Behind the Hooded Mask

Just Another Dreadful Day

Kenny's POV

I wake to my eyes being blinded by the sun's bright light, piercing them like needles. My mind is in a haze as I feel a pain in my chest. I rub my eyes to attempt to soothe them from the sun's relentless stabbing light. I place my hand on my head as I try to process what happened the night prior to my awakening. I remember an abrupt loud sound, blood, the shouting of two anonymous men, the blurry mess of streetlights and buildings, and then black. The memories are vague and unclear but I could gather enough from them to put together that I had died yet again. Oh do I tire of this fucking bullshit!

I can hear the sound of my parents arguing, barely muffled by the seemingly paper-thin walls. I swear the walls of my house are so damn thin you can hear the slightest whisper from the room furthest from you. I reluctantly sit up, finally opening my eyes that I had been shielding from the sun's unrelenting rays. I look down at myself as my vision comes into focus. Yep, same o'l orange parka with no evidence of my death from the night before. I sigh heavily as I get up to face the day.

I exit my room to prepare for this dreadful day. I enter the bathroom and run cold water in the sink. Trying to collect myself, I gently remove my hood and splash my face with the water which feels cold as ice. I hesitantly look up at the reflection staring back at me. It's a reflection I cannot stand to see. I have come face to face with a boy who is suffering, a child who has dread and anguish plastered on his face. A boy who has endured things which are beyond anyone's comprehension. Someone who has seen almost everything and yet hasn't seen enough. The child I never want anyone to see. Pushing these thoughts aside, I replace the hood back on my head and pull the drawstrings tight covering my face once more. The mask is back on.

I hear the sound of sobbing from the other room. I exit the bathroom and head towards the source of the sound. I open the door to see Karen curled up in the corner of her room. She is sobbing with her hands covering her ears as she tries desperately to shield herself from the sound of the argument taking place in the living room. I cautiously approach my little sister as not to startle her in her already frail and distressful mindstate. I gently place my hand on her shoulder as she jolts ever so slightly from the unanticipated contact. She looks up at me as her fear and sorrow shifts into relief with a remaining hint of desperation and fear. "Kenny!" She screams as she quickly jumps up and hugs me tight, clinging onto me as if her life were in danger. She continues to sob as she tightens her grip on me, desperate for comfort in this terrifying situation.

These situations always get to me. None of my family even tries to properly handle this wretched lifestyle anymore. Four years ago, Kevin had begun to deteriorate from this constant stressful and traumatizing lifestyle. Over time he had lost the spirit to endure this bullshit anymore and had completely shut down. He barely lets anyone in and almost never talks. He has isolated himself from the rest of the world and has essentially blocked everything out, remaining within his own mind. My parents gave up on trying and only do the bare minimum to raise us. They primarily try to escape their problems and responsibilities by using various drugs in which they waste most of our family income on. They have been using drugs as a coping mechanism for as long as I can remember.

This leaves me with all of the weight of responsibility. I am the only one who has kept myself and my family together. When something goes awry, I am the sole person to keep everything from completely collapsing. Ever-since Kevin had become completely reclusive, I am the one Karen looks up to. Anytime she encounters a problem in her life, she comes to me for answers. I am her advisor, comforter, and protector. I dread the day that I fail her... Because I'm all she has.

But that day is not today. I am here, keeping her gently cradled in my arms, calmly rockinging her back and forth just like our mother used to do. "It's OK Karen, I'm here" I softly mumble with my muffled voice. Karen collects herself enough to speak. "Mo-Mommy a-nd D-Daddy are f--fighting again!" She shouts between sobs. "I know, I know. But I won't let them hurt you, I promise." I tell her as I hug her tightly. She continues to talk between sobs. "Why-why do they a-al-ways have to h-hurt each other?" She asks in a devastatingly heartbreaking tone. I look at her, unsure with how to respond. "Some...sometimes, life is painful. People don't know how to handle it and it leads them to hurt others. Sometimes making others feel their pain makes it seem less painful for them." I reply, unsure if my words were even the right ones. Sometimes I feel like I am not the most fitting person to be answering questions. I look at her as her expression seems to imply that she is more at ease and satisfied with my answer.

I stand up and reach out my hand. "Come on, we can't be late to school." She looks at me still fearful. "Don't worry, I'll keep you safe. No one is going to hurt you" I reassure her as she takes my hand. We cautiously slink past our parents who are too busy arguing to notice us leaving. Still holding Karen's hand, I head towards the bus stop. The only part of the day I look forward are the moments I spend with my best friends: Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, and Eric Cartma- wait...Do I actually consider that obese, inconsiderate, narcissistic asshole a true friend? Hmm...I'll have to think on that one... It depends on the circumstances I guess... I approach my friends at the bus stop.

I am the last one there as I stop and claim my usual spot at the bus stop. They, of course, are not paying attention to me and talking among themselves. Kyle and Cartman are arguing about the same bullshit as usual. It's practically a predictable formula at this point. It's always "Shut up fatass!" and "You stupid jew!" The formula has gotten so stale that it has casually faded into background noise that's easy to tune out. They finally take notice of me when Stan speaks up. "Hey Kenny." Stan greets as everyone else turns to see me. "Hey guys." My reply is simple and brief. "What's with the brat?" Cartman rudely questions. Karen's expression quickly changes, negatively reacting to Cartman's remark.

I immediately respond protectively, remembering how frail my sister can be at times. "That is my sister you are talking about ASSHOLE!" I spit with venom as I stare coldly at him. "Wow! Just look at her! She's already starting to cry! Man Keeny, you're sister's a pussy!" Cartman replies with absolute no fucks given. "That's enough!" I shout in disgust at Cartman's continued insults. But he keeps on going, trying to milk out any reaction he can from me. He leans forward only inches away from Karen's face. "Aww...what's the matter? Little scaredy pussy cat git lost in the alleyway? Is the little fraidy stray scared of the big mean o'l world? Lil kitty not respecting my authoritah?" Cartman relentlessly continues with his unfeeling mockery. "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER YOU FAT PIECE OF SHIT!" I shove him away from my sister who is sobbing once again as the fat son of a bitch smiles wickedly. "Cartman stop!" Stan demands as Kyle also comes into defence. "Enough is enough." Kyle states sternly. "Shut up you fucking jew! Nobody gives a shit about what you think!"

"Don't listen to him Karen, he's just being a dick." I bring her into a comforting hug as the bus arrives. We all step into the school bus with Karen and I being the last ones in. I take a seat near the back as far from Cartman as I possibly can. I keep Karen shielded in the comfort of my arms as the bus departures and heads towards South Park Elementary. I keep Karen comforted throughout the entire bus ride. The bus finally arrives at its destination as the door opens. Everyone hastefully clears the bus leaving me and Karen to be the last ones to exit the school bus. We approach the school doors, the both of us looking in dread.

This is going to be a long day...

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Author's notes- I have entrusted google docs to be the "proofreader" of my stories. I do not have anyone to do it, so I am using google docs instead. I am hoping it caught all of the grammar errors I fail to catch.

If you are wondering when Butters will appear, hold your horses. He'll appear in the next chapter.