Hello again!
I'm really sorry I haven't been updating, but I've been busy with school and haven't found time.
The plot bunnies have been multiplying, however, and this one grew fangs and threatened to kill me if I didn't write it.
Disclaimer: (I'm only doing this once, Goddamn it!) If I owned South Park, do you really think I would be writing about it?
The rain poured down on the small town of South Park, Colorado. The town she had grown up in. The town she had gotten married in four years earlier and the town her marriage had been destroyed in only an hour ago.
She couldn't believe him. A teenager. He had knocked up some 16-year-old redhead two months ago. It must have been around her birthday, the bastard.
"No good hick town…" she mumbled to herself as she gazed at the old wooden sign she was parked in front of, its black paint chipping off, making it look like it said "South Fark".
Her hands curled around the steering wheel as she looked over her shoulder at the small sleeping form of her 3-year-old daughter, who was completely oblivious to her mother's plan of escape. She hadn't even woken up when she had been carried out to the car.
There hadn't been any yelling, she hadn't gotten upset. She just got the baby and left him sitting at the dining room table. She supposed this was because she had always known he had been cheating on her, she just never really believed her suspicions enough to confront him.
She put the car in drive and pulled away from the slowly decaying sign. As she passed it and drove out of the small mountain town, she glanced back at her daughter in the rear-view mirror.
"We'll be fine on our own, Andrea. We'll be just fine."
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