Stan's POV
Who would miss me?
If I killed myself, removed my lifeless soul from this body, who would truly give a crap? With my fingers spinning around the trigger of my tiny gun that I had kept hidden in my drawer for so long, I pondered on these irritable thoughts. Would anyone really care if Stan Marsh decided to leave South Park forever?
I had lived in sadness for a while now, trying to act sane & keep my calm. Kyle's been there for me, as a good friend would be, & I'm thankful for that. But I couldn't take it anymore. Cartman's constant, horrendous teasing, the jeers from nearly everyone in school, the punches that sometimes slammed my face from people that I had once considered friends. It was…to say the least, overwhelming.
Not to mention that everyone besides Kyle had completely ditched me. I should probably leave him a letter, saying that this wasn't his fault at all, but I knew that if I took up that much time I would change my mind, & I couldn't afford anymore of this worthlessness. I was a walking downer, no one wanted me around anyway. Shelly would probably be glad to see that I would no longer be around, though, if anything, she might be a bit sad that she couldn't torture me anymore. I would be free from that as well.
Who would miss me then when I was gone? Kyle, my mom & dad? Would that really be it? No one else would care, they might look at my picture in the yearbook & write some sappy 'RIP' shit on my picture, but they wouldn't really care. It was kinda sad actually.
I slowly moved the gun so that it pointed straight into my mouth. & with one last thought of, who's gonna miss me now? I pulled on the trigger, unconscious before the sound of the bullet even reached my ears.