A/N

Amy: Sorry for the long wait. My family and I went on vacation, and I just came back this morning. Enjoy reading, and please review!

It had been a few month since Kenny's encounter with Hell, and everything seemed normal again, except for the fact that he kept on dying now and then, and the bloody problem at home.

His mother had gotten very angry other the fact that death was a very common act for her son, and even more outraged that he was revived after a few days. She learned that no matter how hard she tries, she could never kill Kenny for real. However, that didn't stop her from abusing the boy; the pain only increased, often leaving him in a half-dead state where he couldn't see or hear anything with the exception of church bells, more likely in his head than from down the street.

Every night, after beating her child to a bloody plop, the woman would suddenly rush back and sob her heart out, telling Kenny how she didn't mean to do it, how she couldn't help but to do something that cruel and violent.

The blonde didn't understand. He couldn't figure out why his mother would attempt to kill him, make it look like suicide, and then apologize for her rash behaviors. So to avoid confusion, Kenny forgave his mother every single time, though bound to regret it later.

"Kenny? Snap out of it will ya?"

The boy blinked, seeing a pair of brown eyes staring back at him. "What?"

"You've been day dreaming for at least five minutes now, Kenny. You should eat your waffles now before…" Kevin trailed off.

"…Before they get cold? They're already frozen." The blonde murmured, poking the side of the food with his bent fork.

"Just eat it before Mom comes, Ken. She'll start bitching if you don't." The older brother whispered. "You're going to a new school today, so you don't want to go there with scars all over your arms and legs, right?"

Kenny merely nodded and forced himself to chew the ice covered pieces of waffles. The food was tasteless and cold in his mouth, but he swallowed them anyways and started cutting another piece. The blonde coughed a few times and looked for some liquid to wash it down. His somber gaze landed on his plate, the glass of milk by his side, then back at the plate again.

"Drink your god damned milk already! Your brother worked hard for it!" His mother commanded as she stomped down the stairs. It seemed that she has gotten up from the wrong side of the bed, but then again, she was always like that.

"But…I really don't like the taste of it." He objected quietly, looking away from the harsh glare of the woman that scorched his face.

Anger immediately swept on Mrs. McCormick's face, and she stormed to the counter, grabbing a butter knife. "You drink it, or you don't. It's your choice, Kenneth." She snarled, pointing the blade at the blonde.

Kenny looked at the woman with his dull eyes, and said nothing.

"Don't give me that look!" She snapped.

"It's okay Mom. It's no big deal." Kevin said, slowly moving towards the mad woman. "Kenny said before that he wanted to save it for you, since we don't have any more money to buy stuff like that."

The mother's eyes softened as she looked at her other son. "Oh Kevin, it's so sweet of you to say that, but we both know it's not true. Now move over honey, I need to teach that brat a lesson."

"Mom, I don't think it's really necessary to-"

"Move over now Kevin!" The tone was firm and hard, allowing no excuses to break its barrier. Sighing, the older boy walked back to his little brother and stood in front of him.

"Mom, Kenny's just a kid. Why are you doing this to him?"

"Because Kevin dear, he's my kid, therefore, I must teach him manners. Step aside now Kevin, I must finish my business." The sickening sweet tone was back again. "You won't understand why until you are a little older, sweetie."

The front door opened, and in came Mr. McCormick. "What's going on?" He demanded, whipping up a cigarette and lighting it with a lighter that was shaped like a naked woman. "Carol? What's up with that knife?"

"We've worked so hard for the money to buy the milk, but that little parasite would not drink it!" The redhead pointed an accusing finger at her youngest son. "Stewart, he really needs to learn to appreciate our hard-earned food!"

Steward took a long drag and fixed his eyes on the blonde. "What do you have to say about this, Kenneth?"

"If she thinks the situation is like that, then she can think whatever she wants." Was the soft reply.

"You little bastard, you are not the one who have to work overnight to make the money to support the family, so you need to learn how to respect people, especially me!" The mother charged forward, but was held down by the older brother.

"From my point of view, all you did overnight was surfing on the internet and watching TV shows. How can that make any money?" The blonde questioned.

Kevin hissed, shooting a look at his brother, a warning to keep his mouth shut.

"Alright Carol, I think that's enough. Kenny, get your back pack and go to school." The dad instructed, blowing out some smoke from his mouth. "Kevin, you too."

Kenny turned to leave, but Mrs. McCormick hurled the glass of milk at his head, where it cracked and splashed all over his clothe. "Look what you have done, Mrs. McCormick." He said calmly. "Now no one can drink it." He slapped on another shirt and pants in his room and left the house, his mother's screams and harsh words going through one ear and out the other.

"Hey dude, you want to try some of this shit?" One of the seniors from the high school rasped, holding out a box of cigars at Kenny when he passed by. The blonde only looked his way and continued walking. He knew better than trying to talk to a bunch of lunatics and drop outs, even though he has a messed up life and sometimes considered being one.

"Hey blondie, you new here? You're cute, wanna go out with me?" A girl this time, long frizzy blonde hair, a total slut, by the way she dressed. Kenny didn't even spare her a glance as he did to the drop outs. The girl scowled then went back to her friends.

"Hey, are you new?"

"Wow! It had been years since our school had a transfer student, can I show you around the school?"

"Welcome to South Park High! I can be your new friend if you want!"

"Hey, you look cool. Can I do your laundry sometimes?"

"Oo! You can be my new best friend!"

It took a good five minutes to make his way down the hall due to all the interruptions and the attention since he was the new student.

He hated it. He despised how everyone acted so friendly when the world was so miserable, at least in his eyes.

The blonde fished out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and looked at the first thing on his schedule: Math with Mr. Garrison, Room 402. The 'Mr.' part was crossed out and smeared in black ink, with the word 'Mrs.' scribbled on the top instead. He stuffed it back in his pocket, and then scanned through the school map drawn by the principle, trying to figure out which building was which.

Apparently, the principle was not exactly on the artistic side. After three minutes of studying the drawing, Kenny could only label the building on the right side 'dog crap', and the one in the center 'half bitten chicken nugget with a smiley face right in the middle'. The rest…he didn't even know what it was.

"Um, hello." A voice said besides him.

He turned his face away from the badly drawn map, seeing another blonde boy with a thick textbook in his hand. He twitched. The stranger's hair was very…interesting. There was only a clump of hair right in the middle, and the rest was bald. "…Hi?"

"Uh, my name is Butters, I heard you're the new student, so uh, I wanted to see if I can help ya out." Butters twiddled his fingers.

"Do you know where room 402 is?"

"Oh, ya have that class first? I, uh, I have that class too. You can go with me if you want." The three quarters bald kid said, heading towards the direction of their first class. "So, uh, what's your name?"

"Kenny McCormick?" He replied.

"Ah, okay. My name is Butters."

"You already told me that."

"Oh, uh, sorry. What's the name of your parents?" The shorter boy asked.

Kenny narrowed his eyes, not wanting this conversation to go on any longer. "Parent one and parent two." He answered flatly. "Why are you asking?"

"Uh, no reason." Butters said. "I just wanted to know. There's Mrs. Garrison's room, come on, I don't want to be late."

Mrs. Garrison was a ho. That was the first thing that came in Kenny's mind when he entered the room that was filled by retards, most of them, anyways.

"Settle down class." The teacher said, motioning the boy to walk to his desk. "This is Kennedy, he is goi-"

"It's Kenny." The blonde interrupted.

"The paper says 'Kennedy'." Mrs. Garrison pointed on the list of students.

"I know my name."

"Well, I don't!" The woman wrinkled her nose. "Excuse me, class. Kenny here is the new transfer student. Everybody, say hello to Kenny."

The class was silently, either staring at the new student or plotting to sell Mrs. Garrison to the black market.

"Okay, Kenny, you can sit by…Eric." The teacher pointed at a random seat, but withdrew her hand too fast for the boy to see which person she was pointing at.

"Who?"

"The fat kid over here." Replied a redhead in a green hat who was pointing at a brunette next to him.

"Ay! Don't call me fat you fucking Jew! I'm not fat, I'm bluff, Kyle!" Cartman yelled.

Kenny walked down the aisle of desks, sat down on his assigned seat, then leaned on his back of the chair, one arm propping up his chin.

"Hey new kid, wanna go to my party on Saturday?" The fat kid offered.

The blonde ignored him and kept on staring ahead.

"Well too bad! You don't get an invitation!" Cartman snickered. "Ha ha ha ha ha ha, he he he he he he! You so fell for that one!"

"Dude Cartman, leave him alone." Kyle said, tapping his pen on the desk, bored.

"Ha! It's all because you're a god damned Jew Kyle! Jew's can't poke fun at people!"

The red haired boy rolled his eyes, tired of hearing the same old joke over and over again. "Don't mind fat-ass over here, Kenny, he's a fucking retard." He muttered to the blonde, glaring at the brunette.

"Yeah, I can see."

"So, is there anything interesting about yourself? We don't really do anything in math. All those nerds are way over at the front, and Mrs. Garrison only pays attention to them."

Kenny gave the question some thought. "I die every now and then and get revived in a few days, if that counts as something."

"Dude, you serious?" Kyle exclaimed. "You sure that you're not on crack or cough medicine?"
"I'm sure." The other replied. "Don't know how it happens, it just does."

"Wow, that's awesome. It'd be so cool if you never die, I wish I could be like that.

"Haha, sure." No you don't. You would hate it if you could never die. Don't you get it? People like me end up craving death. Not dying is very painful. Once your heart stops beating, you feel no more physical pain, but as for me…

"Hey Kenny, are you listening?"

Kenny looked up. "Huh? Oh, yeah, keep going."

"It turns out that we have to do a project in Math all week. Want to be my partner?" Kyle asked with a smile.

"Psh, the only reason why he's asking you is because his precious Stan-faggot returned to his fucking Goth group again." Cartman crossed his arms. "Isn't that right, Jew?"
The redhead's face immediately darkened. "Yeah right! Keep your words to yourself Cartman. Stan can do whatever he wants; I don't give a damn anymore. So shut your mouth before I do it for you."

"If you don't care, why are you being so defensive?" The fat boy pressed on.

"Cartman…" Kyle said warningly, his green eyes flashing in anger.

"Who's Stan?" Kenny asked.

The other two quieted down and turned to look at him; both didn't seem to find the right words to describe the person.

"He…used to be our friend. Us three grew up together." Cartman replied.

"Stan was my best friend before; something happened a few weeks ago, then suddenly he left us for the Goth kids, again." Kyle added. "So, let's go find a table where we can work on our projects." He said, eager to change the subject.

"Alright." Kenny replied. Who really is Stan?

A/N

Amy: Hey guys, thanks for reading. Please push that lovely purple button down there and spend one minute of your life making a fellow writer happy. I'll update faster if you review!