I try not to be selfish.

Honestly. I really do. Which, I guess, is why I'm still breathing right now. Because I know, deep down, that, yes, I would be missed. Maybe not forever and maybe not too much but I would be missed. I do mean something to someone. I'm not stupid.

And I'm not some whiny little girl who got dumped by her boyfriend and thinks the whole damn world is set against her. No. I'm stronger than that and smarter than that and I'm not governed solely by hormones. Well, being a guy like me, yeah, hormones play a part in my life, but not everything. Like I said, I'm not stupid. It probably is just the hormones, though. I'm, what, sixteen now? I forget sometimes, since no one ever celebrates my birthday. I forget when it is a lot. So I guess the whole thing is just a phase. Which is why I'm trying to fight it. I've got a life ahead of me, and I've got friends and family. My life isn't so bad, so I'm not really sure why I want to throw it away so badly, but I do.

Yeah. I want to die. I'm going to tell you that because I honestly don't care. I die every day. But it means nothing because I'm always back by morning. So no one cares.

No, that's not true either. It's not that they don't care, really… It's just that no one is concerned. I die so much that if they cried every time I got hit by a car or attacked by a bear, they'd end up wanting the same thing I do. And I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of me, so I guess it's okay.

My life isn't really so crumby. I've got a decent home with nice parents, even if they do get drunk to much. It's not like they hate me. They do care, they just… you know, work differently than other families. And I have an older brother who can care about me and get really protective if he thinks he needs to. And my little sister needs me around. I've got good friends, too. Stan and Kyle especially. Those two are inseparable, and they've known each other forever. I know I'm not on the top of their list of friends, but that's where they are on mine. Cartman's sort of an ass and most of the time I hate his guts- but I think he thinks of me as his best friend. And sometimes I think I would actually care if he got hurt or something. I don't have a lot of money to go on for college or anything so I'll probably just start working after high school, but it won't be so bad. I can find a good job, I'm pretty good with my hands. I'm pretty fast and pretty strong if I say so myself, and I've got a damn good voice. I've been to the best Romanian opera school, even if it was short lived. I sing in the park sometimes for extra money. Mostly when Stan and Kyle are busy.

So I guess my life isn't perfect, but it isn't bad either. So I can't die for real. I've died hundreds of times- every way you can think of and every way you wouldn't want to. The only thing I've never done is kill myself. Because if I did that I think I really would stay dead. And I can't do that, because people really would cry for me.

Nothing happened to me that suddenly changed my perspective on life and made me want to kill myself. I haven't had some tragic life and I'm not alone in the world.

But I want to die.

So, if you've been listening, and I'll say it again for those who haven't been, you'll know I'm being honest when I say I try not to be selfish. I don't want to make anyone cry because of me. I'm not worth crying over. That's why I'm still alive.

I just don't want to be selfish.


Kenny shut his eyes, also shutting out the rambling of his history teacher. To him, it meant nothing but annoying, trivial knowledge filling up his brain when he would surely never use it. So rather than pay attention to his teacher's lecture, he tore a sheet of paper out of his notebook and scribbled a hasty message on it.

Can you believe this shit?

He handed it to Butters who, nervously passed it over to Kyle who sat beside him.

Kyle looked it over for a second and shook his head, then wrote something and passed it back.

God, I know. I can't believe we have to sit through another damn hour of this.

Kenny wrote one back.

You wanna bail?

Butters passed it, terrified.

No way, dude, if we get caught my mom will have my head. And they're sending out those automated phone calls to parents if you miss class now, remember?

No shit? My parents don't have a phone and they probably wouldn't care anyway.

Dude, I'm sorry.


Kyle bit his lip, and looked over, shaking his head. Kenny made a non-committal gesture and shrugged. Kyle wrote something and passed it back.

So how you gonna get me out of here?

Kenny smiled suddenly and noticed Kyle let out a sigh. He knew what Kenny was going to say next.

You mean how am I gonna get you and your boyfriend out?

Shut the hell up Kenny.

Come on dude, have you seen yourself in that past six years? If you two start fucking you sure as hell better tell me.

Kyle blushed violently upon reading the note and turned to glare at Kenny with murderous intent. Kenny shrugged, a mad grin playing across his face. He scribbled something angrily and passed it back.

I am NOT gay you asshole.

Yeah well Stan is.

No. No he's not. Shut the hell up.



But, hypothetically speaking, if you WERE fucking…

Yes, Kenny. Hypothetically speaking if I spontaneously began fucking my best friend, you would be the first to know.

You better.

Right. Well anyway get me out of here.

Alright. You could, Kenny paused, thinking, play sick and I'll take you to the nurse. Then we'll bail and go to the sushi place across the street.

Nikki's? Why?

I'm hungry and you owe me sushi.

Since when?

Don't you remember the time I got stoned and started yelling at those foreign exchange students and you told me to be more culturally diverse? Well, sushi is culturally diverse.

Fuck you, Kenny.

No, fuck Stan!


You set me up for it. Now start moaning or something.

Was that WITH innuendo or without?

Without, I want my sushi.

What about Stan?

I'll just text him. He's in, what, gym right now? They wouldn't notice if he walked out the front door.


And that was how they ended up across the street, arguing in front of Nikki's, and attempting to decide if they could afford sushi. Of course, they couldn't, so, being such hard-to-please (insert irony here if you well) teenagers, they simply went into Mcdonalds instead.

Why is this day important to Kenny's life? Why have I chosen to share this, of all the days in poor Kenny McCormick's life, particular one with you? You surely must wonder why this holds any importance, and to tell you would surely ruin what you would say is the surprise. But to many of the children attending South Park High, most significantly Kenny, it was not a surprise that this event should come to pass. No, they had been expecting it. But you have only just met these children, you have no idea where their previous adventures together have led them. Or perhaps you do. But I am merely telling their story, and I must tell it plainly.

This is the day when Kenny's life began to change dramatically, because it was the day when Kyle Broflowski finally admitted to his friend that, yes, he did, in fact, like Stan Marsh. As I said, this was no surprise to those who knew them, but perhaps to you it is. I shall continue with the story, and let you decide that for yourself as you begin to understand who these children are, for, by the time my tale is done, you will know them.


Draik: So I guess I'm going to start a new one. Why?
Kenny: ...Why is it about me agai-

Draik: WHY I SAY?

Kenny: I just asked wh-

Draik: Fine. I shall tell you anyway. Writing fanfiction or just writing anything is a big stress reliever for me, and I'm really stressed out with crazy school and stuff right now. I've got three weeks to finish a painting for honors art III, and I stink at painting, I've got algebra tests and english papers and videos to script and homework to do and work and I'm always trying to get my name somewhere and... sigh.

Kyle: You're off topic!
Draik: THAT I AM.


Draik: Anywho, I'm going to apply for a local paper to be a cartoonist on freelance. Cross your fingers for me, puh-leaze! I get the results back in November.