A/N This is my first Style fic, so please go easy! Anyways, enjoy, guys.
Tired eyes open to the sight of a bare ceiling, painted white, and walls painted a fair purple. He never liked that color. Purple just seemed too…feminine? Not exactly the kind of room that a little boy would find to his ideal interests.
He just stared at the ceiling, imagining that it was an empty canvas, blank and for the painting. He was always into art and stuff, but never really got around to honing it to the point of utmost confidence. When creating something, from an artist's standpoint, it will always suck no matter what you do. So he just stared at the blankness in front of his eyes, knowing that simple fact, yet failing to understand why it was true. He painstakingly yet numbly turned to his side, the only thing greeting him being the window that shone obnoxious sunlight into his cold eyes. He could already feel a headache coming on, and it was annoying as hell, so he instead turned to the opposite side of the windowed wall to blankly stare at another whilst wrapping an arm around the pillow on which his head rested. The walls were stripped of anything and everything that used to bring any kind of diversity to his room. Empty holes where nails used to be, dust surrounding the spots where posters and picture frames used to adorn these lifeless purple walls.
The boy let his eyes hang half way shut, but never closing them, not even to blink. Staring at the walls, he thought…it's empty. It's all empty.
His ceiling, his walls, his heart. Just like a blank canvas, waiting to be painted on. What that painting is, well…he wouldn't know yet. But what he did know, was that when he finally paints on it, no matter what he does, in his eyes…it will be the worst thing he had ever created. No one will ever like it, see beauty in it. And try as he may, there will never be a damn thing he could do about it.
Without further ado, he blindly shut off the alarm clock next to him that he just noticed was ringing in his ear. Throwing his hand on the button lightly, he hit mistakenly the one picture he had left in the room, which always sat on the nightstand. It crashed to the floor and he just closed his eyes in worthless frustration. Realizing what he had done, he rolled over and reached his arm down under the bed to pick up the frame, which now housed cracked glass right down the middle and in a few other places, much to his inner dismay. The photograph was of him and his best friend, Kyle Broflovski. Stan managed a light smile, looking down at the picture, which he now had in both hands, resting on his lap. Kyle had his arm slung comfortably around Stan's shoulder, with his other hand throwing up a peace sign. Stan was laughing joyously in the picture, looking at his friend who was looking at the camera with a great big grin and winking an eye. Stan finished looking at the picture. He looked from the photo back up and out the window again, this time the sunlight not being as troublesome as before.
He put his feet on the carpet and laid the broken frame to rest back on the nightstand. Hobbling tiredly over to the window, he once again was greeted by the sight of a moving van parked outside and loaded up. He looked at it for a few moments, observing the two guys who were chit chatting over a hot cup of coffee, probably waiting for the ready to take off with the truck to whatever location it was going to.
Stan just kinda looked at them with a blank expression on his face, and an emotionless state of mind before slowly shutting his blinds, extinguishing all light from his room, except for what little light bled through the cracks. He walked over to his door, retrieving a change of clothes hanging from it. He pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed the new one, a plain white tee. Next he grabbed his jeans, and threw them on along with his brown jacket and socks. Lastly, there was his hat. He picked it up, felt it in his hands for a bit, and put it on, concealing his jet black hair.
Grasping the doorknob, he let himself out of the dark box he felt he was trapped in, and walked through the empty hallway to the stairs, which he descended half-heartedly while staring at whatever happened to catch his eye, which wasn't much. So he continued down the stairs as if they were merely in his way. Walking into his kitchen, he saw his mother, Sharon sitting there with a cup of coffee. His father had already moved out, and Sharon couldn't be more at peace. Couldn't be more oblivious.
Stan's POV
"Good morning Stanley." She said brightly yet calmly.
I just looked over to her as I passed by to the counter, returning the greeting generically. I reached up for the cabinet door to get a pack of pop tarts, which I had grown accustomed to over the past couple weeks. After the divorce, we naturally stopped cooking family breakfasts. Though it only happened like once a week, it was still something I just now realized I missed so much that it hurt, like everything else.
Mom sat there with her coffee, clasping it in both hands as she stared into thin air, pondering to herself.
"You know that it's 11:30 right?" She asked out of the blue, not even making eye contact with me.
I turned my head from the cabinet to look at her, then also into thin air for a moment before apologizing for sleeping in. As if there was anything to get up to. I didn't care, it's not like I'm missing anything, all the days are the same, and they're long.
"Sorry." I said as mom just repositioned her head casually, still staring out into nothing.
"Thought I might as well sleep in." I finished, turning back to the cabinet to get my pop tarts.
"Well lucky for you, everything's already packed up, so I didn't need any help this morning."
Yeah. Lucky me.
I snagged the pop tarts and keys to the house before once again turning my back on my mom for the eighth day in a row, heading outside to go wherever. Just as long as it wasn't here.
"Oh Stanley, you won't be needing those house keys anymore, they're being turned over this afternoon back to the landlord" She blurted out when she saw the keys in my hand.
I just turned for a moment, looked at the keys in my hand, and looked back up at her as I carelessly tossed them onto the table in front of her.
"Bye mom. I'll be back later."
"Ok, just make sure you have the address of the new place. We'll be there by tonight, once the movers pack up the rest of this stuff."
"Ok."
And with that, I left the house, taking to the streets of South Park.
I walked a couple blocks so far, on my way to Stark's pond. I always hang out there now on my own to just think. It's all I've really done for the past week, ever since my parents got divorced. I occasionally brought some booze there that I got off my friend Kenny McCormick. He thought I was just having some fun at first, but when I asked for more and more of the stuff, I guess he thought something was up so he cut me off. We haven't really crossed paths in a while, like a week or so. I passed so many places in town and flashbacks of all the things I've done just came to me nonstop. All the adventures, the heartbreaks, the laughs, everything just swallowed me up all at once and I was able to manage a small smile. I ask myself if these flashbacks are starting to become my only source of happiness, an unrivaled high. I feel more loved by myself right now than I do by my own mom and dad. If nothing else is fucked up, that is.
I finally reached the pond, assuming my usual spot on a log that sat directly in front of the lake facing in the direction in which the sun sets. I jammed my hands in my pockets, and caught the icy breeze on my face as I looked to the sky. How it could be so blue, I wondered. I looked into the pond in front of me, eying my reflection, ever so still with the calmness of the water. The sight of myself only made me feel worse, somehow. As if even my own shadow has turned against me. Regardless, I kept watch over it for a while, just thinking to myself, as I always do these days. I've been out of school to help move my own parents out and away from each other, and still haven't gone back after two weeks.
They called it an extended leave of absence due to family conflict, yeah. How god-damn accurate. I threw a stone into the water, watching it plunge through my face and create a ripple effect that made the rest of me unrecognizable. Once again, regardless, I stared, eyes hanging halfway closed.
That's when I heard something behind me. For me, it's hard to believe. It seemed like everything lately has just kept me away from the outside world. It was me, myself and I. And much to my own surprise, I don't even look. I could give a shit who it was, and I hated how that is what I felt.
"…Stan?" the voice questioned.
It was at this point where I recognized the voice, but only turned a little bit to confirm my suspicions. Kyle.
"Stan? What are you doing out here? It's freezing!" He said, walking closer. Little does he know that I really could care less if it was cold; I felt colder in my empty shell of a house that I used to call home. I just realized that I haven't replied nor even really looked at Kyle yet. Knowing this and not wanting to dis him, I turn and give him a welcoming smile, or at least whatever smile I could manage, which obviously wasn't very convincing since the look on Kyle's face screamed that he knew there was something wrong. Oh Kyle, always the perceptive one.
Without another word coming from his mouth, Kyle walked the rest of the way to me, and stood diagonally in front of me, giving me this concerned look that he always gives.
"Hey Kyle." I say, looking up to meet his gaze.
"…Hey Stan," Kyle said, "mind if I sit?"
I just moved over a bit, signaling that I didn't mind at all. He sat and stared into the water with me for a bit. After a moment, he decided to break the silence.
"So everyone's missed you at school." Kyle said. I just kept looking forward, not making any kind of comment. Just a twitch of my lips to show that I acknowledged his statement.
I could feel him still looking at me, silently trying to grab my attention. It was so quiet outside, right here, in this moment. It felt intoxicating. He broke the stare and looked down toward the ground, probably thinking of something else to say.
"I've missed you." He said finally.
I looked to him, watching him stare at the ground, then bring his eyes back to meet mine. God I missed those eyes. Kyle always had brilliant ones. Comforting ones. Eyes that even though I didn't want to admit it, I really needed them right now.
"Thanks." I said in a hushed, choked tone. A few moments passed again before I spoke up.
"Kyle, I'm sorry that I haven't been there, you know, with you or the rest of the guys."
"Don't be sorry dude, we all understand." He returned. "It's just that…well, I've been worried for my best friend." He finished.
That brought a glimpse of light to my heart. A warmth that I haven't felt in what seemed like an eternity. I let a smile slowly spread for a moment, which resulted in Kyle spreading one of his own.
"I'm tired, Kyle…" I choked out. "I'm so tired…" I looked back out at the pond, staring back into that unforgiving reflection again, feeling my eyes start to water when I felt a hand on my shoulder. "I know, Stan…I know."
I shut my eyes tight, fighting back the tears I knew were on their way, but failing as I let one slip out and let it run down my cheek. I lightly brushed his hand off my shoulder, which earned me a small, miniscule gasp from him.
"No Kyle, you don't know," I said, "and every day I pray to God that you'll never know." I weakly choked out that last part. I could feel Kyle's sorry gaze pierce through me as he sits next to me. I can't make eye contact, it's too painful.
"Stan…please talk to me. It'll make you feel better," he paused when he saw me shake my head, "even if it's just a little."
"And how are you going to do that!?" I started yelling when I brought my eyes back to his now slightly frightened ones. The fact that I'm probably scaring him makes me feel worse but I can't control it. I just hope I don't scare him away.
"All my life," I continued, "I was happy, with a happy family, and now…" I bury my face into my hands and continue to sob. "And now…now all I can do is think that if I had just taken the God damn time to do something about my parents fighting-"
Kyle put a hand on my back. "Stan, there's nothing you could've done. Please don't blame yourself for it."
"How can I not?" I release my face for a moment. "Please, Kyle! I would fucking love to know! All they ever argue about is me, I'm the problem. I've always been the problem!"
Kyle's expression is nothing short of heartbroken.
"Sometimes I think that they'd be better off if I was just dead." Stan let out in defeat, succumbing to his emotions.
"Stan." Kyle said. I looked over to him and he nestled my head into his two hands, locking me into his gaze. I lost all train of thought and could only look into his eyes. They made me think of how lost I really am. Made me reflect on my decisions and my sorrow and realize what a fool I've been all this time. His eyes had brought me back to reality with just one look, and only Kyle could do that.
"You are loved." He continued. "Your parents will always love you. They split up. Because they wanted the best for you." He said, and I struggled. Shaking my head and breaking out.
"If they love me how could they do this to me? How could they do it Kyle? How could they do it?" I sobbed as I threw myself into his chest, and cried to him as his arms held me in, keeping me safe from the world.
"Shhhh…" Kyle said as he nestled his head on top of mine, which was still huddled in his chest.
"Stan, it's ok…I'm here…it's ok…" Kyle consoled and cried a bit with me, and it really did make me feel so safe, more than he could possibly imagine. We stayed like that for a while, and I settled down, just lying there in his arms.
"No matter what happens…" Kyle said, "No matter what." I looked up at him. "I will stay with you…always."
And just like that, I felt the first genuine smile I've had in weeks. "Thank you Kyle…" I hushed and looked up to him, noticing the tears that also stained his delicate face.
"For everything."
He simply smiled back at me. A comforting smile that said that everything will be alright. For a moment, I felt that I could stay like that forever.
Thanks for reading guys! So it's 1:30 AM, I think I'm gonna go to bed. Hope to hear back from you guys in the reviews, and I'll seeya next time! Peace.
~Blackbird