South Park © Matt & Trey.

I want to eventually write an epilogue because it still feels a bit unfinished, but for now it's over.

Sexing like a stone
Hot as the sand
Entering life
Exiting with a man

Blond Redhead

When I arrive at Hells Pass, I can't spot Kevin. So, instead, I walk up to a nurse and ask to see Karen. A sympathetic young man leads me to her room. I don't ask questions. I'm too scared.

I spot her lying there, limp and unconscious in an ugly hospital gown. There's a big, fresh bruise on her face and a few on her arms. She looks lifeless and I'm not used to seeing her like this. It makes me want to fuckin' cry. I let out a shaky sigh as I take a step into the room, sitting on the chair next to her hospital cot. "Karen," I say her name, even though she can't hear it. I take her hand and hold it in mine. "I'm sorry," I whisper. "I'm really fucking sorry…"

I don't know how long I'm sitting here and trying to suppress the need to cry, but I feel her hand twitch in mine. When I look up, her eyes are open. "You're an idiot…" she says in a soft, weak voice.

"I know." I can't help but agree.

She lets out a breath, closing her eyes once more.

"What happened to you?" I ask with quiet anger.

She smiles wearily. "Nothin' I can't handle."

I let out a sob, but I don't cry. I'm not the one who needs to cry, Karen is… but she won't. I hate seeing her like this. She's fourteen… she's still a baby. For fuck's sake, I'm still a baby, too. We shouldn't be killing ourselves when we're still so young.

A minute later, Kevin walks in. He looks incredibly tired and the bags under his eyes are look darker than usual. "You're awake…" he sighs, relief evident in his tone.

Karen forces out a smile. "Yup."

Kevin approaches her bedside and bends down, pecking her on the forehead. "I called Ruby," he tells her. "She's on her way."

Karen nods lazily and it's silent once more. No one knows what to say, so no one says anything and soon Ruby arrives with Craig behind her.

"Karen…" Ruby whispers, sitting down next to my sister and touching her hair. "God… I'm so fuckin' sorry I wasn't there."

Karen forces a tired smile. "It's okay."

They hug for a few minutes and then kiss. Everyone in the room politely averts their eyes. "I'll kill 'em all," Ruby promises.

"It's okay," Karen says. "Really, it's okay. Shit happens. Assholes get away with shit all the fucking time... especially here."

"Come on," I mutter.

"I'm just being realistic."

It makes me sick to my stomach that she's right.

Craig stands beside me, holding my hand and trying to telepathically communicate to me that things will be better someday. I know they will be. Things always turn out fine, don't they?

Karen leaves the hospital the following day and the bill is crippling. "Lovely," Kevin mutters, staring at the piece of paper. I can tell it weighs heavy in his hands.

"Sorry for getting attacked," Karen bites sarcastically, dipping her spoon into a bowl of cereal. We're sitting in the kitchen. It's a bit late for breakfast, but we don't have much food. We need to get groceries soon.

"Not your fault, Karen," he says wearily.

"We're poor and trashy," Karen adds. "How are we gonna pay for the bill?"

"Don't worry about it," Kevin smiles at her in a reassuring matter. "I've got a little money stashed away."

"Okay…" she says quietly. I think she feels bad about it, but there's nothing she can do. She discards her cereal and leaves the room a moment later.

Once she's gone upstairs I call Kevin out. "You don't have money stashed away," I say. My voice wavers because I know the truth.

He shrugs. "I know, but it's okay for her to think that I do. I don't want her to worry. She's too young for all of this bullshit."

"I'll help," I offer.

"Nah," he says dismissively. "Don't worry about it, Kenny."

"Come on," I urge.

"No," he says. His voice is stern and I can tell he won't be swayed, so I relent. I feel bad about it, though. Kevin cleaned himself up a lot. I don't want him to end up back where he started – giving blowjobs in the red light district.

"Bitch," I mutter an insult.

He just smiles, ruffling my hair in a typical big-brother fashion. "I'm the oldest, right? I'm supposed to take care of you guys. We'll be fine. I promise."

"Okay," I say softly.

"Be good, all right?" he adds. "I might be gone for a couple days. Keep an eye on Karen. Call me if you need anything. I'll take my phone."

I let out a breath. "Come on, don't do this…" I try one more time.

Kevin laughs somewhat bitterly. "I can either sell cheap dime bags," he starts, "or I can make a lot of money in far less time."

"It's not easy money, though… is it?"

He shrugs. "I don't mind it."

"Yes, you do!" I hiss at him. "No straight guy wants to be railed by some fat, old hick!"

"I don't mind," he reiterates. "Sure, I used to hate it, but eventually it got easy. Once you're at your lowest, you learn things. You learn how to blank your mind. It's a cycle. Just close your eyes, relax and then it's done."

"It's not that easy," I scoff. I would know. Yeah, I've never been paid to fuck, but I've been with a lot of losers. It's never easy. Maybe it's easy when you're in that moment and you're only half aware because you allow your mind to wander, but when all is said and done and you have a minute to think... you'll hate yourself even more. "What should I tell Karen? You know she'll ask."

"Make something up," he shrugs.

"So, you want me to lie?" I reiterate.

"Yeah, lie."

The following day, my boss hands me my paycheck and after work I made my way to the grocery store. I buy apples, bananas, bread, butter, milk, cereal. All the necessities. Kevin usually does the shopping, but I want to give him a head start this time. When I get back home, I put the groceries away in the cupboard before going upstairs.

I walk down the hallway, knocking on Karen's closed door. A moment later, she opens it and looks at me expectantly. "What?"

"I bought food," I tell her. "If you're hungry…"

"Right," she says. "Thanks." She walks past me without another word and I retreat to my room.

Later in the night, Kevin returns home. He looks worn out, but when he spots me sitting on the sofa, he nods at me. "Hey."

"Hey," I echo.

"We're fine," he says.

"I know," I reply.

He smiles.

I smile.

We're both lying.

Later in the day, I call Bebe and tell her what's been going on. She gives me sympathy and I feel a lump in my throat but I swallow it. Then I hang up.

I spend the night thinking about the kind of things I usually try to avoid thinking about. I want to change, but change is hard and change is slow. I wish it was sudden. I wish I could just snap my fingers and be who I want to be. I want more for Kevin and Karen and even myself. We're in too deep. We're still so young.

Soon, Karen is standing in my doorway. She isn't wearing any make up. She's clad in a nightdress and I can see the bruises on her face and arms. "Stop fucking punishing yourself," she demands angrily. "It's pathetic. If I can handle this, you can handle whatever shit you're going through."

"You're stronger than me," I tell her. She's so fucking strong, sometimes I can't believe she's the same little girl who used to cling to me so desperately.

"Yeah, I know," she says cockily, crossing her arms. "You're weak as hell – weak in mind and body."

"I know," I mutter.

"You should see a doctor," she suggests. "Maybe there's something wrong in your head."

"Maybe," I admit. I wouldn't rule it out.

"This is the Prozac nation, dear brother," she says. "Everyone is a little fucked in the head. Kinda makes you wonder why, huh?"

"Yeah, what a time to be alive," I mutter disdainfully. "So, does this mean we're on speaking terms again?"

She shrugs. "I guess so. I was never mad at you, y'know. I just think you're dumb."

"I am dumb," I admit.

She nods. "You should be nicer to Craig. He's not going to sit around and let you fuck with him forever. Just because you do a few nice things, it doesn't mean the relationship isn't toxic. Someday soon, you'll fuck up worse than ever and he'll run away from you."

"He might not," I say and I think that scares me more than anything.

"But he might," she retorts. "So, if you really want him and if you really love him, then you better fucking show it. From what I see, you're a complete piece of shit."

I force a laugh. "Yeah, I know I am."

She scoffs at me, shaking her head. "So, where was Kevin?"

"He went to Denver to see his supplier," I tell her easily, not having to put any effort forth to come up with a quick fib.

"Is that the lie he told you to tell me or did you make it up just now?" she asks. She knows. She always fucking knows. "He was out hooking again, wasn't he? He was hooking to pay my damn hospital bill."

"No," I murmur.

She clicks her tongue. "Liar. You treat me like a child, but I'm more grown up than you are, Kenny. If you had any semblance of maturity you wouldn't treat people the way you do."

"I know," I admit.

"You're just a scared little boy," she continues. "You're scared of everything and that's why you're so selfish. You treat people like toys. You cheat. You lie. Craig isn't a toy, Kenny. You can't just keep doing whatever you want."

"Maybe he likes it that way," I tell her.

"And maybe he doesn't," she retorts. "You need to talk with him more."

"I talk with him plenty," I insist.

"Maybe," she shrugs, "but you don't talk about the important things. You don't talk about the things he wants and needs to talk about. You love him, right? That's why you're so careful to keep him on a string. You treat him terribly, but then you treat him like a king. That's what abuse is – it's a cycle. If someone treated their partner like shit all the time, then they'd probably get up and leave… but if you're treating them well, then they make up excuses. Craig is probably making up excuses. When you hurt him, he probably writes it off as you having a bad day because just the other day you were acting so sweet. I think you know exactly what you're doing to him and that makes you a bad person."

"Shut up!" I yell at her. I don't want to be a bad person. I don't want to hurt people.

"No!" she yells back. "I need to say this! I've needed to say this to you for a long damn time, Kenny, so you're going to fucking listen because I don't want to grow to hate you!"

I feel my eyes get glassy, but I refuse to cry in front of my little sister.

"You used to be the most selfless person I knew," she says quietly. "What happened to you?"

"I got older," I bite. "I realized kindness does a person no good."

She laughs bitterly. "You're a liar. Kevin's a liar. Everyone is a liar! We lie to each other and we lie to ourselves. Isn't it sad? This is why I've been a bitch to you for so long and you never even realized it!"

"What are you trying to say, Karen?" I ask in a murmur.

"I think you're trying hard to convince yourself that the world is shit because you've been disappointed so many times," she says angrily. "But you don't realize that you're the one making it this way now. Yeah, bad things happen, but guess what? Bad things will keep happening unless you fucking change your ways. So button down, Kenny. It's time to be a better person. It's time to put Craig first."

I close my eyes, forcing away the tears that are trying to squeeze their way out. "I don't know what to do…" I admit.

"Talk to him," she says in a calmer tone. "When you love someone, you should be able to talk about everything. There shouldn't be fear. There shouldn't be jealously. There should just be love and other good things. Don't make Craig feel scared. Make him feel safe, instead. If you're worried he'll leave, don't scare him into staying. Have him want to stay because he's happy."

"Do you think I can?" I ask.

"It's never too late, Kenny," she promises. "So, how about we both try to be a little better?"

"Yeah," my voice cracks. "I want that."

At work the following day, my boss touches my dick and I tell him to fuck off. He just laughs and says, "That's a first." I want to punch him, but I also want to keep my job, so I refrain. I don't want to keep feeling bad about myself. I don't want to keep being an awful person. I don't want to keep hurting Craig. I don't want to keep disappointing Kevin and Karen. I'll do it for them... even if I can't to it for myself just yet.

I get off work around ten at night and when I arrive back home, I call Craig and ask him to come over. As always, he does. He lets himself in and by the time he enters my room, I'm lying in bed. The room is dark and I'm in my pajamas. I feel tired, in and out. I'm not sure why. Everything has been hectic lately and I feel like, emotionally, I can't handle it.

Craig lies down on the bed with me. He's turned to his side, forcing me to stare at his back. "What is it?" he asks me. "Something is wrong. I could tell by the sound of your voice on the phone. You sounded timid. You never sound timid."

I let out a shaky sigh, but for a long time, I don't say a word. I feel like I can't. There are things I want to say, but they won't come out. My throat is closed and I feel a lump forming, too big to swallow. As quiet as I can, I allow my lips to part and I let out a breath, trying to clear my mind and clear my throat. "Am I a bad person?" I finally ask him, shifting closer. I whisper the words, unable to sound any stronger.

"No," is all he says.

"Are you sure?" I urge, pulling him towards me so his back is pressed to my abdomen. "I feel like I'm a bad person. I need to know. Be honest."

"I don't think you're bad," he says. "If you were bad, you wouldn't care about knowing for sure. You wouldn't care about being good. I just think you're scared and because of that, you're also selfish. You hold onto everything you have so desperately and sometimes those things happen to be people. You mistake people for objects because you don't want to lose them… You make me happy, but you scare me sometimes, too. The things you say make you sound insane and sometimes the things you do prove it. You put on this mask and you wear it to protect yourself. I don't think you're really as cold as you act."

"You're making excuses for me," I say.

"Maybe," he admits.

"I'm sorry," I tell him meekly.

"I know," he says. "It's okay."

"No, it's not," I murmur. "It's not okay, Craig."

"Maybe," he agrees, "but don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. You won't lose me."

"We should break up," I say.

"I don't want to," he replies easily.

I tighten my grip on him, pressing my face into his back and letting out a rather sudden sob. He doesn't budge or try to face me. I don't let him. I'm too ashamed.

"I love you," I choke out. "I love you…"

"I know," says Craig. "I know."

"I'm sorry," I continue sobbing. "I love you… I'm sorry…"

With force, he breaks free of my grip, sitting up. I cover my face with my hands and cry into them, feeling sick to my stomach with self-hatred. I haven't cried in quite a while – not since breaking down in Bebe's car. That seems so long ago now.

Craig pulls me into a sitting position, holding me close. I press my face into the crook of his neck and curl my fingers into the fabric of his t-shirt. He lets out a whimper and I think he's crying now, too, but I can tell he's trying not to. He's whispering comfort words – saying things I don't deserve to hear. I just keep sobbing, each sound ripping my throat open 'til it feels raw and sore and I'm nearly screaming. I don't think I've ever cried like this before. I don't think I've ever let myself cry like this before. Why'd it have to happen now? I can feel my eyes leaking, my nose running, and I'm drooling.

"Kenny, look at me," he requests in an uncharacteristically gentle tone. "Please…"

"I can't," I sob. "I can't…"

"You can," he insists softly. "You can, Kenny." He runs his hands up my back, over my shoulders, through my hair. He's patient. He's quiet. He waits.

"Why don't you hate me?" I ask weakly.

"Because I love you," he says simply.

"You shouldn't…" I murmur. "I'm giving you an out... You should take it."

"I don't care what I should and shouldn't do," he shrugs. "You know that and I know that, so fuck the rest."

I sigh into his neck, finally lifting my head. He smiles at me. It's a small smile, just like every other one of his smiles, but this time it's not void of emotion. This time, there's something in it.

"I like seeing this side of you," he admits and I can't help but scoff at that. "Not because I like seeing you in pain," he adds. "I just like knowing you trust me enough to let me see you like this. I've never seen you cry before. It's somewhat relieving."

"Oh," I murmur. "I got snot and drool all over your shirt."

"That's fine," he says. "I think you've needed to cry like that for a while."

I carelessly wipe my nose on my sleeve before doing the same with my eyes, but they keep leaking. It's like, now that I've started, I can't stop. "Fuck," I hiss at myself.

"It's okay," he assures me. "Stop holding things in."

"Says Craig Tucker," I scoff.

He shrugs his shoulders lightly. "I cry when I have to."

He's right. He's just a lot quieter about it. I let out a breath lying down and bringing him with me.

I'm not sure how long we were lying together, but eventually I feel myself calm. I sit up and stare down at Craig. He is still lying with his head against my pillow. I don't think he's asleep, but his eyes are closed. I fetch my laptop and open it up. My laptop is old and clunky, but I can't afford a new one. I open up a fresh word document and decide to do some reflective writing or angry ranting, whatever you wanna call this shit. I'll read it in one year and hopefully I'll have changed by then.

I don't really know how to start this off. I've never been much of a writer. I know Karen would laugh and tell me to stop being such a baby, but I can't. I'm a big fucking baby. I keep screwing up. I keep screwing Craig up. I don't want to hurt him, but I know I am. You're not supposed to hurt the people you love. That makes you a bad person. I don't want to be a bad person, but I get into moods where I just don't care and I get so selfish. I know he pretends he's indifferent towards all the shit I put him through, but I know, deep down, he probably doesn't like it. I can be mean. I can be impatient. I can be rough around the edges and worse. I can be all the bad things and I can be all the bad things at the same time. Sometimes I'll catch myself in the midst of doing or saying something I shouldn't, but I still can't stop myself. If we're fucking and Craig sounds like he's in pain, I'll keep going because he doesn't tell me to stop. I think I've learned that, "Yes," and, "I'm fine," can mean something different. Just because I tell him, "I love you," it doesn't fix all the things I've done wrong. It's not like putting a bandage over a scrape, or smothering an ugly memory.

He hates when I cheat, but I keep doing it. I keep letting other people have the parts of me Craig wishes I wouldn't. I'm insensitive. I want everything. I allow myself to be ruled by my impulsive emotions, not bothering to think of the possible future consequences. I'm going to try to stop doing things like that.

Craig deserves better than me. I'm controlling. I guess some would call this abuse. I project my anger onto him. Clearly, I have a lot to work on. So, to myself I'd like to say –

Don't drink so much. There are periods in your life where you won't eat for days and liquor will hit you hard. Too hard. You'll get yourself into trouble and you'll get yourself hurt. There are nights Craig won't be able to save you from. There are nights you won't be able to save yourself from. Take a page from Kevin's book and cut the hard stuff. It's not worth it. Be nice to people. Be nice to Craig. Be nice to your friends, even though they're distant these days. Be patient with your family, because they're doing the best damn job they can. Save your money. Don't blow it on stupid things. Don't blow it on shit that won't last or do you any good in the long run. Save your money and try to take care of people.

In the meantime, just breathe. Death is bitter, but you know that already, don't you?

"What are you writing about?" Craig asks when I stop typing. He sits up and stares at the words.

"You… me... us…" I tell him.

"Oh." He shifts close to me, reading the words on the screen.

"Remember how we got together?" I suddenly ask.

"How could I forget?"

I feel my smile widen. We were seventeen, in grade eleven. We were at Stark's pond. It was summertime. I was goofing off. I said something stupid and he rolled his eyes at me. We both decided to go swimming. Skinny dipping, to be exact. Craig brushed off the idea first, but I ended up convincing him it would be fun. The rest is history and after that, I fell in love. I fell hard and fast. I tried to stop it, but you can't exactly control the way you feel. I get that now.

"Wanna go for a walk?" I offer, closing my laptop once he stops reading. It's nearing midnight, but I don't feel as tired.

"Okay," Craig says. "Where to?"

"Stark's pond," I tell him.

I get up and together, we leave. It's dark outside, but it's particularly warm outside. The walk doesn't take long. Nothing in South Park takes long.

"Why are we here?" Craig asks as we approach the pond.

"It makes me feel nostalgic," I tell him.

When we reach the familiar body of water, I let out a little laugh and begin taking off my clothes. "What the hell are you doing?" Craig asks in a deadpan.

"Duh, I'm going swimming," I declare, wiggling my eyebrows at him before dropping my shorts and jumping in the water naked. I close my eyes as the cold water rushes over every inch of me. When I surface, I shout to Craig, "Come join me!"

"Fuck no," he shakes his head at me.

"Come onnn!" I urge. "Pleeeease?"

He rolls his eyes, stepping out of his sneakers and taking off his socks. He reaches for the edge of his t-shirt and pulls it over his head and then reaches for the rim of his jeans and boxers, pulling them down. "Is it cold?" he asks, eyeing the water and wrinkling his nose.

"Nah," I say, grinning at him. "It feels nice."

He lets out an audible sigh, stepping in slowly. "Ah… ah… ah…" he lets out a string of gasps. "Fuck." As he makes his way towards me, the water gets deeper. Once it reaches his waist, he ducks, disappearing under water.

"Craig?" I call.

He doesn't surface.

"Dude!" I yell.

Then I feel a hand on my balls and I nearly jump out of my skin. He surfaces directly in front of me a moment later and laughs.

I laugh along with him. "You're somethin' else," I tell him, cupping his face in my hands and placing and open-mouthed kiss on his lips. "Mine."

"Yours," he agrees.

"How funny would it be if someone walked and saw us like this?" I ask with a little snicker.

"Not funny at all," he says, wrinkling his nose at the thought of it.

"It'd be a little funny," I insist. But it's late and not very likely.

A short while later we get out of the water. We sit on the grass and wait for our skin to dry. After getting dressed, we make our way to Craig's house. His parents greet us with a wary kind of knowingness that tells me they're perfectly aware of the things I do to their boy. Nonetheless, they don't seem to care.

Upstairs, Craig and I take a shower together. He lets me wash him and I let him wash me. Afterward, Craig turns off the taps and we both wrap ourselves in towels before crossing the hall into Craig's room. He continues towel drying his hair and when he's finished, it's stuck up in odd angles. I snicker, smoothing it back down. As I do this, I feel his hand on my chest, slowly travelling down south.

"Dude," I start, "your parents are home, remember?"

"That's okay," Craig says. "Let them listen."

"That's fucked up," I tell him with a laugh. But then again, I like him this way.

"You like it," he says knowingly.

I just smile at him. This time, like the last time, we're gentle with each other. He doesn't scratch up my back and I don't fuck him dry. I kiss him. I tell him I love him. I kiss him again. He says it back. He moans. He's loud. The door is still open. We don't care.

I get home late and my parents are sitting in the kitchen. I'm relieved because, as bad as they are, I don't want anything to happen to them. I greet them and they nod back. It makes my heart palpitate because it isn't often they acknowledge me. But I won't ruin it by trying to talk to them and make it something more than it is. I just smile and go upstairs.

I'm not perfect. I never will be. I'm far from it… but for Kevin, for Karen, for Craig and for me, I'm trying to be something more than what I am. I know that's all I really can do.

Fin.