No Hope

Homophobia

(A\N: This chapter will include mild violence\gore, reference of drug use and character death. Also, this first part was very awkward to write considering I was on a bus ride home from Toronto when I did so.)

"Take off your clothes."

Kyle's eyes widened at my choice of words.

"Wh-" More blood was coughed up. "What?!" He choked out.

"I need to clean your cuts and bandage them up," I pulled out a first aid kit and set it down beside me. "So you need to take off your clothes."

A small blush spread across his face. "I-I can't..."

"Do you want me to?"

I just realized how that sounded.

"Er- I mean- uh..."

A red faced Kyle nodded slowly.

I nodded and moved closer to him.

I undid his bright orange jacket (Which he still oddly still wears) along with the gray t-shirt he was wearing underneath.

I scanned his pale chest and arms for any deep cuts. Lucky, the wasn't anything too bad. Well, except for a big gash across his stomach.

I grabbed the small bottle of disinfectant from the first aid kit.

"This may hurt a little," I informed the red-headed boy in front of me before spraying the cut.

A small shriek echoed throughout my small bathroom.

"Don't worry, the pain will go away soon."

He replied with a simple nod as he bit his lower lip.

"Thank you, Stan."

ווווווווווווווווווווווווו

After what seemed like forever, I had finally finished patching up my best friend. Who is currently sleeping in my bed. I was sitting beside him, making sure he was okay and needed anything.

I then glanced at that same picture of Wendy and I from earlier. I couldn't help but wonder, am I ever going to get over Wendy?

The answer has been no thus far, although she has obviously gotten tired of me running back to her every time we break up.

Suddenly, a small and folded piece of paper fell from beneath the picture of me and Wendy.

I stood up and walked over to it. I unfolded it and looked at it. It was a picture of our 4th grade baseball team after Butters got the winning home run.

Butters.

Bitter memories flooded my mind.

I remembered a horrifying day for the town.

Butters' death.

Flashback

"Don't you dare do it!" Shouted a sobbing Kenny.

Kenny, Kyle, Cartman, many others, and I were gathered around a familiar building. The one we faked Butters' suicide at. Accept this time, it wasn't fake.

All eyes were glued upon our beloved friend, Leopold "Butters" Scotch, who was standing at the edge of the structure, gun in hand.

"Do it! Do it! Do it!" Chanted the fatest of them all.

Kenny shot him a death glare, "Shut the fuck up or I'll punch your fat face in!!" He grabbed the fatter boy's collar and held a fist in front of his face.

To be honest, if I was Cartman, I would be scared shitless!

The brunette only smirked, "someone is on their period!"

BANG!

All eyes were laid on the small blonde, who was now dead and hurtling towards the ground.

Kenny immediately let go of Cartman and caught his loved one's lifeless corpse. He froze for a moment before screaming at the top of his lungs. I guarantee whole town could here it.

I've seen a lot of terrible things that would even terrify a grown man. But this, was by far the worst. Seeing one of your best friend's kill themselves; seeing their lover sob as they hold their lifeless, bloody, corpse. That will definitely haunt all of us for as long as we live.

Flashback over

Before I knew it, tears were running down my face. I felt like I was going to puke. Knowing the reason why Butters ended his own life sickened me.

It was the fault of Eric Cartman. He was the cause of the poor boy's death. After years and years of bullying and teasing, he couldn't take it anymore. And y'know why he was bullied?

It was because he was gay.

He was driven to suicide because he got bullied because of his sexuality. And yes, I know, its sadly not a surprise. But it was a surprise that it happened to one of our best friends.

It also sickened me how it affected another one of my close friends.

Kenny McCormick was his name. Butters' past boyfriend. Kenny was affected the most put of all of us. Ever since the death of his loved one, he's been slowly killing himself too. He's been going out to parties to get wasted and do countless drugs thinking it would make him better.

I'm soon on my knees sobbing while holding the picture close to my chest.

Suddenly, I feel a pair of arms wrap around me. I look up to see the one and only, Kyle Broflovski.

"I miss him too," he whispers.

I could only nod in return before continuing to sob. I felt Kyle rub my back soothingly as I cried. He's a great friend.

"Don't worry, the pain will go away soon."