What did he have? Nothing left – that was for sure. His parents were… well, he didn't even really have parents anymore. And his friends… wait, what the fuck was he talking about? His "friends" no longer wished to be that. It was his fault, though. All of it was his fault.
His mom and dad were leaving each other. He never thought, for even a second, that they would ever get a divorce. They seemed so… well put together. They seemed so happy. They seemed so loving toward each other when they weren't having their fights over the stupid shit his dad was doing. But that was it… it was just stupid. Nothing else. It's not like anything he ever did made the house explode or anything. And now, Stan was losing the only organized thing in his life. No more mom and dad. Just mom, and just dad. He hated them both at that moment. They were taking away his family and replacing it with a broken one. He didn't want a broken one. He couldn't have a broken one.
There was no up-side to it. His whole life was spent feeling a little bit thankful that his parents were still married when he heard about some kid that didn't have both of them around.
It would be so much different if Kyle still liked him. If he still wanted to hang out. But no, just because Stan saw things for how they truly were – just because Stan had matured – he wasn't fitting in. It hurt him tremendously when he thought about the fact that Kyle, his very best friend, could handle leaving him behind. They had been through so much. Fuck the other guys. He hated Cartman for the most part, and Kenny could never be as great of a friend as Kyle. Well, not anymore, that was. Kyle wasn't much of a friend at all.
He couldn't blame him. It wasn't his fault that Stan had grown up to be the way he was. Maybe he had been prone to it, all of his life. Maybe this was all supposed to happen. Maybe his cynical attitude was just depression in disguise.
That was no mistake. Of course Stan was depressed. So incredibly, suicidally depressed.
And it showed.
He looked down. Loud cars and screaming-in-terror pedestrians – who were, of course, screaming in terror because of him – were beneath his feet. He wondered how many people would show up to his funeral if he killed himself. Surely his parents would. But not together. They would never be together, ever again.
Kyle would, but he would only remember Stan as the kid who was his best friend before he turned his back on him. He wouldn't mention that. He wouldn't tell everyone that he'd abandoned Stan. He wouldn't tell anyone that he was pretty much the reason Stan had offed himself in the first place.
No. That was wrong. It wasn't Kyle's fault. He couldn't blame Kyle. It was Stan's doing. It was his fault. It was his destiny to do this. To take 'the easy way out'. To end his shitty life at his own hands. He was doing himself a favor.
He wondered if God had anything to do with it. Was God even real? He was torn; it made sense both ways. God could be just as cynical as Stan and had planned his life to go to shit. And if God wasn't real, then of course the big 'caring' dude in the sky wasn't around to fix up his life for him.
There was one thing he was certain of, though. He had to do this. It was right for him to do this.
If there was a heaven or hell, he would have to apologize to someone eventually. But for some reason, he was inching toward the belief that he would simply rot in a box in the ground.
What a great future for a ten-year-old.
It was too late to write a note. But everyone would be able to figure out his reasoning. He didn't need his last written words to linger on anyone's mind, anyway.
What if someone else killed themselves because he did?
His father wouldn't. His father could just shrug it off. His mother… he was more worried about his mother. Well, not really worried. He really didn't care about his parents anymore either way. Maybe this would be a wake-up call for them. Maybe they would realize that they truly did love each other still, and all it took was their son's death. At least they would get back together for Shelly's sake.
There. That was another reason to do it. Another favor to someone other than himself. Actually, it was three favors to three people.
Kyle was happier without Stan in his life rather than with. He figured it wouldn't make much of a difference for him. If he was willing to walk away from their friendship and purely forget about Stan, he surely wouldn't care much if he was literally no longer in his life.
He had more to die for than to live for. He was hitting that hard truth with every second he spent up on the school building's ledge. What a way to go, he thought. At least the kids in the school would be able to tell a story.
Stan's eyebrows furrowed with streaks of pain as that green hat caught his gaze. His mother was holding him back, trying to shield his eyes.
He'll know about it either way. You can't hide him away forever.
But Kyle'd broken her grasp. What a great way to signify his and Stan's friendship. Stan couldn't help but grin in pity for himself.
From what Stan could see, Kyle's mouth was open in – what he was figuring, anyway – surprise. And horror. As if he wasn't expecting this.
As if they all weren't fucking expecting this.