When I wake up I'm afraid, somebody else might take my place
The feeling of a blade against my skin, it is just so awakening. It makes me feel a thousand emotions at once, it's painful, it's calming, it's relaxing, but most of all, it makes me feel alive. As the blade of my knife goes into my skin I suddenly feel this rush, it takes me out of reality for just a little while. I love watching the scarlet red blood bubbling out of the thin cuts, sometimes I like to take my finger and smudge it against my skin. It gives me a sick thrill.
I once had it all, a girlfriend, a loving family, a group of best friends, decent grades, and the greatest super best friend you can ever imagine. So how did I get here? Alone, sitting in a run-down mouldy bathroom cutting myself with the same pocketknife I've had since I was 9? How does someone who once had it all end up being here? The answer is never direct, and it never is just one thing. It's always a build-up of different events.
I guess it all started in grade 6, the year my parents divorced. My Dad and Mom never got along, and the fighting became a usual occurrence in my home. After all, they have divorced before just two years earlier. Things were great for a brief amount of time, but then it just got worse. I remember one night; I was sitting in my bedroom, at my desk. I was studying for some science test the next day when I heard screaming downstairs. To zone out the screams, I always put on my iPod and played my music really loud until it stopped. However, that day I didn't even bother. I studied the water cycle in silence and muttered to myself "god damn it." Suddenly I heard a slam of the door; it was so loud it made my room shake a bit. Caught off guard by it, I ran downstairs to see my Dad alone. Standing there in absolute shock, mouth slightly open, and his brown eyes filled with hurt. "Dad, what the hell is going on?" I questioned him feeling a bit frustrated.
"Stan, grab me a beer," was his only response.
A few months later my parents did divorce, and this time it was here to stay. There was no way in hell they were going to go back together. Perhaps it was for the best for them, but for Shelley and me, we got fucked over. Mom decided that she wanted to move out of South Park forever and decided to move to California where she can start over. Of course she wanted Shelley and me to come with her because she didn't trust Dad to take care of us. Shelley took up the offer, but I decided to stay back home. I had my friends here; my girlfriend here, everything I've ever known took place in this town. I just couldn't leave it all behind, so I declined.
My family is now split in two, I never see Mom anymore. Just for a week in the summer I go over to visit her, and Shelley only comes here for a week during the same season. Whenever I see Mom in California, I always feel sick to my stomach. Her life is so good now, she has a new boyfriend, she has an amazing career and home…I have never seen her happier. Meanwhile Dad is absolutely miserable. He's become even more of an alcoholic than ever before and I've watched him experiment with drugs. We had to move out of the old home and now live in a tiny dirty as fuck apartment. I take care of myself because I never really know where Dad is.
You're too mean, I don't like you, fuck you anyway
Next to go was Wendy, when we graduated grade 8 she decided to end things. She filled me up with lame lies saying that she wanted to start over for high school and didn't want to be tied down. She's a total bitch now, so fuck her anyways. She walks around the school with her "popular" clique thinking they are the greatest thing since the internet. She trashes all of her friends behind her back and is extremely two faced. I've heard rumours that she is a total slut now, but I'm not one to believe rumours. However, one time I entered a stairwell to catch a glimpse of her making out with Clyde though she was just holding hands with Token earlier that day. Both of their faces hiding behind her long black hair, him holding her perfect legs as she wrapped them around his waist…the sight of it made me sick, I threw up in the bathroom afterwards. I still loved her, and there she was making out with every boy in sight. So yeah…fuck her anyways…
After those events came the death of my small clique. Cartman was actually the first to go; his Mother grew tired of South Park and all the men in it. She fucked everyone she could and wanted to start over somewhere new, so she chose to move away. It was the first semester of grade 9, the first week of December. I remember standing on Cartman's front lawn with Kyle, Kenny and Butters as his Mother was grabbing the last few items and putting it in her car. We didn't really say much that day, Butters was crying, Kenny was taking drags of his cigarette and Kyle and I stood there in watch. We both were filled with shock that this was actually happening. Our childhood was over, everything was changing before us. The days of our crazy adventures were over.
"I always wanted him to move, I always hated him. Now that it's here, I just want him to stay." Kyle whispered to me and I glanced over at him. His lip was trembling and I could see tears welling up in his green eyes.
"It's okay Kyle, you still have me, and you always will." I said to him with a brave smile, though in reality I wanted to go home and cry for the loss of an entire era.
Cartman went up to us in his last few moments in South Park. He never changed all these years. Last I saw him he was still fat, wore a red coat, had chocolate brown eyes and wore a blue and yellow hat. He was the still the anti-sematic douchebag I had come to love after all this time. "I'll always hate you guys, but I'll never forget you guys." was the only thing Cartman said, gave us the Nazi salute and walked away to his Mother's car. We never heard from him after that.
Following Cartman, not surprisingly Kenny left next. He slowly started to spend less time with us, and more time with his partier friends. Eventually he just left us behind. He's thrown his life away now, he skips class almost every day to go smoke weed. He sneaks out of his house to party and sleeps on park benches. He's failed almost every class he's attended. He had a fling with Bebe for a while, and I know for a fact they went all the way at a party. He's had a few other girlfriends now, all of which have gotten the guy laid.
Following the loss of Kenny, the tensions in our group started to rise. Kyle and I started to bicker a lot more than usual. That made Butters leave; the little sensitive guy couldn't take the conflict.
When I wake up I'm afraid, somebody else might take my place
Kyle has been hanging with Bradley a lot lately. The two of them hang out outside of school, and I have caught them hanging out on days when Kyle's told me he's sick. The same lame excuse he used last time he wanted to ditch me.
Over time, I couldn't take it anymore. I hated Bradley; I hated him for trying to steal my best friend away. I couldn't believe Kyle would want to ditch his childhood friend behind like that. I was hurt, incredibly hurt.
"Stan, why are you so pissy all the time?" Kyle asked me during lunch. We were at the bench, and the conversation was very one-sided. I was being very spacey as Kyle talked constantly about how much fun he and Bradley had during lunch.
"I don't know. Think about it." I replied back sarcastically and cracked the lid open of my water bottle. I couldn't believe he did not know already, considering I had been doing such for quite some time.
"Are you jealous of Bradley?" Kyle said in a disgusted tone giving me, glaring at me through his green eyes.
"Jealous? Why the fuck would I be jealous? You're fucking ditching me."
"I'm not fucking ditching you. I'm allowed to have other friends besides you."
"You're supposed to be my best friend."
"You're being a self centered asshole."
The argument went on for a long time after that, we ended up skipping the next period of school because things were so heated. I remember standing across from him, my face burning hot from being so upset, eyes watering from tears from the words being said, and feeling the urge to run away. Finally, Kyle had enough.
"I'm done. I'm fucking done with you Stan. Fuck off, and never fucking talk to me again."
He ran off after that leaving me behind. I watched him head towards the school, a blur of orange and green through my teary eyes. He was gone. He hated me. I fucked up everything.
That was earlier today, and now here I am sitting in my bathroom, with nothing left in this world to live for. Having enough of cutting, I walk downstairs zombie-like into the kitchen. I grab my Father's vodka bottle and pour myself my first glass.
That was by far, probably one of the worst stories I have ever written. I wrote it in one sitting though, so I'll take it as is. Hope you enjoyed it a bit and please be kind if you have anything to say.