Kenny's POV
After that night, I spent every minute I could searching online for a new place to live. I wasn't having much luck though. Every place I found was either way out of budget or way too small. There wasn't much living space available in this small ass town, unfortunately. Most of it's existence was to serve tourists.
"Find anything yet?" Tweek asked walking up to me. I was on my break scrolling through my phone and mumbling to myself about how ridiculously hard this was. I shook my head while frowning at the screen in front of me.
"Nope," I turned the screen off and tossed my phone onto the table I was sitting at. "Nothing". I dragged my hands down my face with a groan. This was hopeless.
"H-here" Tweek said sliding over a coffee and muffin. "Make sure to eat something".
"Thanks man" I mumbled. I took the blueberry muffin and took a bite just as the little bell above the front door chimed. I looked over and saw Bebe rushing over to us holding a Newspaper with a very excited look on her face.
"Guys, check it out!" She slapped the papers down onto the table.
I leaned over and scanned the page she was so happy over. I saw a big flashy yellow printed add smack down in the middle. "New anti-fungul cream for your butt cra-"
"No!" Bebe inturupted. She pointed to the bottom corner of the page. "There". I looked again to see an add for a cabin someone was trying to sell. Now this perked my interest. "It's perfect!" She squeeled. "It's away from town, aka away from Butters ass hole parents, but it's still close enough to where you can go to work and stuff. It has two bedrooms, and the owner is keeping the price cheap if the buyer fixes it up a little for him since the place is kinda old".
"Oh my god that's perfect!" I smiled. "I'm awesome at fixing stuff. And a cabin sounds amazing! Thanks Bebe!" I jumped up and hugged her. She chuckled and happily hugged back.
After pulling away I looked at the paper again and dialed the owners number up on my phone. Things finally might be turning around.
Butters POV
I was told to mow the lawn today after lunch. The weeds were getting out of control and the grass was about as tall as my ankles. My Dad threw a fit about it after seeing our yard through the window. And apparently, It was my fault it got that bad. He said that I should have been paying more attention and took responsibility. I gritted my teeth as he was yelling at me. It wasn't my fault I didn't notice a bit of grass growing. Especially when I have a million other things on my plate to worry about. He just loved finding an excuse to chew me out. I didn't argue though. I just replied with a "Yes, sir" like the robot that I was and immediately headed for the back door.
As soon as I emerged into the unforgiving heat, I regretted putting on such a heavy sweater this morning. But I was stuck in it. I couldn't risk taking It off and having my Dad see all the scars on my arms. Or anyone for that matter. I couldn't even roll the sleeves up. This was going to suck.
I already had a trail of sweat trickling down my back as I pulled the lawnmower out of the shed. I peeked over my shoulder to see if there were any eyes on me. Sure enough, my Dad was glaring at me from the kitchen window. I quickly averted my gaze and let out a sigh before starting up the lawnmower. I started by the fence and slowly pushed it across the yard. I felt my face getting warmer and the handlebar was starting to become slippery under my hands. The forecast said It was going to be 70 degrees today. It felt like 90 for me though. I might as well have been roasting in an oven.
A loud rattling noise made me jump out of my skin. The mower stopped. I must have run over a rock. I groaned and pulled the mower back. I grabbed the rock and chucked it over to the already cut grass. I heard the kitchen door slide open behind me, followed by my Fathers voice.
"Butters, If you break my mower I'll break your legs!" He hissed at me.
I couldn't tell if he was serious or not. And that had to be the most fucked up thing I realized. My own father had inplanted so much fear and uncertainty into me that I couldn't tell if, or when, he'd hurt me to the point of fracturing my bones. I didn't look at him or even in his direction. I didn't want him to see how pale he made my face just now or how shaky my hands had become. I just nodded and started up the mower again. I could see him standing there from the corner of my eye for nearly a full minute until he finally shut the door and walked away. I still didn't want to risk rolling my sleeves up, Incase he came back.
The seconds going by felt like they had been stretched into minutes. The beating heat around me was enough to make my mouth dry and my hair drenched. Beads of sweat rolled down the sides of my face and my nose. I was about halfway done. But I had to head inside to cool off for a few minutes.
I shut the mower off and headed for the back door. I gripped the handle and pulled. But it was locked. "Fuck" I whispered to myself. Maybe I'd have better luck with the front door. I walked around the house that provided no shade on either side thanks to the sun's position. I got to the front steps and try the knob. But this one was locked too. Just then the door opened, and there stood my Father.
He glanced around the untrimmed grass and glared at me. "You're not finished".
I swallowed the very little saliva I had sitting in my mouth. "I-I just need a break, sir" I said looking into the kitchen behind him. A glass of water and AC sounded like heaven right now.
"No. You can come inside when you're done" he said in a stern voice.
"Please, sir?" I pleaded. "It's really hot out here".
"Don't talk back to me!" He shouted. I flinched and backed off the steps. "It's not that bad out. If you were really that warm then you'd take your fucking sweater off". I clung to my sleeve and played with a loose thread. "You're just trying to get away from your chores" he mumbled. I lightly shook my head. "Shut up, you've always been lazy! Get back to work!" And with that, he slammed the door in my face.
I huffed and stormed back to the stupid lawn mower sitting in the back yard. I started it up again and, with a bit of effort, pushed it across the lawn as fast as I could. The sooner I got this done, the sooner I could go back inside, in my cold room, and strip this sweater off of me. I was thankful that I atleast had my ugly tan colored shorts on.
It felt like forever before I reached the front yard. I mowed the few rows of grass next to the driveway and around the tree. Finally, I was done. Now I just had to put the mower away and I was home free. I turned it off, then started pushing it back to the shed. I was turing it around the corner of the house when I had to stop. The ground beneath me started to spin. My vision became blury, and an overwhelming force pulled me down. I caught myself on my hands and knees.
I heard a voice calling for me. I couldn't process who it was though. Everything sounded so muffled. I lost my strength and collapsed as everything went dark.
-
Kenny's POV
I watched as the clock hit 2:00. My shift was officially over. I grabbed my bottled water and whistled to myself as I punched out. I then grabbed my book bag and went to the bathroom to change into my regular clothes, a black tank top and ripped jeans, Then headed out.
I roamed around town a bit. It was pretty nice out. As I thought about what I could do with the rest of my day, I had come across the Stotches house, and was pleasantly surprised to see Butters! He was walking down the side of his house pushing a mower. I went to call out to him when he fell to his hands and knees. I gasped and started running up to him.
"Butters!" I shouted. He didn't respond. I was just a few feet away from him when he collapsed. I dropped to my knees beside him and turned him onto his back. "Butters, hey, wake up buddy" I said shaking his shoulder. My heart pounded in my chest. As I looked him over I noticed how flushed and sweaty he was. I put a hand up to his cheeck and sure enough he was warm enough to cook me alive. I also noticed the bruising skin under his eye and over the bridge of his nose. What the hell happened to him?! I pulled him up into a sitting position and was about to take his sweater off when his eyes fluttered open. "Oh thank God" I sighed. "Butters, can you hear me?"
He looked at me a bit dazed but nodded his head 'yes'. "Okay, we need to get this off of you" I said pulling his sweater up.
"No!" He pushed my hands away. I met eyes with him. He looked back at me terrified. "I-I mean, I'm fine Ken" he went to stand back up but I stopped him.
"No, you're not" I told him. "I just watched you pass out. We need to cool you off". I pulled at his sleeve. He tried to stop me but was obviously to weak to do so. As I started to slide the sleeve off I stopped when I saw blood pooling. He saw it too and seemingly found new strength when he yanked his arm away. "Leo, what happened?" I asked. I went to grab his arm again but he scooched away.
"Nothing!" He said almost crying. "A-A cat scratched me".
I frowned. "Butters, you don't have a cat" I said a little more stern than I intended. He flinched at my rise in tone and backed up even more. My heart sank.
"I-I'm sorry" he said meekly. "Please don't hurt me".
"Leo" I spoke softly. "I'd never hurt you," I slowly reached over and brushed a strand of hair behind his ear. He seemed to relax from the gentle touch. But then his eyes squeezed shut and he started to fall back over. I caught him and sat him back up. "That's it. This is coming off" I said. Before he could protest I pulled the sweater off him. I froze upon seeing his arms covered in scars, some newer than others. He quickly hugged himself to hide them. I wanted to ask him why. I wanted to know how long this had been happening. I wanted to know where he got the bruises from. But that would have to wait. Right now he needed help, and fast. I scooped him up in my arms and stood.
"Ken?" He spoke looking up at me. His voice sounded almost faint.
"It's alright" I said carrying him to the front door. "I got you". I tried the door only to find it locked. Fucking locked. I growled and kicked the door until someone answered it. It swung open to reveal a very pissed off Mr.Stephen.
"What?" He spat. He saw Butters almost unconscious in my arms and glared at him. "What the fuck is wrong with him? What did you do?" He asked accusingly.
"He passed out from the heat" I said trying to keep my cool. I couldn't help but stare daggers into him. "He needs to be inside".
"He's faking" Stephen hissed. "Trust me. He's nothing but a toxic drama queen. He's just trying to get out of chores. Butters, get up this instance!"
I felt Butters squirm in my grip. I held him tighter. "He's not faking" I said through gritted teeth. I didn't give a fuck about being respectful anymore. "It's fucking hot out here. Move" I pushed past him and entered the chilled house. I felt Butters relax in my arms once the cool air hit him. I layed him down on the couch and remembered the bottled water I had brought with me. I pulled it out of the big pocket on my jeans and handed it to him. He looked up at me with thankful eyes and took the water. He closed his eyes and took a long sip. I relaxed a little knowing he was getting what he needed now.
I heard Stephen storm up to us. "Did you even finish mowing the lawn?!" He shouted at Butters. Without looking up at him, Butters nodded. "Speak up!" Stephen demanded.
"Stop it!" I snapped. "He passed out and all that's all you're concerned about?!"
Stephen looked at me baffled. It was obvious he wasn't used to people speaking up against him. "How dare you!" He shouted. "Get out of my house before I call the cops!"
I stood up and kept eye contact with him. If looks could kill, he'd be in flames right now. "Do it!" I dared him. "I bet they'd love to hear how you locked him outside in this heat. And what about those bruises huh?!" I stepped closer to him "Those from you?!"
"You don't know what you're talking about!" He yelled back. "What goes on in my house is MY business! Get out!"
"Not until I know he's okay!" I said. "He needs to rest before he ends up in the Hospital".
"Ken" Butters spoke up in a soft voice. I turned my attention over to him as he sat up. "It's fine. You should go".
"No, Butters I-"
"Please Ken" he said looking down. "Just go".
I stood there, unsure of what to do. Finally, I walked over and pulled him in for a hug. "I'll be back tonight" I whispered to him. He nodded. After pulling away, I gave his Father one last glare before heading for the door.
"Butters, go to your room" Stephen said in a low voice. "Don't come out for the rest of the day".
My hands clentched into fists at my sides. This was fucking ridiculous. Send him to his room for what?! Getting heat exaughstion?! I bet he was just sending him up there because he knew Butters needed rest and just didn't want to admit he was wrong. Fucking bastard. I left the house, slamming the door behind me. Now more than ever, I was determined to get him out of there as soon as possible.