AN: Hey, so it's been a while since I've tried my hand at this whole fanfiction thing, but I would be lying if I said I didn't miss it. These are just some short themed drabbles I'm doing to pass some newly acquired free time. I'm sorry for my horrific formatting. Forgive me and my rustiness! Hope you enjoy anyways.
1) Time
Tick
The young kindergartener gripped his mother's legs tightly, pressing his face into the side of one of her thighs in an attempt to both shield himself from the big scary room full of children his own age and keep her there for as long as possible. The large red headed woman barely took notice as she chatted casually with her son's new teacher. Kyle hated this place already. The room was too big and too bright. There were so many kids screaming and yelling and being friends and Kyle didn't know any of them.
"HEY, HEY YOU. YOU WITH THE GREEN HAT. I LIKE THAT HAT. I NEVER SAW ONE LIKE THAT BEFORE," Kyle peeled his face away from his mother's leg to gaze at the only slightly older boy who had just yelled at him. The boy was just his height with short black hair and the biggest smile Kyle had ever seen in his whole entire life. Before Kyle could formulate some kind of reply the raven-haired boy cut him off, "MY NAME'S STAN. COME ON LET'S GO PLAY. DON'T WORRY YOUR MOMMY WILL BE BACK LATER WITH ALL THE OTHER MOMMIES AND DADDIES. I PROMISE." Stan gazed expectantly at his new quiet friend with the funny hat, his large grin still plastered across his face. Despite Stan's reassurances, Kyle was on the verge of tears as he glanced back up at his mother.
"It's okay, bubee. Little Stanley's right. I'll be back before you know it. Go have fun!" For some reason these words from Kyle's mother though meant to comfort only made her departure all the more real. He gripped her legs as if his life depended on it. His muscles strained to keep her in place, his breathing quickened, his heart beat like mad, he was sure he was about to explode and die… and then suddenly, he wasn't. Stan had come over and started rubbing his back and slowly prying his arms from about his mom's legs.
"It really is okay, kid." Stan started, his voice for once resting at a more normal volume, "C'mon, we'll go play with the blocks. Those are the best and nobody's even using them right now."
Kyle's muscles relaxed as he let himself be pulled away from his mother. He knew if he even so much as glanced back at his mom to wave goodbye he would start sobbing again so he did the only thing he could do; focus on Stan's little too loud voice and his little too big smile and the red mittened hand that hung around his wrist a little too tight and the big colorful blocks that sounded like a lot of fun.
Tock
"Duuuuuuuude. DUUUUUUUUDE. DUDE! SERIOUSLY, KYLE? C'MON MAN WE'RE GONNA BE LATE." It was only at this point that Kyle had realized that he had been completely spacing out. It was only now that he registered that an all too familiar red mitten clad hand had been waving between his face and the bedside alarm clock Kyle had been staring at. He was in his best friend's room. He glanced down at himself taking in the black graduation gown he was in. His hand shot up to touch the graduation cap he and Stan had managed to haphazardly bobby pin into place atop his mass of red curls. He looked over at his best friend in question who was fixing his own cap now.
Holy shit. We're fucking graduating from high school today. Holy. Fucking. Shit.
"We seriously need to go dude," Stan announced again distractedly, clearly growing impatient with the cap that kept slipping over his sleek black hair and down the side of his head, "Ken and Cartman are gonna be waiting for us, and you know we still have to get through the death trap that is our parents' mix of tears and crazy ass picture taking," he finished finally managing to secure his cap, a smile plastered across his face at his own achievement. His arm shot out at Kyle's wrist to pull his seemingly dazed friend from his room to the waiting hell that was their two sets of parents combined.
Kyle's muscles relaxed as he let himself be pulled away from the room that held so many memories of his life here in South Park. He knew if he even so much as glanced back at this sanctuary he would start sobbing so he did the only thing he could do; focus on Stan's little too familiar voice and his little too familiar smile and the all too familiar grip of the red mittened hand that hung around his wrist and the big expansive and all encompassing idea that was their future.