A/N: I know I'm not done with my other story and I'll update as soon as I can, but in the meantime, please review this! Thanks.
Kyle's Mom Is Still A Bitch (In case you haven't figured that out. :p)
ONE SHOT
"I said no, Kyle. I mean it. Now I don't want to hear another word on it!"
My mother's face was turning redder by the second. She looked like her head was about to explode and at this point, I wished it would. I hate her so much, I don't know why I just don't run away. Or kill myself. Either one would be good. Even after all these years, you'd think she'd lighten up by now. But no. She's still the same old bitch she's always been. I hate to admit it and I won't to anyone else, but Cartman had been right all this time. My mom is the biggest bitch in the whole wide world.
It doesn't matter that I'm nearly 17 and finishing up my last year in high school. It doesn't matter that I've got my driver's license and can finally have some freedom. She always finds a way to destroy my happiness. The very first day I received that precious eliminated card, the first thing my mother said to me was and I quote: "Kyle, your brother needs a ride to the library so he can educate himself on the finer things in life." I'd felt like smarting off to her and telling her to drive Ike herself but I had held my tongue.
I'm surprised my mom let my dad get me a car last year for my 16th birthday. She probably only agreed because in her eyes, it was the perfect opportunity for me to cart my 12 year old bratty brother around so she wouldn't have to. I don't mind giving him rides here and there, but I didn't get my license just to cater to Ike's every whim.
Right now, as I stared at her with detestful eyes, I couldn't imagine how my dad ever fell in love with this mean hag. What the fuck had he seen in her? What possessed him to marry her? How could he put up with such bullshit?
I'm sure when I was born, she didn't throw me around like a rag doll. She probably cooed and cuddled me and told me how much she loved me. Sometimes I wished she would do just that. Sometimes I long for her to put her arms around me and hear her say she loves me. At least then I'll know she has some sort of feelings. But it will be a cold day in hell before that ever happens.
I balled my hands into fists of defiance. Who was she to tell me where I could and could not go? Not being able to go on my senior class trip was the last straw. All my friends would be going and I was gonna be left out in the cold. I would be the only one not participating in the one last hurrah before the start of summer. I'd probably never see any of these kids again. Not unless we happened to end up at the same college, which was a possibility. I really wanted to go. Tears of frustration welled in the corners of my eyes.
"You know what! I hate you. I hate you!!" I screamed. I was stunned. I had no idea where that came from. I knew I was in big trouble, too.
My mother's eyes widened in shock. "Young man, you do not take that tone with me, you hear?" She advanced towards me and grabbed my arm, but I violently shook her off.
"Don't touch me!" I yelled.
"Kyle. Stop this. I will not have all this shouting." She went for my arm again and this time, was able to get a firm grip on it, almost causing me to cry out in pain.
"If you're allowed to, then so am I." I said boldly. My head reeled back as the slap came. It took a second for the sting of pain to register but when it did, it came full force. It was more like she'd hit me. We both stared at each other in astonishment, me more so than her.
She finally let go of my arm, sill not believing that she'd actually cause me physical harm. She'd never hit me before. Why was she starting now? I backed away, holding my hand to my face. It was really starting to hurt. Bad. The tears spilled over; streaming down my swollen cheek.
"Kyle, I-I'm sor-sorry." My mom stuttered. I shook my head. "Don't apologize, mother. You've done enough damage already." With that, I grabbed my coat and sprinted out the door, ignoring my mother's pleas for me to come back. I didn't look back once. God. There was no God.
I knew there was always one person who could make me feel better. One person who could always take my pain away. My best friend, Stan Marsh. Still holding my hand to my cheek and carefully feeling the swollenness, I started running towards his house.
Stan answered the door and gasped when he saw my distressed state. "Kyle. My god. What happened to you?" He pulled me inside and closed the door. He stared at my left side, in awe at what kind of damage my mother had done. "Dude, your eye is starting to swell. It's all black and blue. Who did this to you?"
I couldn't speak. I felt myself choking even as I did. "My – my moth- mother." My voice cracked. Stan's jaw dropped open. "Your mom?" He was even more surprised than I had been. I nodded. "We should put some ice on that." He went into the kitchen and started scooping some ice into a plastic bag. I smiled gratefully at him as I accepted the homemade ice pack. I ever so gently placed it on my bruised eye and winced at the severe coldness.
We sat down at the kitchen table in companionable silence. "I can't go on the class trip." I finally stated. Stan stared at me. "What? Why? No. Don't tell me. Your mom, right?"
I nodded sheepishly. Stan became angry as he stood up and reached for the phone. "Stan, what are you doing?" I asked in alarm.
"I'm calling your mom. She can't do this. Everyone's gonna go. You can't miss out on the best time ever. It's Paris, dude. Paris." I jumped up and swatted at his arm. "Please don't. You'll – you'll just make it worse." My eyes pleaded with him.
"But Kyle. It'll be no fun without you there." Stan moaned. "I was counting on you helping me get revenge on Cartman's fat ass for stealing my idea for that history project." I grinned, remembering that little incident. The grin slowly faded as the pain started to get worse.
I bit my lip to keep from crying. Stan saw how upset I was and finally put the phone down. Without a word, he took me in his arms and just held me. I hugged him back awkwardly with one hand, the other still occupied with the ice pack. He was such a good friend, wanting to iron out my pain and misery.
My shoulders shook as I allowed myself to sob. "I hate her so much, Stan. She screws my life up so much, I don't even have to do any work in that department. She does fine all on her own." The bitter and harsh words came tumbling out as I spilled my heart out.
"I wished she would curl up and die. I hate her. I hate her!" The tears came faster, dripping down onto Stan's shirt and soaking it wet, but I didn't care.
Stan pulled away so he could look at me. "At least you know someone who doesn't hate you. They love you very much." He said softly. "Oh yeah? Who? Cartman?" I joked.
"No. Me."
My eyes widened in surprise. They widened even more as Stan's lips gently met mine in a tender kiss. Even though I felt ridiculous still holding onto that cold ass ice pack, I didn't feel so ridiculous inside; in fact, I felt downright warm and fuzzy. Something strange was happening here, something I didn't fully understand but I knew I didn't want it to stop.
I started kissing him back hesitantly, not really sure where all this was headed. When we parted, we were both breathing heavily. "Stan, are you this is what you want?" I asked. I stared at him. He just nodded
"I've never been so sure about anything in my life." He held me close, gently rubbing my back in small circles. "My mom will definitely have a shit fit over this." I cringed inside, just knowing how she'd react.
"Forget her. Just focus on us. Instead of going on that trip, I'll stay here and keep you company. We can have our own fun." Stan smiled. I had a hard time keeping my composure as I snuggled against him. My best friend. And now my...boyfriend? I didn't deserve a guy like him. Stan Marsh. I told myself I was incredibly lucky to have someone like him in my life.
I knew we'd have a lot to talk about later, but for now, I just enjoyed the feel of Stan's arms around me and his moist, warm lips on mine.
THE END