Ghost park

Chapter 3

We walked into the school and reached our lockers just as the bell rang. Me and butters had first period together in the English room. I felt a feeling of nostalgia as I walked through the emptying hallways that I had known since I was 5. I would be moving into middle school next year so this was my last year in South Park elementary. Although me and butters should be in 7th grade by now, we had been held back a year due to the tragic incident that took place 3 years prior. Our entire grade had died due to the event, bar me and butters, with me being immortal and Butters being grounded the day of the incident.

I was so lost in thought that I almost didn't notice the familiar footsteps quickly approaching us. Growing up in a house with two crazy drug addict parents, an annoying little sister and a slight porn obsession had made me subconsciously memorise the footsteps of people around me just in case. I stopped in my tracks when i realised whose footsteps these were. I froze.
"Ken are you ok?" Butters asked, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I grabbed Butters hand suddenly making him yelp in shock and sped around the corner, expecting to see him.
"KYLE!" I yelled as I turned to corner feeling my heart thumping faster at the thought of seeing my best friends again after 3 long painful years without them. I turned the corner and was met with the usual empty hallways that winded around our school.
"But I heard him" I muttered under my breath as butters pulled at my hand to get my attention.
"Kenny I think you should talk to Mr Mackey again" he said with a pleading expression on his face. I muttered some half arsed response as he dragged me towards the counsellors office. I was too lost in my own thoughts. I was sure I had heard him. Yeah it was definitely him. Maybe I was just hearing things... no I wasn't hearing things.. was I?

Before I knew it I was sat in the counsellors office listening to Mr Mackey drone on about how I need to be open about my emotions. I didn't mind being in the counsellors office as I wanted a good excuse to skip class anyways. I was almost completely zoned out when Mr Mackey said something that made me snap back to reality.
"I understand that what you've been through is hard mkay but there's no need to be such a negative Nancy about it" the shitty elementary school counsellor said in an arrogant tone. I snapped my head towards him and almost snarled
"you don't know half the shit I've been through don't you fucking hit me with that 'I understand mkay' bullshit" I stood up from my chair and stormed out of the room, ignoring Mr Mackey's attempts to reprimand me. I heard Butters calling for me and the counsellor door shutting again, presumably with Butters inside. My guess was Mr Mackey dragged him in there to interrogate him about me.

Emotions ram through my had faster than I could process them. I was angry. So angry. What gives people the right to speak to me like I'm some wounded child. I've been through more these they can imagine yet I'm still treated like I'm a fragile vase that could shatter into pieces at any second.

I stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door. My anger bubbled away into sadness and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I crumpled to the dirty bathroom floor, my back pressed up against the poorly vandalised door. The tears threatened to spill as my heart sank into my stomach.

I took a few deep breaths, refusing to let myself cry, especially in school, and stood up walking towards one of the cubicals. Might as well have a smoke I thought reaching for a pack in the pocket of my orange parka. I lit a fag and popped it in my mouth, sighing with relief as the smoke filled my lungs and slightly burnt my throat. I sat there for what seemed like hours thinking about my friends and what my life had become after the incident. When they died It didn't bother me. I know that's horrible to say but I was barely 10 and death didn't seem like a big deal, especially since I had faced it hundreds of times and been fine. But after years of not seeing the smiling faces of the people I loved most it had broken me.

I felt the tears well up in my eyes again and I was about to let them spill when I heard a faint toot. I jumped in surprise and stomped my cig out at the thought of another person being in the bathroom. I exited my cubical and pushed my ear to the door of the one beside me, trying to discover the source of the noise. I had looked under the gap of the door but saw no one's feet.

"FOR FUCKS SAKE CARTMAN" a familiar voice screamed before the cubical door came smashing into my face after a few moments of silence.
"IF YOU DIDNT EAT SO FUCKING MUCH YOUR FARTS WOULDNT SMELL THAT BAD" a very angry Kyle Broflovski yelled, pinching his nose and running out of the cubical, his best friend Stan at his heels.
"Sorry. Chef gave me apple juice this morning" cartman grumbled plopping his fat arse down on the toilet seat. I sat against the wall massaging the part of my face that has just been hit with a door and watched the scene unfold. It was my three best friends. My three dead best friends. My chest tightened and I struggled to take a full breath in.

"Shit dude we scared him" Stan said with a concerned expression on his face
"Sorry Kenny" Kyle and Cartman muttered in unison. My eyes were wide and tears were once again threatening to spill. After sitting in stunned silence for a few moments I finally managed to string enough letters together to form a word
"Dude" I gasped, frozen in place. What the fuck was going on. I tried to speak only to be left with my jaw wide open in shock. I stared at the ghostly outlines of my dead friends that somehow stood in front of me. Each boy looked the exact same they had when they died except they were just coloured outlines rather than the human beings they once were.