate?" Kyle questioned, arching an eyebrow at his friend.
"Slept, mostly." Kenny shrugged, "It beats history class."
The boys all nodded in agreement. Kenny snatched Stan's cigarette from the boy's unsuspecting lips, taking a long drag before returning it. Kyle just made another face in disgust.
"So what are you guys doing now?" Kenny asked, being eager to join in with his friends on some exciting adventure or another.
"Stan's coming to my place for supper," Kyle said, "And I don't know what fat ass here is doing."
"Shut up!" Cartman glared at his friend, "Fucking Jew. Did you ever think I MIGHT have plans too, Kyle?"
"With yourself, maybe." Stan snickered. Cartman glared at the dark-haired boy.
"As a matter of fact, I'm going to BUTTERS' house!"
"BUTTERS?" Kyle laughed, "Why Butters?!"
"Because," Cartman began, "His mother was kind enough to offer me some Salisbury steak."
Kenny groaned. "It'll never be as good as Chef's."
"Yeah," Both Kyle and Stan said in union, thinking back to their old friend.
"How long has it been now?" Kenny asked.
"Eight years, I think." Stan said.
"It feels like just yesterday Chef was singing songs to us. I can't believe he's been gone so long…" Kyle sighed.
"Well, while you guys stand around being gay for Chef, I'm gonna go to Butters' house!" Cartman said, flipping the three off before leaving.
"Cartman's such a fucking fag." Kyle commented, Stan and Kyle both nodding.
"I can still hear you, Kyle!" Cartman yelled as he continued to walk away. Kyle just laughed and shrugged it off.
"We should probably get going. Sorry Ken, but mom's gonna be pissed if she finds out I didn't come straight home after school." Kyle explained. Kenny nodded.
"It's fine. You know I can have fun by myself," Kenny winked, making Stan groan.
"We know, we know. Bye, Ken."
"Bye you guys." Kenny smiled, watching his two friends walk towards Kyle's house together. Kenny sighed and began to walk home, alone. It was nothing unusual for him, of course. Cartman never wanted to come over because of what a crappy home he had. If he was hanging out with Stan or Kyle, they always went to their respective homes. If he was hanging out with all of them, they always went somewhere better than his home. Kenny was used to being lonely.
Kenny walked up to the door of his house; the shitty place he had no choice but to call home. Kenny walked to his bedroom, pulling off his parka and throwing it on the floor. Kenny found his father passed out on his bed, covering his bed sheets in drool and beer. Kenny cursed under his breath before leaving his room, searching for his mother. He found her in the kitchen, stocking the fridge full of recently purchased bread and beer.
"Mom, Dad's in my bed." Kenny said as he grabbed a loaf of bread and helped his mother place it in the fridge.
"Push him out," Kenny's mother suggested, sitting back as her son put away the remaining groceries. "Thank you, Kenny."
"No problem." Kenny smiled, grabbing a beer from the now stocked fridge before closing the door.
"Don't let your father see you with that. You know he doesn't like to share." Kenny's mother warned. Kenny nodded and left the room, opening his beer in the living room and sitting down on the floor. His older brother, Kevin, was screwing around with the TV.
"Not working?" Kenny asked.
"Does it ever work?" was Kevin's reply. Kenny shrugged and got up, returning to his bedroom in hopes of some sleep. Shoving his Dad off his bed as he had been instructed, Kenny put his beer down on the floor by his bed before lying down under his filthy, stained sheets.
Kenny woke up only an hour later, still with nothing to do. Sitting up, he noticed his father was gone. He leaned over and grabbed his beer, taking a sip. It was warm and disgusting, but it didn't stop Kenny from drinking it as he sat on his bed with crossed legs, thinking of what to do for the remainder of the evening.
Normally he would have just lay back down and slept some more, only bothering to get up around nine for his usual nightly activities, but he couldn't. He had had another dream, just like every other night, and that same dream always kept him up the remainder of the nights. It was far from pleasant – Every day Kenny had been falling asleep during homeroom class and looked like he had Pink eye or worse.
Kenny knew the dream was driving him insane, but there was nothing he could do about it. All day he would have flashbacks to the dream – He could see himself, walking home from school, perfectly innocent and fine, and seconds later, he was a bloody, gory mess that lay dying on the sidewalk, with no one around to give a shit that he was about to die.
It seemed like a slow and painful death at that, but just like every night in his dream, when he died, he felt happy. Everything was right for that moment as he was spiralling down to Hell. And then… Then he felt at home. The dream was pretty good, but now… Kenny had begun to fear for his life, after having so many repetitions of the dream.
As Kenny finished the last of his beer, dwelling on the latest re-run in his head of the all-too familiar dream, Kenny knew there was reason behind it. There had been one whole year, the longest ever, without him dying, and he missed it more than anything. Hell had been a safe spot for him… He couldn't die, he had friends, and he had love. On Earth, he felt pain and sadness, and was forced to spend a lot of his time alone. On Earth he was the biggest slut in South Park High, whereas in Hell… Hell had been completely different.
Kenny stomped on his can angrily and kicked it away before laying back down on his bed. Still with nothing to do, he shut his eyes and hoped he would fall back asleep soon enough.
To Be Continued