Whispers, a south park fanfic

(Hey! I know I should probaly be working on my other stories but I have discovered that I can not stick with multi-chapter stories. Ok, you probaly do not even care... so on with the story! oh, random word of the day: Leather jacket. Gasp that is two words! Oh, well. the song is Evanescence Whisper. Very good song you should check it out! R&R! Please!)

Catch me as I fall. Say you're here and it's all over now. Speaking to the atmosphere. No one's here and I fall into myself. This truth drives me
into madness.

He sighed for what must have been the trillionth time that night. The shouts from the other room easily broke through the paper thin walls, slowly driving him insane. He desperately focused on his disheveled room as a distraction from the words he care not to distinguish. He stared up at his ceiling tracing the cracks in the cheap, broken plaster with his glistening, dull, blue eyes stinging from looking so closely to the open light bulb hanging above his bed. His shaggy un-kept dirty blonde hair fell in to his face and he tried his best to keep his attention on it, wishing he could some how move it with out having to move his numb body. He wanted, no, he needed, to keep the numbness with him as long a possible. Things never hurt as bad when he was numb… or that's what he choose to believe. He was glad that his big brother and little sister had gotten out when they did. He was now fifteen years old, they had left when h was thirteen, before things got bad. His brother, Kevin, moved out when he was sixteen, and never looked back. His sister, Karen, was the one that he always worried about though. She was taken by child services, which sucks but any where was better than where she was. Where he is. A bottle broke against a far wall and he flinched with out meaning to, losing a fair amount of the lack of sensation. He shivered from under his thin blanket, most of his usual orange clothing was in the closet and he wore just a white T shirt and his orange pants. He sighed now sickeningly aware of the muffled sounds of his father hitting his mom… again. Yes, this happened on a regular basis. The cursing died down as he assumed his mother had finally passed out, or pretended to. Lucky. He wished more than anything that he could just do the same, pass out and pretend none of this ever happened, and yet he would give anything to keep just that from happening. He refused to let his dad win, he would never give in! He mentally prepared himself for what was to come next.

I know I can stop the pain if I will it all away(if I will it all away!) Don't turn away (Don't give in to the pain). Don't try to hide (Though they're screaming your name). Don't close your eyes (God knows what lies behind them). Don't turn out the light (Never sleep never die).

"Kenny! Get out here you worthless piece of ****" his fathers drunken slur echoed through the small trailer. Never was Kenny more thankful that his little sister had been taken out of this mess of a house hold. Kenny did not even blink. With one last sigh he got off of his make-shift bed, which was just an old mattress on the floor and walked to the door. No sense in making him any madder. He tried to open his door, having to pull as hard as he could to un-stick it, and walked in to the tiny living room. He stopped in front of his father who was standing/ leaning on the wall by the old, broken, T.V. His mother was most certainly not faking it. She was passed out between the couch and the coffee table which sat in front of it, with a pool of blood around her head. Her face was turned away.

I'm frightened by what I see. But somehow I know, that there's much more to come. Immobilized by my fear and soon to be, blinded by tears. I can stop the pain if I will it all away. Don't turn away (Don't give in to the pain) Don't try to hide (Though they're screaming your name) Don't close your eyes (God knows what lies behind them) Don't turn out the light (Never sleep never die)

He stood there for a second, staring at his father with fear in his eyes. The bigger of the two got tired of waiting, as usual, and started cursing and speaking random incoherent words at his youngest son. He took a shaky step forward and Kenny took a step back. Bad idea. His father got angry again and lashed out by means of his fist, connecting with his sons jaw which emitting a sickening crunch. More punches were thrown and Kenny just took them, still in shock from the amount of blood coming from his mother. After so many punches, Kenny did not even bother to count, he fell to the floor. Landing in the space between his mother and the couch, he coughed up blood that mixed with the crimson stain already caused by his mother. Tears burned his sore eyes. His face hurt but he turned his head anyways. The first thing he saw was his moms features. Her red hair was plastered to her face from sweat and blood. The blood had come from her open mouth and her nose, it appeared broken. But the most disturbing thing about the whole scene was her eyes. They were staring, glazed over, and wide open. She was dead. Kenny knew, he just knew, he was next. More tears fell and the world blurred.

Fallen angels at my feet. Whispered voices at my ear. Death before my eyes. Lying next to me I fear. She beckons me, shall I give in? Upon my end, shall I begin forsaking all I've fallen for? I rise to meet the end.

He stood, unsteadily, and faced his father once again. He was ready. The young boy had lived a life of abuse and sorrow. He was sick of all of it! His now bright, electric, blue eyes stared bravely, head on with his fathers glazed, drunken, dull eyes. The older man lurched forward, beating Kenny again and again.

Don't turn away (Don't give in to the pain). Don't try to hide (Though they're screaming your name). Don't close your eyes (God knows what lies behind them). Don't turn out the light (Never sleep never die).

The pain was there, but he convinced himself that it did not hurt because of the self- induced numbness.

With one last hit he fell to the ground again. This time in front of the T.V. he did not rise, he could not. His whole body felt like it was on fire. The numbness had run out. Everyone says hat when you died you go numb… maybe he had used all his numbness trying to avoid the pain at the wrong times.

His father was kicked him now, after a few failed attempts to stand him up. The world went black, but he could still feel the pain. Burning, searing pain. He choked on this own blood. Desperately, he struggled to breath. Again and again he wished for it to end. It seemed as though it would never stop. It did.

Servatis a periculum [save us from danger]. Servatis a maleficum [save us from evil]. Servatis a periculum [save us from danger]. Servatis a maleficum [save us from evil]. Servatis a periculum [save us from danger]. Servatis a maleficum [save us from evil].

(So yea... sad right? Sorry if it is not the best story in the world. I wrote it at one in the morning... so yea. You decide if Kenny comes back in this story or not. I have no clue...blah, I just fell a sleep...night! Luv Th3 Twi1ight 5tar!)