My boots crunched in the white snow packed on the ground as I walked down the streets of our little town; my orange parka wrapped around me, protecting me from the cold winter air with its warmth. Yeah, like hell it was; freezing my fucking ass off was more like it.

But, it wasn't much better at all in my house; I'd choose freezing my ass off outside than freezing my ass off inside while listening to my parents get drunk and yell at each other any time. I wondered where I could go just to cool down for a bit before going home - my temper, that is; I was already quite cold.

It's a shame it had to be this way,

It's not enough to say I'm sorry,

It's not enough to say I'm sorry.

I knew Cartman wasn't even an option if no one else was there; the fatass killed me all the time, mostly by accident but still. It fucking hurt and I'd rather not today, if I'd just end up waking up in that hell hole of a house.

Really, if they'd just try for once to get over their problems, then I wouldn't be as pissed as I was; even better, if they didn't blame each other for everything and got actual jobs, we might even be able to have a decent meal for dinner each night. But, no, they had to spend it on crack and beer, ignoring me and Kev starving in the corner.

A breeze started, the snow that was gently drifting down before now picked up and came down heavier; telltale sign a storm was going to come. I sighed; Kyle's house was the closest, I figured while pulling the strings of my hood tighter. I'd just hang out for a bit and go home after raiding his fridge.

Maybe I'm to blame

Or maybe were the same,

But either way I can't breathe,

Either way I can't breathe.

As Kyle's house came into view, I started to feel a little better about my home; at least I had friends who made this immortal life worth living. Except Cartman because he's a jackass but, still, even he made me feel better about my life; I had more friends than he'd ever have in his existence.

I wondered if I should knock or check if he had company first; I mean, if it were someone I didn't know, I'd probably end up embarrassing him. Cause, seriously, a nice, decent guy like Kyle being friends with a grubby sixteen year old from a white-trash, dirt poor home? I wouldn't want to degrade him like that.

I trudged through the snow on his front lawn, sneaking up to the window; I'd just check to see if anyone was in his living room and, if he was just watching TV like usual, I'd make myself at home. Using my glove to wipe the small square in the fogged window, I loosened my parka hood and pulled it down, looking through the window with disheveled blonde hair. My eyes widened.

All I had to say is goodbye,

We're better off this way,

We're better off this way.

The table in the room was covered with sheets of paper covered in calculations and writing; Kyle sat on one side of the table and his little brother, Ike, sat on the other side. The fifth grader smiled up at his brother adoringly, showing him a sheet with, what I supposed was, some homework. Kyle looked it over, nodding and smiling, his lips moving. I'm pretty sure they said, "Good job, Ike."

I sighed sadly but smiled; guess I'd have to go see if Stan was busy. With my hands tucked into my pockets, I walked away from the window and house, the wind picking up harshly. I chuckled softly, Kyle was such a fucking liar.

He always complained that Ike was annoying, that the ten year old was always bothering him for something or about something; yet, the smile on his face just told a different story. And we all knew Ike could do fifth grade math without any help; hell, he could finish a seventh grade math test with 100% without a calculator if he had to! But, instead, he just went out of his way to spend some time with his older brother. Even I had to admit, it was kinda cute.

But, I was still left without shelter and the wind was starting to bite at my cheeks with it cold; with a cloudy breath, I started back down the sidewalk in the direction of Stan's house, stomach growling. Haven't eaten since yesterday…

I'm alive but I'm losing all my drive,

Sometimes I wonder if Kevin ever felt about me like that; if I was that younger brother he outwardly didn't like, complained about, even hated at times but, secretly, would wish for me to ask to play or ask for help on something like homework… But, I know that that didn't really go through his mind. He was just as reclusive as I was. Instead, I thought about where I was going.

Stan's mom always made really good food; and, unlike Kyle's mom, she didn't have any kind of sugar restrictions. In her mind, we were all old enough to decide if we wanted to be fit and healthy or fat and grotesque; and, every time she says that to us, I swear her eyes glance at Cartman for a second in fear. I laughed, my breath coming out in a puff.

I swear, I'm going to fucking freeze to death if I don't hurry my ass to Stan's. I started jogging lightly, if not to hurry up then to keep a little bit warmer in my parka. Approaching the house, I noticed an extra car in the driveway – just barely, it was a grey speck in the thick sheet of falling snow – and groaned in devastation. Would I have to pass his house cause he had company or something?

Cause everything we've been through

And everything about you…

Screw it, if he had company, he can suck it, I thought, racked with shudders. I've sacrificed things, including my life (MULTIPLE TIMES), for him so for me to just hang in his room while drinking some coffee and eating cookies is too much to ask, so help me, shit will go down!

I walked across the front lawn and up to the door, ready to knock before halting once more and looking in through the tiny window, sighing with guilt and shame before turning away. Stan was sitting on the couch with his girlfriend, Wendy, and the two of the seemed to be laughing, but they were definitely smiling. I couldn't ruin this time they had; they barely saw each other anymore.

They only had one class together and the teacher in that class was such a bitch - I know cause I'm in that class, even though I never go - that she figured out they were together and assigned them seats on opposite sides of the room. Yeah, I egged her house a couple times but she honestly sucks… Can't remember what she teaches, either.

But, that said, I really didn't want to waste any of Stan's time he had with Wendy, since there wasn't much; he REALLY needed to get laid. They might actually have a chance as a couple, unlike my own parents…

Seemed to be a lie,

A guiltless, twisted lie.

That made me learn to hate you,

And hate myself for letting it pass by.

Sometimes, I have to wonder how my parents ended up like the way they are; did they love each other before I was born? Do they love each other now, under all the drugs and fighting? It's kinda hard for me to think that they were like Stan and Wendy, cuddly and clingy to each other, in the way that they are now. Makes ya realize how much people can change.

Anyways, with no where else to go, I groaned as I realized Cartman's was my only choice. Fucking hell, I was going to die from the cold or Cartman's stupidity either way so, grumbling, I jogged away from Stan's and down the street.

All I had to say is goodbye,

We're better off this way,

We're better off this way,

The light snow had turned into a fucking blizzard, the snow so thick, I could barely see anything. Instead of going to Cartman's, I kinda wished some dumbass was driving in this weather so I could just get hit by them but, no, even the idiots in this hick town were too smart to do that. So, tightening my strings again with numb fingers, I continued.

You've never felt cold until you've been in a South Park snowstorm; after years of living in below twenty, I don't feel cold in that kind of weather cause it's normal. But, during snowstorms, the cold just seems to leak into through the skin slowly, undetected, until you're racked with shivers and your fingers are turning blue. I'm kinda at that stage right now, meaning I'd die of the cold if I didn't hurry and get warm.

I ran when I saw Cartman's, because instead of just being a house, it was my fucking LIFELINE at this point! I ran to the door and knocked quickly, waiting impatiently for someone to answer. Cartman's mom answered the door with a concerned smile.

"Oh, hello Kenny! It's much too cold for someone to be out," she stated. "Come in, come in!" I sighed in relief, hustling inside. My entire body was racked with shivers.

"Oh dear, your face is so blue! You must be freezing!" she exclaimed. "I'll make you some hot cocoa, just wait in the living room." With that, she hustled to the kitchen. Pulling down my hood with shaking hands, I kicked the snow off my boots before making my way into the living room, plopping onto the empty couch. Which made me look around in suspicion; empty couch?

Cartman wasn't around; where the hell was he? On Saturdays, he was either watching TV or hanging with us. I mean, he could be in his room but there's nothing in there to amuse him, so…

Cartman's mom walked back into the room at that moment so I looked toward her and asked, "Hey, where's Cartman?" She sighed sadly.

"Eric caught a cold a few days ago, so he's been sick in bed. I've been making sure he's recovering quickly so there's no need to worry for him," she informed. I nodded just as said fatass yelled in a whiny, yet scratchy voice from upstairs; "MUUUUUMMMMMMM! I'M HUNNNNGRRRRRRYYYYYY!"

"Oh, he's calling; I'll be right back, dear," she said, placing the hot cocoas on the table. I looked at the cup of streaming liquid longingly, reaching forward with now red fingers, wincing from the sting of pain I felt when I picked up the hot cup. I held the cup under my chin, just feeling the heat from the chocolaty drink and inhaling the aroma; then, I looked down at it with a certain loneliness.

My mom… She'd never do this kind of thing for someone freezing cold at the door; she'd yell and tell them to screw off. If she were high or drunk, she'd even yell that at me. If I were sick, my parents would never know until I was dead; I wish I could see what they looked like at my funerals. Were they sad? Did they even care? Sighing, I placed the cooling cup onto the table and pulled my mittens back on, leaving back into the blizzard as Cartman's mom walked back down the stairs.

All I had to say was goodbye,

We're better off this way,

We're better off this way.

I needed to get back home. All of my friends were busy, because they actually had a life when we all weren't hanging out; Kyle had a sibling he had to take care of and who loved him back. Stan had a girlfriend, had someone who needed him as equally as he needed her. And even Cartman, although abusive of being spoiled, had a mother who showered him in anything he wanted; all these things I didn't have and never could.

I tripped, falling face first into a snow bank; I would never get my brother to love me because we never talk and never see each other, I'll never have someone love me as much as Wendy loves Stan because if no one even cares enough to remember me dying, why would they care enough to love me? And my parents will never be like Cartman's mom because of their addiction.

And it's my curse to live with this, forever; because even death will not embrace me. Not even if I wanted it to.

Tears froze as they slipped down my face; I had to get home now.

And every, everything isn't only,

What it seemed so hold these,

Words that you never told me,

It's time to say goodbye.

I picked myself up, wobbling as the wind and snow battered me like the turmoil of emotions in my mind. I wandered, the snow and tears having blinded me as to where I was going now; I didn't know which way was the place I called home, even though it obviously wasn't.

Racked with shudders from the cold, I walked and tumbled blindly. I don't hate my parents for what they are, for what they do; I hate them for what they don't do. And I can't say I actually hate them; hate needs reason, needs dedication. Hate was a really ugly word that's just as overused as the word love is; my feelings to my parents were balanced right on the edge of a thin line between the two words.

My friends, who never remembered me dying but are always there for me honestly don't understand how lucky they are to be loved, to not have my curse; when they die, they'll go somewhere forever and never have to worry about coming back to regrets, to being unloved and alone…

Alone…

It's time to say goodbye,

It's time to say goodbye.

Realization hit me with that single word as I tripped again, falling off an edge. I gasped in pain as my elbow hit the surface to break my fall; the long, splitting crack of ice that followed made my blue eyes widen dramatically. Before I could react, the ground I fell on crumbled away and I slipped into freezing cold water; the icy liquid cocooned me, penetrating my clothing with an unforgiving cold.

I couldn't move, shock taken over my body as my shaking ceased for mere seconds, the weight of my clothing pulling me below the surface to stare up at the bubbles that escaped from my mouth. The cold consumed me mercilessly, taking away whatever remained of my drive for life.

Take my pain away,

Tear it out,

Tell me I was wrong,

Tell me I was wrong.

As I felt death's kiss draw near, I smiled; nobody would ever care that this happened. No one was ever going to look for me because they would never know I was dead; I would never be missed because I was never missing. Alone…

People can complain about being alone in the world but they're never truly alone; they'll always have someone that'll miss them when they die, that'll care about them if they aren't around. People who will believe them when they tell the truth and even when they lie. Me? I have no one.

Nobody needs me to live; my parents would be better off with me dead because they would have more money for themselves. Stan, Kyle, even Cartman, all have someone in their life that really cares about them, that would miss them, and that they would miss back. Hell, even my brother would be given more attention and might even have a decent life without me around.

Take my pain away,

Tear it out,

Tell me I was wrong,

Tell me I was wrong.

I was truly alone. My permanent death would even make some people have a better life; but, no, I couldn't even give them that. I can't even take my life to make anouther's better; did that make me selfish? I don't know. Was it selfish of me to wish that I could die forever? Honestly, I thought it was; if anyone were to grieve my death, I would be the one to blame.

I sunk deeper into the depths of Stark's Pond, feeling my life drain away as the darkness crept into the corner of my eyes. Sometimes, I wish someone could tell me I was wrong; that my life did mean something to someone. That they would remember if I died and cared about the amount of pain I felt with each and every death I had to go through; each and every life I ended to save the mortal life of anouther.

I tried to move my arm but it didn't even feel a part of me anymore; the only part of my body, of my existent, was my mind. The darkness almost consuming me much like the cold.

Take my pain away,

Tear it out,

Tell me I was wrong,

Tell me I was wrong.

There was no more pain, no more cold; just floating suspended in the iciest blue. I smiled again; soon, I would wake up in my bed and this pain, suffering and relentless cold, would be nothing but a memory. My doubt and ever ignored wishes would be forgotten until the next death; the next of my many lives wouldn't be my last just as this one won't be the last, as much as I wished it to be.

Nobody wants to die as much as Kenny McCormick does… because no one has ever felt the loneliness he's felt.

Take my pain away,

Tear it out,

Tell me I was wrong,

Tell me I was wrong.

And, even when he was consumed by darkness, his wish was never granted.

His one and only selfish wish.

~!~!~!~!~

Dedicated to my bro, Lucian. 3

Written to the lyrics of the song Goodbye by Secondhand Serenade.

Lucian, I miss you. You will never be forgotten.

I didn't spellcheck it much. Would've made me cry.