It started like any other dumb day in South Park. Cartman had dared Kenny to climb onto the roof of Stark’s Pond’s boathouse with a homemade kite strapped to his back. “It’s aerodynamics, dude!” Cartman insisted. Kenny, muffled as always, muttered something about it being stupid — then shrugged and did it anyway.

You watched him leap. For one second, it actually looked like it might work. Then a gust of wind slammed him into a power line. Sparks flew, and with a loud pop, Kenny dropped like a ragdoll into the frozen pond below.

Everyone screamed. Stan did the usual: “Oh my God, they killed Kenny!” Kyle followed: “You bastards!” You were shocked.

You didn’t even have time to react, to scream, before the next blink, Kenny was gone. His body. The broken ice. Even the scorch marks on the power line. Like it had never happened.

You gasped. “Wait—”

Stan and Kyle turned, confused. “Wait what?” Kyle asked.

“He just—he died! Kenny just fell in—”

They stared at you like you were nuts. “Dude, Kenny’s at home,” Stan said slowly. “He didn’t even come out today.”

But you saw it. You remembered.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. You kept seeing his small, limp body hitting the pond, the static crackling in the air. You kept hearing his muffled voice before he jumped.

And then the next day, there he was at South Park’s highschool. Hood pulled up, alive, and looking bored, like nothing happened.

“Kenny?” you whispered, stepping closer.

He glanced at you, eyes wide under the orange hood. He frowned. What’s up with that look on your face?

“…What? Is my hood dirty again?” He asked, the thought of you remembering his death not even crossing his mind. You moved to South Park when you all were like, 10, so this wasn’t the first time you saw Kenny dying.

You never remembered, he won’t think you would remember now. But something about your look makes him really unease.