My editor was taking to long to edit this, so I used Microsoft's Spell Check and Grammar check and made some adjustments myself. Excuse me for my poor English. v_v

"Kenny...If I died, what would you do?"

Well, Kyle. I never really thought about it. Not because I didn't love you, but because thinking about your imminent doom and death was excruciatingly painful for me. Why? Because if you died, you wouldn't come back. At all. My deaths are meaningless and at random (unless I decide them) because I am immortal. And I always return to Earth.
I never really thought about what I would do, until it happened.
But in my heart, I knew your death was unavoidable. You're too good for Satan not to fuck with.

I was looking everywhere. This was your first concert with me, on a date, and you had been dragged in to the moshpit. We were at a Blood on the Dance Floor concert, so the moshpit didn't make sense. I guess people will mosh to anything.

Thinking back on that, I'm glad you didn't come with me to Warped Tour. There were so many moshpits...

I was just about to head for security when I heard you scream.
"Kenny! Help!" I looked toward the scream and saw you... on top of the crowd. They had picked you up to push you through to the front in a wave. I'm a level above where that's going on... and I do the craziest, and stupidest, thing I've ever done in my life.
I jump from the ledge I'm on down onto the wave. People catch me, thankfully, and push me closer to you.
"Kyle!" You turn your head and stretch out your hand. Before I can reach it, you are thrown in the air. I gasp and bark at people to let me go as I fight my way down. Finally, I'm on the ground. I push through people and am now in the middle of the moshpit.
People are hitting me and scraping me as they mosh, but I don't care. I wait, arms open and ready to catch you. A moment later, you land in my arms and I smile as I look at your bewildered face.
"Hi there."
You scowl at me and say, "From now on, I'm cuffing myself to you at concerts."
We both laugh full-heartedly.

That was the last time I saw your smile, Kyle. You were eternally damned to Hell because of your homosexuality. But... aren't you Jewish? Was it your unholiness? Your lack of faither after you turned 15?
It doesn't matter, thought. 'Cause whether you're damned to Hell or ascended to Heaven, I still love you.

"Kenny. If I died, would you mourn my death?"

Oh Kyle. I'd do more than just mourn. I would go beserk...
Or so I thought.
Instead, I went mentally ill.

I can still remember your death.

It's been months, and still you are in the hospital. It's been months, and still you are not better. Not even with today's advanced technology. If I could do something to make you well again, I would. But what can I do?
Kyle... why are you dying?
"He has acute lymphoblastic leukemia."
Those words ring in my ear as the doctor leaves me with your parents.
Leukemia? You have cancer, Kyle. They've put you through chemotherapy twice already. To no avail. You are going to die. And I could do nothing but watch. Watch and wait as the one I love most dies in front of me.

This next part, Kyle, is the hardest for me to recall. It caused me so much grief and so much pain.

Your eyes flutter open and I think everything's going to be okay... but... you're still pale and you're cold. Ice cold. And when you speak, your voice is weak and raspy. Like a ghost.
That imagery was not pleasant to my already unstable mind.
"Kenny. I'm glad you're here. I want to tell you something." Youbriefly look at your parents and they nod, leaving us alone.
"What is it Kyle?" I grab your icy hand and stare deeply into your forest green eyes. You try to smile, but you're too weak to do even that. But I can see the smile reach your eyes, if even just for a fraction of a second, before it dissipates.
Your eyes which used to be so full of life, love, compassion and happiness. Now they're full of fear, regret, sorrow, and a hint of death. Then... you say three tiny words with so much meaning. Three words I never thought I was capable of acknowledging or understanding. Three words that would be etched into my memory forever.
"I love you." I feel tears prickle in my eyes.
"I love you, too, Kyle." You attempt to smile once more,but cannot. I can feel tears trickling down my face.
"Kenny..." You whisper. And my immediate attention is directed at you. "Don't cry. You're too proud to cry. Tell Stan, when he gets home from visiting family, that he was my super best friend." I can hear the sadness in your voice. I know you don't want to die.
"Of course Kyle. I'll tell him," I know my voice is shaking. This is too emotional for me. God dammit, Kyle... why did you wait till now to say that you loved me? Why?
"Don't cry..." Those were your last words. You close your eyes and draw your final breath... and my mind shatters like glass. So beautiful... even in death.

And now I stand in front of your grave for the millionth time since you passed away all those months ago. You were only 16... I am now 17. You should be 17 too.
I touch your grave stone and read your epitaph. I already knew what it said, after all, I wrote it.
"He lies the body of Kyle Broflovski. Jewish; Son; Future Valedictorian; Super Best Friend; Lover. He stole the hearts of many and the soul of one. He is treasured and missed. May he rest in eternal peace. Born May 26, 1993. Died April 29, 2009."

I grab the gun I had hidden in my coat. I press it to my head and pull the trigger. There's a collective "BOOM" and I'm in Hell.
You're standing there, arms crossed and scowl on your face. I smile.
"What took you so long to get here?"
"Sorry Kyle. My dad hid the gun. He hates that I'm killing myself everyday."
You smile then and kiss my cheek. "Let's go, Kenny. Damien and Satan set up a special place for us today."
In Hell, we've made ammends with Satan. So he and his son are out best friends. You know what they say, "have friends in high places". But they accept us for us.

And to answer your first question, Kyle. I'd kill myself everyday if it means I get to see your face.

So there you have it. Simplicity.
It was named because it was simple story I conjured up.
April 29, 2009 was the exact date my grandpa died of the exact same Cancer Kyle contracted in this story. This is more of a tribute to my deceased grandfather. May he rest in peace.

Love,
Your author