The Memorial

I had a really bad day at work today…and in the midst of it all, there sat this beautiful ray of ficplottage that I have been looking for. Weeks have gone by whilst I longed to know why I couldn’t create a South Park (which I don’t own or make money from) fic…and now…it has all come to me.. In the flash of time and space…it has come.

Thank you ladygizarme, for your awesome Beta'ing Prowess.

The Memorial

Song: In the Ghetto by Elvis Presley

“As I stand here, before you all, I really can’t believe he is dead. I have known Kenny since we were toddlers, and many times we thought he was gone, and he just came back. This time, we just weren’t that lucky I guess. Kenny’s family wasn’t as fortunate as some of us are, and there were times when things were tough, but Kenny always seemed to come through it.”

I backed up away from the microphone. My throat had begun to close, and I looked to my best friend for a little help. He was watching me, his eyes mirroring my own, I am sure. Just seeing that he was watching me elped a great deal. I gained my composure and addressed the crowd again…

And the snow flies…

On a cold and grey [South Park] morning’

Another little baby child is born

In the ghetto…

“Kenny always had a way of explaining things to us. Someone would say some phrase or something that we didn’t really understand and we would just look at him, and he could explain it. I guess we didn’t really get how he knew all that stuff, but I guess now we know it is called ‘street smarts’ I suppose we didn’t really care, as long as he shared his knowledge, and he always did.

Sometimes, when Cartman was being a bit more hateful than usual, Kenny would smile at me, and say ‘Kyle, he’s a dick. He is gonna be alone someday, and you, me, and Stan will be together somewhere else.’ Somehow that always made me feel a bit better. Kenny’s mom says he had a way with words. A way to make everyone else feel better about themselves.”

And his mama cries

Cause if there’s one thing she don’t need

Its another little hungry mouth to feed

In the ghetto…

My eyes began to blur as I looked at the crowd. I tried to speak again, but all I could manage was a gasp. I had loved Kenny. More than as a friend. I had loved Kenny almost as much as I loved Stan. Still love them. Will always love them. Kenny had been taken from Stan and I. Cartman too I guess, although once we had started high school, we had seen less and less of Cartman, as he found his new place in the school ranks.

Eric Cartman. I hated to even think this, but he was right. Kenny was born across the tracks. Despite our weak attempts to help, without anyone that was really able to lend him a hand, he really never stood a chance.

People don’t you understand

The child needs a helping hand

Or he’ll grow to be an angry young man some day

I looked at all the people sitting in front of me. Kenny’s family seemed to stick out only due to the fact that they couldn’t even afford to buy dress clothes for this occasion. Before I could stop myself, I began to yell.

“Look at us, dressed in our nice new outfits, pressed and showing off to each other. Kenny’s family, which is the only family that matters right now, is dressed in everyday clothes! We all know that the McCormicks don’t have as much as us, and yet we turn away from them!”

Take a look at you and me

Are we too blind to see

Or do we simply turn our heads

And look the other way

I could hear the gasps from the crowd, and could feel the tears pouring openly down my cheeks now, and I slapped them away as I looked down at the notes I had written. They were a vortex of blurred scribbles through my leaking eyes. I looked away, and then I felt arms around my shoulders.

Stan.

He was here now, like he has always been. Our eyes met for a moment, and the smallest of smiles ghosted his lips.

“It’s alright, Kyle,” he said, “We can finish together.”

“Kenny had a perpetual cold,” Stan said. “Which he wasn’t afraid to share with Cartman, but was careful to avoid giving us. He never wanted to go home, after we were done hanging out, and I guess he would just...walk the streets.”

And the world turns

And the hungry little boy with the runny nose

Plays in the street as the cold wind blows

In the ghetto

“Kenny was always looking for something to eat.” I heard Stan say, now reading one of my funny anecdotes from the note card. “It seemed like he would eat anything and everything someone would sit in front of him. It got him more than one trip to the nurse.” The crowd laughed, the laugh was subdued, and seemed to be perfectly on cue.

“There was one time.” I said, getting a little courage from Stan. “And this wasn’t too long ago, that Kenny got into a fight with another student. The kid said that Kenny had been trying to steal his lunch money. Kenny beat the guy up pretty bad, and was kicked out for fighting.”

I stopped speaking, and looked at Stan. We knew that Kenny had tried to take that kid’s money, but I wasn’t going to say that here. If Kenny would have asked me, I would have given him anything I had, Stan would have too. Why didn’t we see that fight as a sign that Kenny needed us?

And his hunger burns

He starts to roam the streets at night

And he learns how to steal

And he learns how to fight

In the ghetto…

Stan cleared his throat.

“Kenny was a good friend, Kyle’s and my best friend. He was loyal, funny, and smart.” He seemed to choke up here as well. I pressed against him as he finished. “We are going to miss him, more than anything. Goodbye Kenny.”

“Goodbye, Kenny.” I said quietly, looking at the closed casket lid. I kissed Stan’s cheek as we walked back to our seats. I didn’t care who saw, or who knew anymore. I just wanted to keep my remaining love close to me.

Mr. Garrison stood up to speak, and Stan grabbed my hand and held it tightly as, in my mind, I recalled what had happened the night Kenny had died…

He had called me, and told me that his dad had hit him again, as he tried to stop his parents fight. His dad had blacked his eye pretty good from what Kenny told me.
I had told him to come to my house, but he said what he really needed was to be far away from this damn town, away from his life. He hung up before I could say anything.

I had called Stan, of course, and we had gone to look for him. By the time we had gotten there, Kenny was laying on the ground, blood pooled around his body. A gunshot wound made a gruesome hole in his upper back. I wanted to turn him over, Stan said we shouldn’t move him.

Then one night, in desperation

A young man breaks away

He buys a gun, steals a car

Tries to run, but he don’t get far

And his mama cries…

People had started to gather around. We could hear the sirens getting closer. Stan asked someone what happened. I could see tears on his cheeks, even in the dark. They told us that Kenny had tried to steal a car at gun point, but when he was trying to get away, the other guy shot out a tire, and pulled Kenny from the car. Kenny struggled free, and began to run away. He was shot once and he fell.

As the crowd gathers round an angry young man

Face down on the street

With a gun in his hand

In the ghetto…

Later that week, when Stan and I had gone to see the McCormick family, Kenny’s mom told us that the fight that had driven Kenny out of the house that night had started because she had told her husband that she was pregnant.

As her young man dies..

On a cold and grey [South Park] mornin’

Another little baby child is born

In the ghetto.

________________

hope you liked it. It came out like fury...so hope it was good ^_^