POV~ Stan

It was all kind of a blur... One minute we were depositing cash to his bank account. The next, his life was over.

FLASHBACK

"NOBODY MOVE! IF YA DO, YER HEAD GETS BLOWN OFF!"

"Sir, I think we can reason this out without resorting to violence-"

BANG!

"Kyle!"

"Do ya wanna get shot, too?"

"No, please!"

"Then shut yer god damn mouth!"

"Kyle..."

POV~ Kyle

Damn. I guess thats what I get for trying to be a good person. I get killed by a bank robber. I expected getting shot in the forehead would hurt like hell, but nah. It was only painful for the millisecond before the bullet instantly killed me. Not a bad way to go- practically painless. The only concern I had was: what do I do now?

I was definitely dead; no denying it. At least I wasn't in denial like Michael Jackson had been. Don't worry, Ike. I'm not gonna possess you. So, being stuck in purgatory was crossed off my mental list of options. The next thing I had in mind was Heaven or Hell. I was a good kid, right? Let's hope God wasn't too judgmental of Jews.

Realizing I had clenched my eyes shut when the man fired the gun, I forced them to blink open. You know how in movies your supposed to see like a bright light, or watch your soul leave your body? This was nothing like either of those. It was other-worldly. I was surrounded with complete darkness, and it was almost like still having my eyes shut. My body felt weightless, like I was floating. Actually, come to think of it, it didn't feel like anything- just nothingness... Suddenly, a bright light shined above my head. It was too bright for my taste, really. It more hurt my eyes than anything else. It kind of burned actually. God, it stung! Was this supposed to be Heaven? It felt like Hell. Oh no, I was going to Hell!

A searing pain burned on my head, making my skin crawl. I tried to itch at it, to make it stop, but I had no hands to make the pain go away. I was dead! Why was I feeling this unbearable pain? I knew my life was over- I just wanted to go to Heaven! I wanted to be at peace! Why the fuck couldn't I get that much? Out of nowhere, the weightlessness disappeared. I was falling... falling to my doom. I was falling into Hell, I just knew it. My body started to regain feeling, starting at my toes. An uncomfortable warmth traveled up my legs and throughout the rest of me. The pain in my skull was too much to handle. It felt like I was on fire. Yep, definitely Hell. Each breath I took got harder, rougher almost. It felt like I was panting, struggling to inhale and exhale. This was worse then Hell. This was like worse than New Jersey.

Then, without warning, I hit the bottom of the abyss I had been falling to. Only, the bottom I'd hit wasn't hard, and didn't hurt. It wasn't rocky, or sharp, or uncomfortable. It was pretty soft, actually. I heard my own self gasp for air, and the quiet whispers of people around me. What the hell? I'd better not wake up in Munchkin Land. To my great surprise, my eyes fluttered open to a much-too-bright fluorescent light shining in my eyes. The pain was still throbbing in my forehead, but a lot more muted then before. I noticed that there was something pinching at my nose, and a sharp pain in my left wrist. My hazy sight drifted across the faces of my loved ones. Everybody was standing there: Stan, mom, dad, Ike, Kenny, Butters, heck- even Cartman was there holding a teddy bear.

This didn't make sense. Why was half of South Park in the afterlife with me? Unless... I wasn't dead? No, that couldn't be. I'd died. I had been shot in the head. No way I could have survived that. "Kyle!" Stan exclaimed, running over to my side and embracing me in a hug. "It... you... miracle," he managed through the tears. Just then, a man I didn't recognize in a white lab coat knelt down beside me.

"Kyle, I am doctor Summers. Do you know these people?" inquired said man. Of course I did! Why wouldn't I? I nodded weakly and he continued. "Good! You... were in an accident. A man shot you in the forehead during a bank robbery," that still didn't make any sense.

"Then why am I here?" I whispered in a small voice. My throat was scratchy and it hurt to talk.

"It is a mystery to us. You must be a miracle child. In fact, you were announced legally dead for five and a half minutes! You probably wouldn't have made it if the ambulance didn't get there on time! According to our tests, the bullet hit your skull at such an angle that it only cracked your bone. You are very lucky to be alive," Doctor Summers told me proudly. I was alive? I had survived a bullet to the head? Did this mean there was a gaping hole in the front of my face? I didn't get the answers to those questions right then. I didn't really care, though. I was sleepy. I was recovering from being shot- I should be allowed some beauty rest, right?

I was happy to be alive, and I was pretty sure everyone else was glad for that, too. If the world was content, and I was happy and living, then I could sleep. Letting all my worries go for the ten minutes I could was great. Only ten minutes of sleep and I had to break up a fight between Kenny and Cartman over the last nutella sandwich. After that, I couldn't fall back asleep. But I was lucky to even be alive: So I was happy.

THE END