Time goes by (Kyman-South Park.)

Stars.

"Are you okay?" I ask, after Cartman has been completely silent for three days straight. By now, I know it's his defence against emotions.

The answer? Complete and utter silence.

"What is it with this? Just tell me. I want to help," I say.

He hangs up. I groan and take my pillow, screaming into it. First the Bebe thing, now this? What next? Stan?

"Kyle?" Mom asks.

I sigh, putting my head in my hands.

"Everything is complete shit," i say.

She sits next to me.

"Go on," she says.

"First of all, my friend is pregnant. Second of all, I'm fucking gay. Third of all, Car-a friend of mine isn't talking to me and he's in a shit situation and I want to help him but I can't if he won't tell me what the hell is actually happening," I say.

She sigh.

"You teens get harder lives every year. I remember when everyone around you was worrying about their superhero costumes and now the same people are in adult bullshit," mom says.

I nod.

"Look, I don't know about anything you're talking about but if something bothers you, you need to talk about it with those people," mom says.

"Thanks mom. By the way, I really am gay," I say.

I run out of the room. Okay, Cartman's house.

"Be careful outside!" Mom yells.

"Thanks mom!" I say back, leaving out the door.

The ground makes loud noises under my feet as I run, the houses change all around me.

Why do I even care? Do i still do this shit from the kindness of me heart? Is that really something I continue to do? Why?

"Hey Kyle," his mother says after I have knocked enough.

"I'm here to see Cartman. May I?" I ask.

"Of course," she says, smiling.

I get in, putting my shoes next to each other and going up.

"Hey," I say.

I open Cartman's door. He's sat there, staring at a spot.

"What are you doing here, Jew?" Cartman asks.

His voice is actually venomous. It hurts a little, I thought we were getting better. But at the same time, he is talking. Even though it's not very nice.

"Why are you so rude?" I ask.

He sighs.

"Even if mom wants to be unaware of it, her death is getting closer," Cartman says.

He has his head in his hands.

"What did they say?" I ask.

"She's last hope failed. Now it's a miracle if she survives. Even if she can walk, she's worse than ever," Cartman says.

"That's not it. Is it?" I ask.

"Health care," Cartman says, shortly.

"What?" I ask.

"I'm going to sound selfish but health care is incredibly expensive and even if they can't help her, it's still happening. I know she'll die but I'm fucking pissed at this-," Cartman says.

He throws me a letter, in short, it reads that he has to pay even if his mom actually dies.

"What the actual fuck?" I ask.

"We thought about going to Canada," Cartman says.

He sighs.

"When it is gonna happen? About?" I ask.

"June," Cartman says.

I take a step towards him and sit down.

"It's going to be okay," i say, smiling.

Both of us just stare down in silence.

"Why didn't you even ask about it?" I ask.

He sighs.

"Ask about what? It's pretty clear. I'm going to be paying myself sick until death," Cartman says.

"I'm sure you can get help-," I start.

"Where exactly? My dad isn't here, I don't know anyone from my family and all that. I don't know anyone I could actually ask for help from," Cartman says.

I nod along.

"I guess. But you know, there is some help somewhere," I say.

"What the hell is that then?" Cartman asks.

"Someone must've made something. Government or some shit?" I ask.

"I don't know about your government, Jew. But mine has never helped anyone," Cartman says, sighing.

"You were pro government since forever," I say.

"Well. Like everyone, I like something until it fucks me over," Cartman says.

"Too real," I say.

He laughs.

"Shit," he says.

He gets up and goes down the stairs. When I notice he forgot the door, I try to make the choice between being a nosy bitch or respecting privacy.

"Is everything okay?" Cartman asks.

I put my headphones on and listen to anything, just in case me closing the door would be bad. I guess I have some respect for privacy, even while being a nosy little bitch. Good to know that.

He comes back, closing the door. I take my headphones off immediately. He sits down on his desk.

"Sirius is looking awesome today," I say, trying to break the silence.

"I guess, I'd say the dog is looking awesome as a whole," Cartman says.

I nod and keep looking out the window behind him. There is a long silence... which isn't particularly awkward at all, to my surprise. It's actually fairly nice.

"Aren't you going to have to get home?" He asks.

I shrug.

"I guess," I say.

"You don't have to," he says.

I laugh.

"I can actually leave," I say.

"It doesn't really matter," he says.

We both look around at the star, continuously. I haven't had a moment like that with friends in a long time. Did I just think he is a friend?

"Are we friends?" I ask.

He looks rather surprised.

"I don't know. I honestly don't like you... but I do. You're a nice person but a lot of things don't work out," Cartman says, shrugging.

"I like to think that's actually a friend in a small nutshell," I say.

"I guess," Cartman says.

"Alright then," I say.

There is a while of silence.

"I like having an actual friend," he says.

I laugh.

"You can count of me, Friend," I say.

He nods.

"I've got to take my meds or depression strikes. You okay waiting?" He asks.

I nod.