Meet Some Friends Of Mine (South Park X Reader)

I Watched You Die

I don't think I realized just how lonely I was, before them. I don't think I really sat down and thought, just long enough, to realize I really, had no one.
Yeah, I had friends. Yeah, I had my family. But nothing felt— deep enough. Like no connection I really ever made was fully fulfilling.
I was working on it though, with them. I really was trying. I forced myself out of my comfort zone, let people in and let them truly see me. I guess, now that I'm alone— things are different.

That's the problem with me, I'm not alone. Really, I'm far from it. Stan, Kyle, all of team Craig, hell, even Cartman reached out. I don't answer them. Eventually the text stop coming. I do this to myself, because sometimes I feel like I deserve it.

Every time I closed my eyes, I see him. My best friend, bleeding out onto the asphalt. His guts, spilling out and slipping through my fingers while I desperately try to save him.
I don't know how long it's been. I don't know how long I've been sitting here, staring at my ceiling. Wishing for nothing more, then to be somewhere else.
My mother brings me food, I don't eat it. Grossed out— disgusted by the thought.
I just need a second.
I need a god damn minute to breathe.

And— why the fuck can't I breathe?

I sit up in bed, gasping for air. Vision going blurry and filled with holes.

God dammit!

This happens every now and then, when I'm spiraling so far past the shallow end I can't think anymore.

It will pass.

Just like everything does.

____________________

"I know you're upset honey, but you have to go to school."
My mother walks into my room, a dinner plate in her hand placed and platted on fine China.

I don't look up from the side of my bed where I lay. Rotting in it. Barley moving to turn over as I muscle through the headache, and shooting pains up my leg.

She sighs and places my plate down taking the old, fully untouched, lunch with her as the door closes. I listen to her footsteps as they depart down the stairs.

I told her about what happened, she never asked about it again. It's like she just doesn't remember. She thinks I'm 'sad' maybe. Teenage blues like everyone else. I got sick of telling her everyday what had happened, sick of repeating the same damn conversation that ends in screaming tears.

Why doesn't she remember?

Did it even really happen? Am I going crazy?

I think about what I would tell him if he were here right now. I'd tell him, I'm sorry. I'm sorry he had to die for me, I'm sorry no one remembers. I'm sorry I seem to be the only one who morns for you, Kenny.
I'm just sorry.

_____________________

My mother walks in and turns the lights on. It's probably way to early in the morning, as the sun hasn't gone up yet. I couldn't tell you what time it was though, I stopped paying attention a long time ago. I crack my eyes open at her, not really sleeping, but pretending to.

"Honey, you need to go to school. Come on, I'll help you get ready".

"Mom.." I groan in my hands.

"It will make you feel better".

There's no way that could help.

I don't disobey, cracking my body out of bed and slowly limping to the bathroom. I don't bother looking at myself, I couldn't care less what I look like. I don't want to know.
I keep my eyes to the floor as I finish my routine, which mainly consists of splashing cold water to my features, and changing my sweats into different sweats. It's all I seem to be able to manage right now.