Stan used to love rainy days. He used to like to be in the house all day, cozied up on the couch, or lying down in bed, hearing the pitter patter of the rain drops hit the window or the roof of the house.
Today was a rainy day. Today was Saturday. Stan had woken up to the once soothing sound of rain, along with the smell. It had only been a week since...that incident, and rain was already here. Stan liked to imagine that he was with Stan, sitting with him on his bed talking, or playing video games with Stan. Stan could only imagine that those scenarios were happening.
Reluctantly, and sadly, Stan exited his bed and got dressed with his normal winter attire, and added on a raincoat. He went downstairs, and all talking between his family disappeared.
"H-hey turd." Shelly greeted with a stutter in the beginning. She never stuttered. Stan took a seat at the table and quietly ate his waffles. He could sense his parents' eyes on him. He could sense the uneasiness oozing out of them. Not a word was exchanged between any of the family members. Sharon tentatively reached an arm out and rubbed her son's back, to which he tensed up and gently pushed her arm away. He silently got up from the table and retrieved an umbrella, then stepped outside.
"I hope he'll be all right." Sharon whispered to her husband. Randy nodded back in agreement.
He walked down the street, watching the cars zoom by in the early morning. Not many people were outside in the rain, only cars. Stan kept walking to his destination, ignoring Kenny, who was waving to him from his lawn.
He continued until he came to an eerie place. He was all alone here, and the rain came down harder than usual. He tilted his head up and shut his eyes, still letting a few tears escape his eyes. He wiped them off and took a shuddery breath, then put the umbrella back up as he searched for one particular stone.
Stan walked around for a while, until he finally found it. He crouched down, hearing his shoes squelch in the mud and the rain softly land on the grass. He looked over the large stone and felt hot tears brimming up in his eyes again. This time, he let them spill as he hugged the stone. He only whimpered as he held the rock in his embrace. The rain rained down on Stan, who continued to hug the rock. He must've looked a bit insane, hugging a rock like that in a rain, but he didn't really care.
Of all the people to die in the world, why him? Why did he have to die? It wasn't fair. He had died on a rainy day like this one, which made him think of that one fated day.
No, he refused to remember that. Instead, he willed himself to think of all the happy times he had with his friend, which just made him cry harder as he clutched the rock. He released it after a short while, and leaned against him.
"Stan?" A voice called. Stan jumped, wondering if the dead was communicating with him for a second, until that familiar orange parka came into sight. "What are you doing?"
Stan wiped away any stray tear droplets that had remained on his face. "Nothing." His voice cracked. Stan noticed that Kenny had a concerned look in his eyes.
"Hugging a boulder and crying doesn't really count as nothing, am I right?" Kenny asked, attempting to bring a little humor into the situation. Stan couldn't say anything as Kenny came a little closer, and sat down beside him by the rock.
"Is this about...?" Kenny inquired. Stan nodded, and Kenny frowned, then slung an arm around him. "I'll tell him that you miss him next time I see him, okay?" Kenny asked. Stan rolled his eyes at Kenny's weirdness, but finally responded to Kenny's touch by leaning his head on Kenny's shoulder.
"It'll be okay." Kenny comforted. He watched as Stan's face unraveled into what could only be defined as sadness.
"No it won't," Stan said softly and looked down. Kenny hugged Stan closer to him, mostly for warmth because his parka was not much protection against both the cold weather and the rain. Kenny leaned over Stan and grabbed the umbrella, then propped it up against the gravestone that the both of them were leaning on. Stan sighed and held back tears that were threatening to spill. He was not about to cry in front of Kenny.
"I don't care Stan," Kenny said.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't care if you cry. It's natural I guess." Kenny told him. Stan continued to stare down at the ground.
Minutes later, he found himself losing it while burrowed into Kenny's parka, complaining that it wasn't fair.
"I know dude." Kenny said sadly. Stan hated when he got like this. Clyde had no shame in crying and shit, but Stan did. He stood up and turned away from the blonde.
"Sorry." Stan muttered and started to walk back to his house. He heard Kenny sigh in the background and stand up.
"See you around I guess." Kenny told him and trudged off in the other direction. Stan watched his figure retreat before shoving his hands in his jacket pockets.
When he entered the house, nobody seemed to be home. Shelly was probably with her friend, while his parents probably left for work.
He took a seat on the couch, and almost started to dial Kyle's number, but then hastily put it down. He wished that he was still here.
Stan turned on the television and squished himself into the couch. The rain kept coming down, and it reminded him of the day Kyle gave up on life. He switched the channel to Family Guy. It wasn't a good show in his eyes, but it was always a favorite of Kyle's.
He looked out the window, watching all the rain come down and land on his window. If only he could enjoy it. If only he motivated him. If only he gave Kyle hope.
If only he was here.
