Authors Note: Some parts/conversations are taken directly from my Real Life. I can't help myself with that…I feel like I really put a piece of myself in these stories...Please don't Flame…the feelings that Stan feel in this story, are very much real to mine...the confusion, questions and expressions…

Very soft…but edgy at the same time, and still deciding if there will be a made-up sex scene.

I DO not own South Park.

Fragile, Broken and Abandoned. That's how Wendy left me, for another guy at some Beer drinking, pot smoking party. She was there for me when no one else was, held me when I cried, and made me laugh till I was out of breath.

She was my world, But now…

The world means nothing…

I mean nothing…

And she means nothing…

I slipped on my black skinny leg jeans, and any black tee shirt I could find that didn't reek of my body odor, glancing in my vanity mirror, and reaching for the hairspray, styling my jet black hair, letting it hang loose over one side of my face, and teasing the rest up slightly. My hair was like my security blanket, if I couldn't see others from under it, then they couldn't see me. I set my hair product down and looked at the boy in the mirror.

Lifeless cold blue eyes starred back at me, and I quickly grabbed my eyeliner and smeared it under my eyes and across the top lids. It was my favorite part of getting ready, my eyeliner changed my whole face…I was Raven. I don't give a fuck about anyone and they in return, don't give a fuck about me.

I like this look, it went with my apathetic attitude and screamed "I don't give a fuck" I feel stronger as raven more than I did as Stan…Stan let people in too easily, like Wendy…and look how great that turned out. While I Raven, can protect myself, my physical appearance warns others off, I don't have to pretend or be liked…I'm alone, and I want it to stay that way.

Kyle and Kenny had given up trying to help me out of my misery, must I must tell you, I'm quite happy wallowing in it; I'm very content like this. Strangely enough the fatass hasn't said a word about it…fucken prick doesn't understand any kind of emotion or pain anyway…he always did, and still does, always get what he wants…I'm jealous of that to be perfectly honest.

I grab my bag, heading for the shit hole I call school, taking my usual spot at the back of the bus…where only the fat ass sits, since everyone else shits their pants when they go near him, due to his quick temper.

"Aye faggot, I didn't say you could sit here" He shoots me a look, while I casually flip him off and sit my black denim covered ass down on the plastic bus seat. He huffs and folds his arms, knowing he won't get any fight from me. He bends down, undoing his blue backpack and pulling out a small glass bottle before tossing it to me, a black nail polish bottle lands in my lap and I raise a dark eyebrow.

"What's this for?" I question, undoing it and coating my nails lazily with the black liquid, trying to hide my curiosity and dare I say, a smile.

But, as expected, Cartman does nothing more than merely shrug. I feel his chocolate brown orbs linger over my slim figure a little longer than needed, which I don't question, and my cold eyes glance to where his soft fingers tap against his knee, like he's waiting impatiently for something to happen.

His eyes flicker to the window watching the passing houses and cars through the dirty glass, until the bus pulls up to our school, and we both wait till everyone is done pushing, shoving and ramming each other over to get out. I glance back at him, and notice he's waiting for me to get up, so I quickly grab my small backpack and lead him out; unaware that Cartman was watching my ass the entire time getting out of our means of transport.

I pause looking around for somewhere to sit before class starts, but the bell rings. I look over to Cartman who is adjusting his straps on his backpack, and I try not to laugh at my personal joke how he's probably getting fatter.

"Walk with me to class Stan?" He looks up, deep brown eyes full of sincerity and a small hint of hope. I can't help but be a little taken back. Sure, he makes the small side comments and jokes about me, and I do the same back, but this side of him? I've never seen before, and I was a little scared…No words came outta my mouth, no heartless cruel comebacks. I just stood there like an idiot and nodded, completely and utterly dumb stricken.

He actually half smiled, and waited till I was by his side before we started moving off to class together. I felt strange. How could one simply non queer question have me thinking of a million and one questions? Calm Down...I told myself…It's just Cartman.

The walk was actually…nice, he asked me about school and how my project was going for wood-work, and made not a single joke about Me, Wendy or even Kyle. Once we reached the woodwork room, the teachers let us in and told us to get started.

I placed my bag on the ground and disappeared into the spare room, collecting my half completed work. I was making a coffee table with a chessboard theme for the top of it. Lame? Well kinda, but the teacher didn't seem to care.

I threw on my black apron and goggles and set off to start cutting new wood pieces on the schools Band Saw, I switched it on, and the thing roared to life, the saw going up and down rapidly. I placed my wood on it and started sawing the pieces I needed, putting full concentration into what I was doing, as there was no way in hell I could afford to start over again.

Now I knew Cartman had to be working in the sewing room, because the momma's boy was making a new dress for his Mother. "Modest" he told the other students when they started laughing at him for his faggy idea. But I kept my opinions to myself; I didn't really care what he made anyway.

So when he came into the woodwork room to visit me, I was a little more than surprised.

"Don't cut your fingers like you did last time" He commented while I was halfway through the cutting on the machine. I rolled my eyes muffling out an "I won't" through my dust mask, while he stood there silently watching. It was true, I had accidently cut my fingers on this machine, because I wasn't watching it close enough. I raced to the sink, blood dripping everywhere from my pinky, and Cartman actually sprinted to get the teacher, and then the nurse had told me I was lucky…because any further and the blade would have cut into my bone. The whole thing was very amusing to me, and I only got "WTF" looks from other students when I was laughing about it. It honestly didn't hurt.

And so ok, I think I can say that I'm not the type of person who gets pissed off with others easily, I have patience…but this new Cartman was starting to bother me, we're not even 15 minutes into a school day and already he has given me nail polish, walked me to class and now caring about my fingers? What the Hell Cartman!

Every day feels the same, and now it's only become worse because I'm taunted by Eric, and he doesn't even realize what he does to me. Yes...I have come to the earth shattering conclusion that I seem to be developing a sickening crush on the fatass. it must of been sometime during the black nail polish gift, asking me to walk with him or watching to make sure I don't saw my fingers off that I realized I actually like his "personality"

I never considered myself to be gay or bi...but then again, I've only liked one girl my whole life...I didn't want to think about actually liking another dude. Let alone it be Cartman...then again...ignore my thoughts and they'll go away right?

Wrong...
Fuck...I'm so whipped...I thought as I got home, pinching the bridge of my nose, and ignoring my parents and Shelly, as I made my way to my room and locked the door.

Aren't I a lovely picture perfect child?

Changing from my outfit into something more comfy, an old pair or black track pants and a grey wife beater.

I pulled out my laptop, sitting on the floor and stretching out, resting my computer on my legs, and booting up MSN. The name "Raven" appeared and then all my contacts, mostly from school showed up. I lazily glanced at the people online, and felt my stomach twist a little when I saw the nickname "mel_gibson" show as "online".

He's hardly ever on...I thought to myself as I opened a conversation with him. An automatic click if my fingers without really thinking of what I would say after my usual greeting "hi"

I was surprised he started talking back immediately. "Hey, what's up?"

I paused, before replying back awkwardly "eh...not a lot...you?" oh Jesus raven...is that the best you got? I let out a soft sigh, waiting while he typed an answer.
"I'm good..."

Another pause went by "you're such a submissive Stan...lol" Wait what? Where did that come from? My face burned red, as I starred at this statement. My fingers glided over my keyboard, stumbling a little as I tried to ask what he meant. "W...what are you talking about fatass?"

"You just agreed to do anything I wanted to today, you accepted the gift, and you followed my like a puppy..."

I clenched my fists, before cutting him off "you ASKED me fatass!" I could almost see Cartmans smug look through the screen, and No matter how hard I tried to be mad, I just couldn't bring it out.

Yep...really fucken whipped."God I just wanna shove you against a wall or some shit tomorrow, lmao" Oh shit...oh shit oh shit oh shit! I tried to compose myself at my computer. I HAD to put on some kind of act before he really thinks he has the upper hand.
"Try it fatass! And ill knock you out"

"shut up Stanly, you'd love it...maybe I'll even tug your hair a little"
MOTHER FUCKER! I felt like if any more blood boiled to my head, that it would explode everywhere...I felt anger, humiliation and...Turned on? Ughh no...NO raven. This is the fatass! I looked down...but apparently my dick had other ideas...ughh I groaned to myself, before quickly typing back..."I gtg, sorry bye"

"to rub one out? Sure...cya tomorrow...raven"

That asshole! I thought as I signed out and shut off my computer, and ran to my bathroom. YES ok to rub one out!

I laid on my bed after relieving myself, slipping on my headphones and turning up AFI on my iPod. But not even the music could relax me...every time I tried, Eric plagued my mind...

He's not even gay raven...don't fall for a stupid joke...your smarter than that...he doesn't mean it. It's his idea of fun. I kept telling myself over and over, but groaned when I realized I didn't want to believe that. Then out of nowhere a shiver went down my spine as I repeated to myself how he wanted to push me and pull my hair.

"Mmm" I moaned a little at the thought, and got another shiver, before I raised my hand and slapped myself across the face. Snap out of it! I lectured myself for the hundredth time that evening.