Living In South Park

52

As the weeks progressed, Kyle only grew more gay. His style improved drastically, he even took me shopping once or twice.

Once at lunch, Kyle made a daring move and kissed Stan during a brohug. Stan was frozen as Kyle kissed him, and my hand flew over my mouth in shock.

"Oh, God... Kyle..." I sighed and hid my face since I get bad cases of embarrassment for other people. I looked up just in time to see Stan push him away. "What the hell, dude?! I mean, what the ACTUAL FUCK?!" He yelled in Kyle's face, Kyle falling back, fear obvious in his eyes.

"I- I thought..." "Dude, it doesn't matter to me if you're gay or not. I really don't care, I'll always be your best friend, but I am not gay. I like girls, okay?" Stan stopped yelling at him, but Kyle flinched as if he were screaming at the top of his lungs.

Tears fell down his face and he ran, stumbling, out of the cafeteria and to the boy's bathrooms.

"Sarah?" Stan asked and I nodded. "I'm on it." I said, getting up and going to the bathrooms. "Anyone in here who isn't Kyle, get out." I said as I entered.

Kyle was crying in the last stall, door not even locked properly. I opened the door and knelt down to get to his eye level.

"Does Stan h-hate me?" He asked. "No, didn't you hear him? He said he doesn't mind that you're gay, he'll always be your best friend, but he likes girls." I said and he shook his head.

"He's probably just saying that to make me feel better. He hates me... I don't even know why I kissed him! I didn't even want to! I know he likes girls!" He sighed and stood up, taking me up with him.

"So do you have any idea why you did kiss Stan? You know he likes girls, so why?" I asked. "I've- I've been doubting myself for a while." He said and I sighed. We moved and sat, leaning on the wall of the bathroom.

"Sarah?" "Hmmm?" "What does depression feel like?" He asked and I fell silent. When I didn't answer, he moved and sat in front of me, taking my hands in his. "You can tell me. You helped me out, and now I can help you out." He said and I smiled.

"Well, everyone feels something different, so really, no one feels the same thing with depression. If you're like me, who has suicidal depression..." I took a deep breath, readying myself.

"I feel headaches all the time. I feel like there's a weight on my chest, and it never goes away. Even when I'm the happiest I could be, the weight is still there, just as a reminder. I think a lot, and when I'm going through a depressed time, I think about how the world would be without me. I think about my funeral, what would I look like, would it be open or closed casket, who would show up to my funeral, who would be saddened by the fact that I'm gone forever, what would people do without me. If I'm not thinking about that, I'm thinking about harming myself, or just killing myself all together. Where would I hurt myself, what would I use, why am I even doing this. If I'm in a suicidal mood, what would I use to kill myself, how painful do I want it to be, how quick do I want to be gone, do I write a note, do I leave a message, should I have a special song on replay, should I write a quote on myself for people to find, and where am I going to die." I said, and by this time, we were both crying.

"What stops you?" "Mostly it's the fact that I can't die. No matter how hard I try, I just can't die. I always wake up again, perfect and normal as I always am. If it's not that, then it's who would be most affected by my death. Dale, Kenny, and you three idiots are the immediate ones." I said and stared down at my lap.

This is the first time I've ever come completely clean with someone. Ever.

"Sarah, don't kill yourself." He said and I sniffed and shrugged. "Life just gets so tiring after a while. I'm tired of trying so hard to look happy when I just want to die and just be done with everything. But everyone just says suicide is the easy way out, I have so much to live for, blah blah blah. You know, that's such a stupid line. 'You have so much to live for'. If I was so tired with living, you'd think I would know better. But no, I don't kill myself because I can't fucking die." I sighed.

"Have you?" "Huh?" "Have you ever hurt yourself or tried to kill yourself?" He asked and I nodded. I pushed the sleeves of my jacket up and the bracelets I always wore. I held them up for him to see the vertical and horizontal faded scars across my wrists. "I used to cut everyday. I used to try to die every week. I've tried pills, hangings, stabbing, even shooting myself and nothing works. I guess that's where the headaches come from. You know, I've shot myself in the head six times." I said and his eyes widened.

"How are you not dead?" "I can't die. Im immortal." I shrugged. "But what do I do? I can't die, Ike needs me." He sighed.

"I know it's hypocritical of me, but Kyle, if I can't kill myself, you can't either. Don't you dare commit suicide or I will bring you back and I will murder you all over again." I said and he cracked a smile. "Yeah, I know." He shrugged. "You know, screw this. I don't even think I'm gay at all. The dude in that video was just hot and he had a huge dick. What are you again?" "Bisexual." "Yeah, I can be that, can't I?" "Why not?" I shrugged and he smiled and pulled me up.

He wiped his face and mine, not caring about the mascara and eyeliner streaks on his coat sleeve now. Oops.

"You okay?" "Yeah, I guess. You?" "I'm good." He nodded and we walked back out, Kenny crushing me in a hug. I know he heard everything I said.

"I'm here for you." Was all he said.