For The Sake of Forever

A fanfic from the slightly disturbed mind of the Californian who hates California.

Chapter 1: Everyday Is a Familiar Adventure

I woke up at exactly six o' clock in the morning. I always woke up at exactly six o' clock in the morning. That was of course, after I died the previous night. I suppose my birthday was some sort of unknown curse. I died everyday. And no, it's not some sort of gothic, depressed minded metaphor. I died everyday. I woke up, hung out a bit, and then it was "Oh my god! They killed Kenny!" Funny how my friends and family witnessed my death so many times, and are yet always surprised when it comes around again. They don't know. They don't realize that I've died exactly 3,207 times. That's right, I calculated it. That's a series of deaths over eight years, three months, two weeks, and two days since the age of eight. Save a few odd days in which I was strangely awarded a death-free holiday, I died everyday. But know one seems to know it. I'm the only one.

Alright, so I wasn't the only one aware of my situation. Between the time of my death and six o' clock in the morning I spent my time with my best friend Damien in Hell. He was really a best friend by default. He was geeky and annoying at times, but I saw him everyday, and sometimes for longer periods of time than my friends at home. I'm glad he's my friend, though. Before I met him when he came up to South Park-- which by the way, was an unpleasant start to a relationship-- I sort of drifted about. I guess that's considered being a ghost. I don't know, I don't remember too much of those times. I was way too confused and I couldn't grasp what was happening. I still can't at times. I don't know why this started happening and why to me.

When I died, I'd plummet into Hell and he'd be there waiting. Pale, white Damien, all dressed in black. A quiet, strange boy. He was weird, but I guess he had a pretty good excuse as the son of Satan. Hell wasn't all that different from South Park, except the excessive fire and heat. On an average day, we'd spend the time in his room playing video games. It was kind of boring, but it was a hell of a lot better than floating around unnoticed.

It really was living with a curse. I hated it so much, there was a time where I'd wake up at my usual time in the morning and by 6:01 AM I'd put a bullet in my own head. What was the point? Living to die... everything was meaningless. How the hell was I supposed to have a life? I didn't.

Suicide was a part of my daily routine for a good year. It would've continued even longer, but I soon found something to live for. I developed an extreme crush on my close friend Stan. I remember the exact moment I fell for him. We were fourteen and on summer break. He, Kyle, and I were at the community pool swimming. Because of the intense heat that day, the pool was packed.

I was minding my own business, just swimming with my friends, when something hit me in the head. I still don't know what it was, maybe a volley ball... I saw a group of kids throwing one of those around earlier... But I didn't die then, I just sort of knocked out for a bit. I would die later that day, trying to plug in my radio, still drenched in water.

I sunk to the bottom of the pool, and just as I opened my eyes to find myself under water, Stan was already pulling me back up to the top. When we surfaced, I was coughing uncontrollably and Stan swam, carrying me to the edge of the pool. He held me up against the wall of the pool, and beat on my back, trying to help my coughing fit.

"You okay, Kenny?"

"Yeah..." I rubbed my eyes, which were terribly irritated from the chlorine. I looked up at Stan, whose face was an inch or two from my own, his blue eyes staring at me with concern. His eyes... were so caring... and beautiful. I don't know why I hadn't noticed them before. I suppose that was the first time I had ever been that close and actually looked at them. And once I noticed those eyes, I noticed that smooth, jet black hair, his muscular body, his tight ass...everything. No wonder all the girls tagged after him at school all the time. Stan was hot and a classic pretty boy. He didn't have a girlfriend and never had one, except for his childhood "girlfriend" Wendy.

And then I found out from Kyle that he was gay. He had only told Kyle, after confessing that he was in fact in love with the redhead. But Kyle didn't feel the same way, and Stan was heartbroken, Kyle confused, and I died before I got the chance to comfort either of them. The next day, neither would remember ever discussing the matter with me. Nobody seemed to remember what they did with me the previous day. I was just sort of always there, not recognized.

Stan liked guys and he thought only he and Kyle knew it, unaware of my knowledge. I liked guys, Stan in particular, and no one knew it but me. I told my mother once, and she flipped, but it didn't matter, because she forgot within twenty-four hours.

So since that summer day, I lived for however long I was given, just for Stan. I lived just to see him. He was my life... or lives. I wish my lives were longer. I wish I hadn't had this curse. I wish I could just live one life. Just one that was more than a day. I longed to have a regular life especially after finding that Stan was also interested in me.

Because rejection would be ridiculously feared with my situation, I came out and told Stan how I felt one day. It was a little after I turned sixteen, some three months ago. "Stan, you do know that I'm gay, right?" I said casually as the two of us walked home from school alone together; Kyle was sick that day.

Stan stopped in his tracks and looked at me with widened eyes, "You... you are?"

I nodded, "Yeah..." I tried to keep cool, "I didn't know if you knew... so I thought I'd let you know..."

"Oh...well... that's cool... um..." Stan's face grew slightly red, " too..." he confessed quietly.

We stared at each other for a while. "That's cool..." I said and we continued walking. We were both quiet for several minutes. Knowing that death could come at any minute, I forced myself to continue, "Stan?"


"You... you wanna see a movie together this weekend?"

He paused, "Like... a date?"


"I... er... uh... I... sure."


Stan nodded shyly. I never saw him so shy before. "Um, Saturday?"

"Yeah, sounds good..." I said, gloomily and secretly knowing that this date would never ever take place.

"What time?"

I shrugged, "Noon?"

Stan nodded and smiled, "Okay."

I smiled back, "Cool."

And to make sure, I asked him on that same date seven times. Each time I told him I was gay, he confessed that he was gay, and he agreed to see a movie with me. On one occasion, he asked me out before I had the chance to ask him.

Now that I knew that Stan and I could possibly be together if I wasn't cursed, I was almost finding myself slipping into suicide again. I woke up at six o' clock in the morning and laid in bed for a while, wondering if it was worth getting up that Saturday. I decided that I was gonna try and really live the day, and finally go on that date with Stan. Yeah, what was the worse that could happen? I picked up the phone and dialed Stan's cell.

"Hello?" I heard a drowsy voice on the other end.

I froze, remembering that it was six, "Uh, hey, Stan. It's me Kenny."

I heard him yawn, "Hey..."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up so early..."

"It's okay... What are you doing up so early anyway?"

"I... I was just thinking..." I paused, "Stan, can I tell you something?"

"What?" I heard a hint of heightened interest in his voice.

"I'm gay."

There was a pause, "Oh... well... that's cool... um... me too..." he responded as always.

"That's cool... I was wondering... do you wanna see a movie with me today?"

Another pause, "Like... a date?"


"I... er... uh... I... sure."



"So um, I'll pick you up at noon, okay?"

"Okay... sounds... great..."

"Alright, see you at noon then, right?"

"Right. Noon. Can't wait... bye."

"Bye." I hung up the phone. "He can't wait," I smiled to myself and then ran down the hall quickly to take a shower and get ready.

I had to fight with my brother for almost an hour to let me use the car that day. He demanded to know why I needed the car when I usually was satisfied with walking and taking the bus, but I couldn't tell him that I was taking someone out on a date. He'd ask who, or rather demand, and it could've resulted in a family wide drama that I did not need that day.

Despite the obstacle, I made it to Stan's at exactly noon to take him to see a movie; a thriller that was just released called "A Mad Man's Revenge." It looked terrifying by the trailer, but I pretended that I wasn't at all bothered by it, although I was. Stan seemed extremely excited to see it.

As we drove to the theaters, there was this awkward silence between us. Stan finally broke the tension by starting a conversation about our Friday's English test. "I think I bombed it... how about you?"

"I... er... didn't take it..."

"You didn't?"

"No." Of course I didn't. I choked on my breakfast that morning and never made it to school. "I was sick on Friday."

"Oh... I didn't notice..."

Of course he didn't. No one ever noticed when I was gone. "Yeah... it was just a small cold, and my mother overreacted," I lied.

"How are you feeling now?"

"Fine. I'm fine. Completely healthy."

He smiled, "Good."

I returned a smile as we pulled into the parking lot.

The movie was terrifying. For a majority of the film, I wasn't even looking at the screen, but at Stan who stared at the film, smiling and mesmerized by the whole thing. It was incredibly cute.

We left the theater with him talking endlessly about the genius of the movie, which I honestly didn't really enjoy. "It was so awesome! Wasn't it awesome?"

I nodded, grinning back at him, "Yeah. Really sweet."


I laughed a little, "So where do you wanna go now?"

He paused, "How 'bout we get some ice cream. I'll treat, since you bought the popcorn in there."


But I unfortunately didn't make it for the ice cream. A car hit us on the drive to Dairy Queen. Of course, the impact only affected me. Stan was fine.

"Crap!" I shouted when I jumped up, brushing myself off, now in Hell.

I heard laughter from behind and turned to find Damien, sitting there on some cooled lava. "What happened?" he stood and jumped across a lake of fire and started towards me.

"I had to die then! Why couldn't it wait for a couple of hours?"

Damien raised an eyebrow, "What exactly were you doing?"

"I was on a date."

"Oh?" he grinned, "With who?"

"No one... some... chick..." Damien had no idea I was gay. I didn't want to scare away my only real friend.

"Ah," he said, "But she must've been something, if you're so upset."

"Nah, it's nothing. She's nothing. Forget it."

"She will."

"Shut up."

Damien smirked, "Lighten up, Dude."

I sighed, "So what do you wanna do today?"

"Uh... first... I gotta talk to you..." he scratched at his hair and kept his eyes nervously on the ground. By his tone, I knew what he wanted to say was serious. I stared at him, trying to figure out what he could possibly have to say.

"What's going on?"

He bit his lip and looked up at me with a frown. "My dad... he wanted me to ask you a favor..."

"Your dad?"




"The devil?"


"Why ask me?"

"I dunno... he just asked me if you were 'the Kenny McCormick' and I said 'Yeah' and he asked me to ask you for help..."

I was extremely skeptical. And what the fuck did he mean by the Kenny McCormick? "Okay... What is it?"

"He... wants you to help him with this plan of his... I don't really know what exactly this plan is... But he said that if you helped... He said that he'd solve your problem..."

"What problem is that?"

"You know... how you die everyday..."

I blinked at Damien, who kept his stare somewhere else. "He... he can stop that?"

Damien nodded and then looked at me. "He'll do it, if you help him that is..." The kid reached into his back pocket and pulled out a rusty looking dagger. The blade was worn and ragged and the handle was a blood red.

"Whoa..." I backed up slightly, "What is this?"

"I dunno. Dad says if you take it, you're agreeing to do it. That's all he said. But Kenny," he began, looking me straight in the eyes, speaking with an even more severe manner, "I'm not sure if you should do this, Dude... I don't know what it is, but well..." he waved the dagger around a bit, "This isn't very... promising..."

"If I take that," I pointed at the dagger, "He'll make it so that I don't die every fucking day?"

"Yeah, but--"

I grabbed the dagger from his hands, "I'll do anything."

So how is it so far? Please review and tell me what you think.