Stan
"Hello everybody, uh, my name is Stan," I said at just above a whisper. Why was I worried? I was worried because I was about to tell my secrets to a room full of my friends. I was worried that they would judge me.
"Hello, Stan," the chanted. I closed my eyes and began to speak.
"My name is Stan Marsh, and my father is an assh-alcoholic, and I'm worried I will become one. My parents have a rocky relationship, and I have an overly violent sister," I started to tell my story.
Randy Marsh, a man in his late forties, pulls the door open and tumbles in. He walks in an uneven pattern.
"Dad, are you drunk?" his son asks.
"No, Stan. Can you get me a beer?"
"No, Dad. Mom is coming to pick me and Shelly up for the week. It's eight in the morning,Jesus. You can't drink right now. Just because I don't have school doesn't mean you don't have work."
"Stan, I'm the parent here. You don't need to assume the responsibilities that belong to me. I'm doing great here. You just think that you would be a better parent, is that it? You think that I am still a child, is that it, Sharon?"
The boy sighs,"I'm Stan, Dad. If you are worried that I can take care of myself, then own up. Stop getting drunk. You can't drink your worries away." Randy smacks Stan across the face. Stan is shocked. His father hit him! Randy quickly apologizes, and hits again. This time, he aims for the gut. Another hit. Stan doesn't fight back. He has learned several things from his fights with Shelly. He looked at his watch, noting that his mother should have been here five minutes ago.
He glances towards the door, and sees his sister crying. Shelly? Crying?
"Daddy! Stop it!" She says.
Stan's eyes plead for help. She is bruised too. She calls her mom, who doesn't answer. Randy trudges into his room, and falls on the bed, exhausted. Their mom opens the door. She is with Tom, from her office, giggling. She sees the marks, and worriedly tells Shelly and Stan to stop fighting. She knew what was going on. She didn't help.
Three months of this. Three months, until Sharon finally put Randy in rehab. Three months of weekends spent at friends houses, away from Randy. He's better now. No jail time or anything. He still gets angry, but he doesn't have that much alcohol. The worst part is, he doesn't even remember it.
At the end, I was sobbing. It felt good to finally get it out. I told everyone not to hate my dad. He made up for it. The last thing I needed was him in jail. I looked up. It wasn't just me crying. The whole room at least has watering eyes. I had more secrets, things about love, who I love, about Kyle, but I was crying too hard. When I finally calmed down, Mr. Mackey spoke up.
"I admire your honesty, Stan, m'kay? Now who wants to go next?"
That's when Kenny volunteered.
A/N: I feel genuinely sad at this. Who's with me? Please Review!