South Park Box of Matches

Life is like a box of matches.

When you strike it, it'll burn… and it will continue to burn brighter and brighter… Until, it slowly burns away. The light fading along with the warmth. What it leaves behind is a skeleton of charred black. And no matter what you do, there is no way to get that stick back to its previous form. It will forever be a charred remain.

Forever changed.

Nothing left but a black, brittle substance.

And just like a discarded match, Lizzy was forgotten too.

She had been charred more than once. She was going through a small patch in her life. A mix of feeling stirring in her chest. Thinking about her immortality and her future. It was like striking that charred match onto the bumpy side of the matchbox. It's cold, brittle and will no longer light. And maybe, Kevin knew that.

No, no… he had no idea.

It was a bright, shiny day. Everything was hunky-dory and lollipops in South Park.

It was one of those little outings that Kevin would drag her out of the house for. It should have been the other way around. She should have been dragging Kevin out of the house because he was such a shut in.

Sitting on the bench at Stark's Pond, made her feel even worse. The serene surroundings stirred feelings in her chest. So she did something she always did when she felt that way.

She lit a match.

The red part of the match caught the bumps and it ignited in flame. Tilting it to the side, she watched the flame swallowed up the stick, tickling her fingertips with the familiar feeling of warmth. And with one breath, the flame was extinguished.

She held the charred stick in her palm, picking it up and placing it back in the small box… Where they will never be forgotten.

Beside her, Kevin sat with a dumb expression. Some he called being in, 'the zone'. The type of face he would make where his tongue would stick out of the corner of his mouth and his eyebrows would furrow. He studied the two screens, pressing buttons hastily and flicking the stylus.

Kevin, fortunately, never changed.

Lizzy gave the man a once over silently before returning to her matchbox. Running a few fingertips over the frayed and worn cardboard, she grimaced. It contained all her bad feelings. It was her, 'life reliever' as Kenny put it. He used a gun because it was quick and painful but matches were portable. The flames never hurt for long. After the nerve endings burned away, it didn't hurt anymore.

The matches made everything better and worse.

She was stirred from her thoughts when she heard the man hiss:

"Shit, shit, shit!" He wriggled more as the game became more and more 'intense'. The man continued to fidget and curse under his breath as Lizzy brought up another match but this time, before she could blow it out, his elbow knocked into hers. The match fumbled from her fingertips and landed on her thigh. The fire made no time eating a small hole in her jeans.

For a split second, she almost wanted to leave it there.

But she decided not to let Kevin see that.

She didn't want to let him watch.

She jumped from the bench with a small cry, brushing the match away and rubbing the small hole. Kevin snapped his head up towards her, his attention off the game for a second. He must have been completely unaware. Way too far into the zone to even notice.

"What the hell?" The pink parka woman practically shrieked, "You squinty eyed fuck, are you trying to kill me? Can't you stay on your side of the bench and not hit my elbows?"

Kevin, once having a look of concern on his face, turned his attention from her and back to his game. His concerned look slipping into one of disgust. Lizzy liked Kevin when he didn't take any bullshit from her but… "Maybe, just maybe, if you didn't sit so close to _me_ we wouldn't have to bump elbows."

Lizzy threw her finger down to the middle of the bench where she had been sitting, "Yeah, why don't you scoot away? I was here first."

"Why do you have to make everything so difficult? Just scoot away."

The woman's face scrunched up slightly in a mix of hurt and anger. Her eyes led down to his game being held loosely in his hands. She pocketed her matches and in a flash, swiped up his game. Kevin didn't even notice at first, but when he did, he was up and ready to get it back. That was, until he backed off when she thumbed the power button. And that was enough to turn the smartass Asian into putty in her hands.

"Lizzy," he placed his hands in the air, as if it were a hostage situation and she was holding the life gun to him. "Come on, don't do anything stupid. I haven't saved in a few hours… My Charmander is level forty-two and I'm fighting elite four. You can't just shut it off!"

You see, there was a big difference from manually saving and auto-saving. Kevin was completely screwed and Lizzy knew this, she knew this very well. And being the bitch she was, she used it to her advantage.

"Hm," she wiggled the DS in her hand, teasing him. "And why should I listen to you? What could you possibly ever give me that I want?"

What would she want from Kevin? What did she _really_ want? Possibly understanding. His support. His recognition. His comfort. Maybe even his love.

There were so many things she wanted from him.

There was no wrong answer.

Kevin was quiet for a long while, looking to her with a puzzled, yet frightened look. He only cared about his precious game. It wasn't a life or death situation but… There was no wrong answer and yet he didn't even attempt to give one.

"That's what I thought."

And in one quick movement, she shut it off to Kevin's horror. She tossed the DS into the snow, as if it were a discarded rag. And like a damsel in distress, Kevin got down on his knees and saved it, cradling it close.

Kevin examined her closely, his nostrils flaring, "What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you do that?!" It wasn't about the game anymore to either of them. Kevin continued to rant to deaf ears, "Why do you have to be such a bitch? Jesus fucking Christ, can't you just act right?"

The woman didn't notice it, but she was breaking character as she began to fumble in her pocket for a match. She knew Kevin was picking up on the subtle gestures. Like the twitch of her lip. The way her eyes became glassy. How red her face was becoming.

It was useless to even hide it.

"Hello? Lizzy?" he groaned, "You're not going to say anything back?"

The woman in the pink parka plopped on the bench. Not in the middle. Sitting next to the arm of the bench. Far away from Kevin as she could. Far, far on the other side where he wouldn't bother her.

She gave up her spot. She admitted defeat.

Sighing in exasperation as he plopped next to her much to Lizzy's dismay, as she squeezed herself even farther into the arm, avoiding his eyes completely. The man sat forward, taking a more aggressive position. "This is usually the part when you say something like, 'you're a butt-muncher, you bitch-ass-bitch'."

Lizzy freed a match from the box, fumbling in her parka to light it.

She flinched when she felt him yank her closer, making her look at him. "Are you alright?"

"I'm perfectly fine. It's not like there's something wrong or anything like that… no." The woman continued on, "It's not like everything isn't hunky-dory and lollipops in my life."

That tone of hers couldn't fool anyone. She could have blatantly told him something was wrong at that point.

Soo, instead she changed the subject.

"Hey… Kevin? Do you ever feel like things are like box of matches?" She searches her pocket before holding up the little box, shaking them for good measure. "This box is our whole little life. And each time we strike a match… the little sticks are burned and we lose a little part of ourselves."

"I think you've been hanging out with Kenny way too much." He said rather seriously.

Kenny was gloomy, that was true. Maybe it was an immortal thing? But something about the comment evoked rage inside of her. "I thought you would take me serious. I guess it just won't tell you what I think about anymore, since I'm so much like Kenny."

Then he did something she wasn't exactly ready for.

His hands found hers, covering them and the little life reliever. "Tell me what's wrong." He wasn't asking, he was demanding.

She tried to brush it off, trying to find the strength to laugh it off and tell him to stop being such a fag but the words never came. Instead he held her hands even tighter. "Lizzy, it's okay. You don't have to tell me what's wrong if you don't want to. But, don't run away from your problems either. I just don't want you…well, sad-"

"I'm not sad." She snapped, "I don't know how to explain it. I just… feel burnt out. No, wait… Yeah, that's exactly what it is."

Lizzy peered down to his hands on hers. They were bigger, obviously, but boney. Stringy. A different color than her cold, pale ones. Not exactly highlighter yellow like she always teased him about. A soft and warm color.

She had to restrain herself from pushing him away and screaming at him about how he didn't understand anything or that she didn't want his sympathy.

Lizzy fidgeted again, the feelings stirring up again. She opened the matchbox, shifting through lit, skeleton matches before finding one that wasn't. And before she could even pull it out, Kevin snagged it from her. She attempted to clamor after it, panicking slightly. "Give it back! Don't break it!"

"Kids shouldn't play with matches," He opened the little box with a snort, "You know, life is like a box of matches. You need the matches and the box. But without one the other is useless. And when you burn them, you might lose a part of yourself… but you'll always have more matches. And if you need some, I'll give you some of mine."

She was readying a comeback but… something echoed with her about what he said.

Something clicked with her.

"I can't believe you killed my DS too. I named my Charmander after you. My _Charmander_. I haven't even evolved her because she's cute like you."

Instead of retaliating like Kevin had done, the blonde pushed the box into his hand with a small smile. "You can have the whole box. I don't need it anymore."

It took Kevin by surprise, causing him to narrow his eyes at the girl, "Why? I thought I was sincere."

"It wasn't the stuff you said. It's what I might do with it. Burning to death is really painful."

The man's eyes widened as she said it and she laughed it off. Remembering all the times she used the box as a quick, 'life reliever'.

What it leaves behind is a skeleton of charred black. And no matter what you do, there is no way to get that stick back to its previous form. It will forever be a charred remain. Forever changed. Nothing left but a black, brittle substance.

"What?"

"Nothing," she scooted into his side wrapping his arms around his neck and hiding her face in his neck. "Just hold onto your little Charmander, okay butt-muncher?"


End file.

South Park, Drama, Romance