Thank you for all the reviews~! This is like the first time that I've ever written for this show, so I'm happy that I'm successful so far! ^^ You all make me so happy! Remember, reviews mean faster updates!

Oh, and I guess that I should put a disclaimer here.

I OWN ALL CHARACTERS BECAUSE I MADE SOUTH PARK. BOW DOWN TO ME AND WORSHIP ME.

No, I didn't. I own nothing. God, you guys, why do we put these things up? It's ! Note the 'fan' part! And besides, if I owned South Park, do you really think I'd be writing fanfiction for it? Christ!

And now, onto the story. So yeah.

On that day, what did the boy feel?

What was he thinking?

How did he make himself jump?

Kenny was again climbing to the top of the building. The tenth floor had not changed since he had visited a few days ago. He had been a bit hesitant to come back, ever since that day. He had tried to forget the 'dream' because it was just a bit too fantastic, and if he didn't, it just might become real.

Then again, this was South Park.

This place, this building, gave him comfort from the outside world. It was a bittersweet, melancholy feeling, as if he had returned to the place that had given birth to him. When he was here, he felt as if he could understand what the boy had thought and seen. He felt as if he could fuse and he one with the boy.

Usually, it was that way. But today was different.

He couldn't empathize with the boy. He couldn't feel anything. The poems the boy had left behind ceased to tell him things. It was because of that 'dream'. Because it had stirred his reality.

He stared intently, in an attempt to summon forth the words from the ash-colored walls. He mumbled the words that used to appear before his eyes as if they were a song.

"Crap. Crap. Crap..."

The landscape at dusk. The black sketches. The color of blood on his dirty hands. Black lines. The torn drawing. The word 'crap'.

It was a drawing of a worthless world. Of course it was worth crap.

If you can't understand that, Kenny told himself, you're full of even more crap.

"Crap. Crap. Crap."

The words were like an ink brush that drew an enormous picture in Kenny's mind. And finally, the fusion grew anew. An irrepressible surge ran throughout his body.

Yes. This is my revenge.

He sought vengeance against the meaning of his birth. Vengeance against himself.

Without even noticing it, Kenny started singing. Quietly at first, and then louder and louder until he was almost shouting.

"Tonight, my head is spinning..." Kenny opened the window and climbed onto the windowsill. Leaning half of his body outside, he stood up. "I need something to pick me up. I've tried but nothing is working." He would become that boy on that fateful day, and he would feel as the boy once felt, standing here one year ago."I won't stop, I won't say I've had enough." He had only been alive for fourteen years, yet he had seen the end of the world. "Tonight, I start the fire." Life is crap. He spat on all landscapes. "Tonight, I break away." Who would try to stop the boy's flight now? "Break away from everybody, break away from everything. If you can stand the way this place is take yourself to all your places..."

"And now," Kenny said, "I, too, will fly."

Go to the extreme, to the highest height. Nobody could stop him now. Not even that Goth boy, Damien.

Damien? He stopped, sweat pouring from everywhere on his body.

"...No... It was only a dream..."

He didn't even have to turn around to know.

~Fsht

"The death you yearn for... will not come like that. Didn't I tell you?"

The demon stood there.

His pale lips parted as he spoke. "You can go ahead and die, but we have no schedule for you. So the Grim Reaper can't take you soul to Hell, let alone Heaven. Unscheduled souls are rarely welcome. They get left in holding for a while, and sometimes, they're forgotten. You might end up drifting in limbo for all eternity. In other words, you won't get to where you want to go."

"Shut up, you!" Kenny barked suddenly. Damien didn't blink. "You show up all of a sudden, talking this nonsense at me." Kenny came down from the windowsill and back into the room. He approached Damien angrily.

"Don't mess with my reality! Don't into my soul, stepping all over it with your dirty shoes!"

"..." Damien stood there quietly.

Kenny's tirade continued. "You're nothing but a dream! There's no way you're real! So I'm not afraid of you! I'm not afraid!"

"I see... so what you're saying is, you are afraid."

The words took Kenny by surprise, and his composure began to falter.

"Is it me you're afraid of?" Damien asked. "Or... dying?"

"I'm not afraid to die! And I'm not afraid of you either! Compared to the pain of living, dying is nothing..."

This time, Damien spoke with a controlled, steady voice. "Then hurry up and die."

Strange that such power and intimidation could reside within such a short, childish demon's gaze.

But what was even more surprising to Kenny was that when he turned around, he noticed the sad, almost pained, expression on the boy's face. His face was marred by a heretofore unseen expression of emotion, of pain. His eyes remained fixed on Kenny. He couldn't fathom why he would look at him so sadly. After all, wasn't he the Son of Satan, the Anti-Christ himself?

"Dying is better than living, eh? Is that what you think?" Damien shook his head emphatically. His low voice tore through the air like pounding raindrops. "Don't be a fool. That's not possible. Do you know how many people who die beg to come back to life? Beg to be given one more chance? While working the Gates, I've listened to the words of those who yearned to live. I've had to ignore their tears and hopeless smiles."

"But I want to die." the boy said.

"You'll die, and then what?"

"I dunno. I'll escape. I'll become light. A light that will shine forever."

"You can't."

"I can too!" he said adamantly. "Artists who died without ever hearing a single word of praise for their work while they lived... Their works are not worth an insane, astronomical sum. That's right. They achieved illumination! Only after they died for good, for good, did they shine brightly. They left a message that would remain for all eternity. So I'll die too, and I'll shine! And maybe everyone'll feel bad because they never cared!"

"You're wrong about that." Damien disagreed.

"What's wrong?"

Damien continued to look at Kenny. His sad eyes quickly changed into something more pitying.

"People can not shine by dying. The only reason they appear is because they struggled so hard to live, and if they survived, they shone. Simply put, death is not the same as survival. What about you? Are you trying your best at living?"

Kenny was unable to answer. The words cut emotions he thought he had lost resurfaced. The heart buried within the cold piece of machinery he had built around himself began to throb with pain.

"One year ago," Damien recounted, "I was visiting and met the boy with whom you identify yourself. I told him that he didn't have to die; that he had a life to live, and everyone would miss him. When he took his own life, the boy said, 'This is what I choose.' But he seemed to be in such pain. So lonely. He told me not to let anyone die like this, here, again. That is why I am here. Of course, it is a sad thing... when people wish to die, yet at the same time they yearn to live."

Kenny wanted to say so many thing to him. Why are you so sad? Why do you look at me with such sad eyes? Don't look at me with so much fucking pity!

Instead, he shouted, "You have no right to look at me that way!"

And he ran.

He ran past Damien and stumbled down the stairs.

The demon was left in the room, looking at where Kenny had been standing, and he walked up towards the window and peering out at the orange sunset.

"It's so pretty when you're looking down at it...

I hate doing the dishes because it's right next to the window and it's always dark outside. It's pretty creepy. So.

Oh, and I won a Kenny doll at Kings Island! First thing I did when I got home was give him a tour of the house. But yesterday my boyfriend and his friends were tossing him around like a football and his drawstring ripped off. I'm pretty pissed. The guy who did it has the bite marks to prove it.

Oh, and the song is Break, by Three Days Grace.