The people that you must remember (Kenny x Reader) (COMPLETE)

Hey kids wanna see a dead body

Sunday.

Funeral day.

Your radio was unusually silent for once as you drove your beat up old truck through Crested Butte. Mitch sat next to you in the passenger seat while Sprinkle and King sat together in the back. Surprisingly, you guys weren't the only ones going. Kenny, Karen, Vampyr, Allison, Bloodrayne and Annie sat in your truck bed, and Wendy was following behind you in her car with Stan and Kyle.

It was touching, how many people had come to support you in doing this.

"....Are you really gonna be okay talking at this, mama?" King asked, peering out from behind Mitch. His short dreads had been pulled into a baby ponytail and for once he wore something other than that old red jacket he always had on. A white dress shirt and some grey slacks. Mitch had come in a full on suite along with Sprinkle, and you had opted for a short sleeved black blouse and long black skirt. All black. The usual for you, but today this black felt heavier than usual. Heavier and cold. "I'll be fine."

You would not be fine. But it wasn't exactly like you had a choice. You'd been asked, by August's parents specifically. You pulled up to the Oh Be Joyful church on Marion avenue. It was an old two story building that kind of looked like a house. Tan in color, with a big brown front door and patio. You'd attended church here a few times, though eventually your grandparents had given up on trying to make you go. Out front was a lot of grownups you recognized. Teachers from Jr high and elementary school, the old man that owned the roller rink, and August's parents, though you only barely recognized them.

Flora and Juan Sinclair had aged drastically after their only son had gone missing. Flora had frown and worry lines on her face, and Juan's once neat black hair was already greying. The two were hardly in their forties from what you guessed, and already they looked so much older than that. The loss of their son had taken a heavy toll, and this, their child turning up dead, his funeral almost how many years later? It wasn't helping them any. You often read on true crime forums that not knowing if your child was alive or not was the worst state a parent in a missing persons case could be in, but seeing these two now, you couldn't help but wonder if they were any worse of now that they knew their son was dead. Had been for years, hidden right under everyone's noses, so close.

You pulled up into the parking lot and killed the engine, climbing out. The Sinclair's turned to see the new arrivals and Flora held out her hands, walking over. You gave a thin, forced smile as she reached out and touched your face. Her hands were cold and thin. "(Y/N)...look at you.." It had been..a while. The Sinclair's moved away a year after August had gone missing. You hadn't kept in touch, it wasn't exactly like you had reason to. They were your friend's parents, that was all. "You're so pretty now.." "Y-Yeah...thank you, Mrs. Sinclair."

You were hating this more and more by the second.

Flora looked up as Mitch and the others climbed out. Wendy had parked beside you and she was currently turning off her car. "I recognize Mitchell and King and Laura Sprinkles, but who are all these children.." "They're...my friends. They...they wanted to be here."

You saw her eyes glaze over. Her lips trembled and she pulled them into a smile.

"That...That's lovely. Let's get inside. Things....things are about to start soon."

You watched King and Mitch leave with Juan before you went inside the Oh Be Joyful church with Flora, the others following after you. You then went through the church and out to the cemetery out back. A single table was set up, covered with a black cloth and photos of August set on it. There was baby photos, a photo of when he lost his two front teeth. Boy Scouts, the boy's choir..then, most of the pictures after that had you in them. You and Tiger and Damien and Mitch. You'd stopped in your tracks and stared at one photo in particular, clutching the front of your shirt.

You sat on a bench with August, your (h/c) hair cut short after a boy in class had decided to play hair salon and take off one of your pigtails. You'd given him a black eye but we're still upset, so...August had taken you for ice cream. And that's what you were both holding in the photo. August had a come of chocolate with only one scoop, while he'd bought you two scoops. You were both grinning at whoever was behind the camera, probably his mom. You remembered that day, cold almost smell the sweet, cold air of the ice cream parlor.

The yard went silent and you tore your eyes from the photo. Juan was coming through the cemetery gates, King, Mitch, and your old art teacher from her high helping him carry a coffin.

A small coffin.

This was going to be the longest day of the week.