Takes place just after Clydes mom has passed away, Kenny comes by to comfort him.
I watched him throughout his entire ordeal, spanning days. I never took my eyes off him. I don't think it was genuine affection or concern that kept me so enticed in his plight, no, I think it was the thought of someone else in South Park understand what I had gone through so many times before. Yes, I, Kenny McCormick was familiar with the loss, confusion, and pain that death could bring, and now Clyde was going through the same, though his naive mind couldn't even begin to comprehend what was going on, at least not this early in the stages of grief.
Clyde sat on a bunch, after his mother's funeral. I watched him, I had nowhere to go. Clyde sniffled weakly; the look on his face was so sad and confused. The confusion was what got me, I think. I knew what happened when people died, I had gone through it over, and over, again, but none of the other children had, just me. I understood death; I knew what it took to get into heaven, and what you needed to do wrong to get into hell, because I had been on both sides of the fence before.
Clyde was struggling to choke down tears, he looked so lost and small, just sitting there by his lonesome, none of his usual rowdy friends around. Even Stan, Kyle, and Cartman had gone home for the day, leaving just me and Clyde. The little boy looked around, he seemed so confused, so lost in all of this. His mother was dead, and he was to blame.
He was normally such a crybaby, it was odd to see him choking back tears, I sighed, I couldn't stand watching this anymore, at first it had made me feel good, that someone else understood my pain, but now it was starting to get pathetic. Clyde sniffled some more, and wiped his nose onto his sleeve.
"Clyde," I called out quietly, the little boy looked over at me, when he saw my face his expression stiffened, he clearly was trying to put on a brave front for the rest of the town, but I knew better, and I think so did he. "Come here," I said calmly, gesturing for him to come over to me, he hesitated, taking only a minute or so before he got up slowly and walked to me. I don't know what overcame me at that moment, what provoked me into suddenly caring, but I wrapped my arms around Clyde and pulled him against my chest, he froze up for only a moment. Then he sobbed, he let out angry, pained, large tears. They ran down his cheeks and fell onto my parka. I held him tighter and allowed him to have his fit.
"It's okay," I whispered in his ear. "Yes, your mother is dead but she's still here in some way. I can't explain it to you but trust me." I don't even think he heard me, he was too busy burying his face in my chest to pay attention.
"Dying isn't so bad, I die all the time." I didn't know why I was telling him this, maybe because I just needed someone to tell. "People think its cool but, honestly? No matter what happens dying hurts. Your mom is no different," I began to stroke his hair, he had calmed down just enough to finally make sense of my words. He starred up at me with wide eyes. He was so innocent and oblivious to death, I - . . . it was wrong but I wanted to ruin that for him. I wanted to expose him to it in the roughest way possible, by telling him about it directly after his mom . . . well you know.
"All deaths are painful, Clyde. Its funny, people think you die in their sleep and they don't feel anything. Trust me you do, its just . . . not quite as bad. It surprises you so you can't even register that you're dying until 'poof', you're in heaven or hell." He looked at me like I wasn't speaking English. I smiled at him and shook my hood off my head, holding him gently in my arms.
"It's fine if you don't believe me, but trust me there is a heaven and a hell. I've tried telling Kyle all along, the Mormons were right," I shrugged. "I know you're worried, but your mom probably ended up in heaven. She seemed like she wasn't the nicest person in the world but . . . only truly bad people end up down in hell. You see, god is trying to-" the look of confusion on his face was growing, I decided to reel it back a bit, maybe this was a bit too much for him to comprehend in one setting. He still had a few sloppy, wet tears staining his cheeks; I rubbed them off with the back of my hand. "It isn't important."
He sniffled again, gripping my parka in his small hands. "Wh-why are you telling me this?" He said it so brokenly. I wished people still used that kind of voice when they talked about me after my deaths.
"I don't know. I was going to comfort you, but . . . you won't remember any of this anyways, so I guess it's fine if I tell you," I shrugged and ran my fingers through his hair again. He let out another pained cry, clearly not done with his wailing yet.
"Oh c'mon, you were doing so well a few minutes ago. Hush now," I silently led him back over to the bench. I wrapped one arm around his waist and held his hands with the other. He followed me obediently, leaning on me for support. It was truly a shame I would die and he would not remember what he'd learned today.
I let Clyde get through another fifteen minutes or so of waterworks, and finally he was silent once again, wiping at his nose like the little kid he was. He was sniffling so much, I almost went to get him a box of tissues, but then shrugged it off.
"Clyde," he looked up at me again, and I looked down at him seriously. "This was not your fault, I hope you understand that. No matter what people say, people die. They are responsible for their own deaths, she was responsible for hers and you will be responsible for yours. So be quiet now, and no more crying, okay?" Clyde struggled with a response, he'd been so quiet this entire time I almost forgot he could talk. I wrapped my arms around his chest and pulled him onto my lap, nuzzling my face into the back of his neck.
As we sat there, starring out over the area I told Clyde stories about heaven and hell. It might seem morbid, but I think they actually calmed him down a little bit. It was probably a comfort to know that when you died you did go somewhere, it wasn't such a big mystery after all.
`It was just after sunset when I finally died. A tree that we'd been sitting under had collapsed and impaled me through the chest. I reflexively pushed Clyde out of the way just in time, not that anything would have happened to him if I hadn't. He stood there crying as he watched me fade away, and I was almost sad our time together was over.
A few moments later and Clyde had completely forgotten what he was doing or why he was out in the yard for so long. He still felt sad about his mother, but, he'd somehow come to peace over her not being there anymore. His eyes were sore from crying, so he decided to go to sleep.
The next morning on his walk to school he saw Kenny chatting with Stan, and Kyle. The blonde looked over at him and he smiled. Clyde didn't know why, but all of the sudden that kind-hearted boy seemed almost angelic. Every time he looked at him after that day he felt comfort for some strange, unknowable reason.