On the outside, he looks to have a happy life. He has girls flirting with him and hanging off of his arm. He's the star quarter back of his high school's football team and an impressive athlete. He has friends around him. He gets good grades. His parents have money. Yeah, things look great, but looks deceive.
In reality...
He hates sports. He can't stand the sweat and being tackled. He hates getting hurt in the name of victory. But his father loves his reputation as the dad with a football "super star" for a son. He can't bring himself to tell his dad he hates it. He'll keep pretending.
He also doesn't trust his friends, and he certainly knows better than to trust anyone that may call themselves his friends. No, he's not that fucking stupid.
Sure, his parents have money and he gets good grades in school and everybody loves him, but there's one thing he cannot tell anyone.
He's gay.
Ever since his friends laughed at him when he told them about his abuse, he developed a phobia of feeling humiliated and being laughed at. It shocked him to his core.
He has to be perfect. He can't have anything wrong with him. He keeps all of his imperfections and flaws hidden. He started to become selfish, cynical, and most of all, lost any amount dignity he had left.
Stan Marsh has two faces.
The first face is what everyone sees. He puts on the best fake smile he can muster, laughs at dumb jokes, flirts with girls; etc. He plays sports to the best of his ability, despite having a bad back. Ever since his sister, Shelly, broke his back, he has trouble with all the little things such as bending over for too long or picking up large and heavy objects.
He's a good liar anyways, right? He'll lie about his pain too. He plays through the pain.
Well, almost.
"Tch...fuck." Stan uttered, with tears streaming down his cheeks as he drags the razor blade down his thighs. Yeah...this is his true face. This is the face that Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman don't know about. This is the face that shows all of his true pain and suffering.
Those words stung his memory. The words he hears nearly every day by someone he's supposed to call his big sister.
You're pathetic.
You're nobody.
You're going nowhere in life.
Everyone hates you.
You're better off dead.
My life would be easier if you weren't in it.
Stan can't ever forget those words that were burnt into him. He has no proper way of venting and getting his feelings out, so he chose this.
Cutting. It's his addiction. It numbs his pain, even if it's for a little while. If he can't talk to anybody, he'll take the pain out on himself.
Stan sighed and looked down at his scarred legs. He doesn't want people seeing his cuts, so he cuts his legs instead since it's easier to hide. He has cut his arms a few times, but his mom noticed.
His parents know more than everyone on the outside do. Not because he told them, but because of those cuts on his arms. His mom nearly had a panic attack when she noticed those cuts and rushed him to the hospital. That's when he was diagnosed with chronic depression.
His dad doesn't think there's a problem and insisted his son doesn't take the medication, as it might damage his football performance.
I fucking hate football. He said in his mind. He stood up and wobbled a bit before he grabbed an old hand towel from his hamper. He dabbed the towel on his thighs to pick up most of the blood and pressed it there before he threw the towel in his hamper again. He bent down, wincing at the slight pain that shot up his back due to sitting on the floor for too long, and pulled on his old black and green sweats he got from football back in middle school. He grabbed his old brown over-sized cardigan on his chair and wrapped himself in it before he sat down on his chair. He rubbed at his lower back where the pain was emanating from before he sat back and stared at his computer screen.
His sister has done a lot of horrible things to him in the past, but the one thing that she did that affected him physically for life his break his back.
Shelly always pushed Stan down the stairs. Every time Stan thinks it's safe to go down, he gets pushed. The last time she pushed him down any staircase was the basement stairs.
Stan was horrified of basements when he was younger, so he never wanted to go down alone. His mom had asked Stan to get some cans from the basement, and as Stan hesitated at the top of those steps to go down, he felt a pair of hands press against his back and forcefully pushed him.
The impact broke his spine in several places and he was in the hospital for a whole month. The trauma was so severe, he refuses to walk down a stair case first. He makes sure that everyone has gone first before he descends down them.
Stan scowled at the memory and pulled his knees up to his chest, wincing at the slight pain in his thighs where his cuts were.
His phone lit up just then, and he raised an eye brown. He picked up his phone to look at who had messaged him.
Hey dude. You wanna hang out for a bit? Kenny is feeling upset again and I think we should do something to cheer him up. - Kyle
Stan stared at his phone with a frown. What could be wrong with Kenny this time? It's one of two things.
A. His parents are fighting, or B. He's threatening suicide again.
What's wrong with him? -Stan
Stan dangled his phone in his hand, resting his head on his knees picking at a piece of string that was protruding through the seam of his sweat pants. He jumped a little when he felt his phone vibrate in his hands.
He unlocked the screen and began reading the message.
He's talking about suicide again. -Kyle
"Tch..." Stan scowled and glared at his message. He knew it. He didn't understand how and why Kenny would do that to his friends. Why would he openly say 'yeah I'm suicidal and want to die'? Why would he want his friends to worry about something like that?
Stan is suicidal too, but he'd never ever ever put that on him and Kyle. He's thought about ending his life for 5 years now, and he always resented Kenny's attitude towards this particular topic.
At least Kenny can go to his friends for help. Stan squeezed his eyes shut and went through the scenario in his head. For someone like Stan if he were to come out about suicide, he'd hear this remark a lot.
"There are people who have it a lot worse than you." And that's how it ends. At least, that's that he thinks. It doesn't matter. He doesn't want to take that chance.
Okay. I'll be over in a minute then. Your house or his? -Stan
My house. Craig is coming over too, so don't start fighting with him. -Kyle
"Craig?" Stan mumbled to himself. What the fuck? He knows Craig and Kenny sorta have a thing, but he didn't expect Craig to actually go to Kyle's house.
Then again, he hasn't spoken to Craig since about the seventh grade when they sat next to each other in History.
Why the fuck would I fight with him? I haven't spoken to him in 5 years. Whatever, I'll be there in 10. -Stan
Stan set down his phone, and changed into his semi-too big skinny jeans. He doesn't normally wear outside around his friends since he has a jock image to uphold, but he didn't care. He didn't even bother to take off his cardigan to put on his letterman. He hated that fucking ugly thing anyways.
He slipped on his converse and grabbed his car keys and wallet before he entered the hallway. He softly shut the door behind him and looked around for Shelly.
He stepped quietly down the hall before he panicked and noticed his sister's bedroom door was open. He had to walk past her without her seeing him.
He tiptoed quietly to her door and peeked in when he noticed she was sitting at her desk on her laptop with headphones in. He could hear the sound of metal music blaring. Her style changed a lot too. She's a huge delinquent and gets into a lot of trouble. Not only that, but her hair is cut in a weird emo style and she had died her hair black with red streaks. The side of her head is also shaved so she looks even more intimidating. The dark clothes and chains only add on to that scary vibe she has.
Once he stepped passed her room, he booked it down the stairs before she could somehow push down the stairs. Once he hit the front door, he jumped at the sound of his mom's voice.
"Oh Stanley, honey! I washed your hat, do you want it before you go out?" Sharron asked, holding up his signature blue hat with the red poof ball. The ball at the top had worn down a lot and now just lays flat against the top of his head when he does decide to wear it.
Stan gave his mom a small smile and shook his head.
"No thanks, Mom. Thank you for washing it though. I'm heading to Kyle's and I'll be home late! Loveyoubye!" He rushed the last part before shutting the front door behind him. He didn't want to stay there too long for Shelly to catch up to him.
He walked passed his sisters' motorcycle and made sure to keep his distance. Once she beat him for 'scratching it up' when he didn't have anything to do with it. Now he stays as far away from the fucking thing as possible.
He got to his car, and his face dropped. His sister spray painted the word 'FAG' across his windshield. He ran up to his car and dragged his finger across the paint. Some of it came off, but there was still residue from the paint. He would have to thoroughly wash the windshield in order to take it all off.
"God fucking dammit! Fucking why?!" Stan groaned and slammed his fist against the hood of his black Honda. He eventually stood up straight again and shot an angry text to Kyle before he put his keys in his pockets and descended down the street towards Kyle's house.
Hey I'm having car troubles so I have to walk there. I'll be there in about 20 minutes. -Stan
It's not that big a deal if Stan walks. It was a nice evening and he needed the air. He walked passed a group of teens possibly younger than him laughing and smiling. Stan sighed.
That must be nice.
He finally made it in front of the Broflovski's home and noticed a car he hadn't noticed before.
"Must be Craig's." Stan said to himself, before he walked up the driveway and to the front door. He knocked on the door, and Ike answered the door.
He's gotten a lot older now, and is now in the seventh grade and is 13 years old. He's a tall kid too, almost about as tall as Stan who is 5'4. He has short black hair and big brown eyes. He looks a lot younger than he really is since his thing at the moment is Superman. He's always wearing something Superman or Marvel related.
"Kyle! Stan is here!" Ike shouted towards the staircase. Not long after, Kyle's voice could be heard from upstairs.
"Okay, Ike! Just let him in!" With that, Ike stepped aside, and shut the door after Stan had entered. he walked up the stair case and carefully opened up the door. Once he opened it all the way, Kenny and Kyle were sitting on the floor, and Craig was sitting backwards in the computer chair with the back of the chair against his chest and his chin resting on his arms. He looked up at him with that same blank poker face he always wears.
"Hey, dude. I'm glad you're here." Kyle said, and patted the carpeted floor, motioning for him to sit next to him. He smiled a little and sat down next to him. Craig chuckled.
"What?" he snapped. Craig shrugged.
"I've never seen you in skinny jeans and converse, Marsh. You changing your style all of a sudden?" He stated. Stan glared at him and rolled his eyes. Before he could make a comeback, Kyle intervened.
"Stop it, Craig. That's not what's important right now." He said, and all of them turned their heads towards Kenny, who's eyes were averted to the floor.
He doesn't wear his parka anymore, but he wears and orange hoodie with ripped blue jeans and old converse. Things have gotten a little better for him since he started working at Papa John's part time, but he still wears old tattered clothing.
Kyle sighed and put his hand on Kenny's shoulder.
"So do you wanna talk? Why are you suddenly talking about suicide?" he said with a gentle tone. Kenny shrugged.
"I don't know, I just...it's hard."
"What's hard?" Craig asked. Kenny shook his head.
"Everything. I'm struggling to help my family put food on the table. I want to help as much as I can but I don't know how much I can help." Kyle gave Kenny a small smile.
"You're trying, Kenny. And they're very lucky to have a son who is willing to help and spend his money on the necessities that they need, like food." Kenny shut his eyes tight and pulled his knees up to his chest.
"It's harder to for you guys to know what I'm feeling. You don't know what it's like to feel alone. You don't know what it's like to have nothing and to feel like you have no one. You don't know what it's like to try and try and try and never be good enough." At this point Stan was becoming irritated. He does know what that's like. If anything, he understands better than anyone else does.
"So you're willing to end your life, just like that?" Stan stated, staring at the floor still. The room grew quiet.
"What?" Kenny said. Stan looked up at him with an irritated look.
"You're telling us it's hard for you to help you're family, and you want to help them as much as possible. Yet, you're sitting here talking about ending your own life. Why would you do that to them? How would that help?" he stated angrily. Kenny's eyes were wide, and Craig looked like he was about to punch Stan in the face. Kyle sighed.
"You know, Stan is right. You shouldn't leave your family behind in that way. Kenny, imagine what your family's lives would be like if you just died?" Kenny laughed and the three boys stared at him in confusion.
"Yeah. Imagine." Kenny repeated. Kenny groaned and rested his elbows against his knees. "It's not like suicide would work anyways." Stan leaned over and put his head in his hands. He hated talking about suicide. Not just because it's one of his dear friends, but because he's too afraid himself to talk about himself for a change.
"You don't cut yourself, do you?" Craig spoke up. Stan's head shot up in shock and annoyance. Kenny sighed again and looked up at Craig.
"I wouldn't do something that idiotic, Craig. Cutting is the dumbest thing you could do besides suicide." Stan narrowed his eyes a bit and heard Kyle laugh.
"Yeah and plus, does Kenny look emo to you?" After that, Kenny laughed too a long with Kyle. Craig stated he was being serious, but they were still making jokes about it. Stan couldn't take the laughter and slammed his fist against the floor. They jumped and stared at Stan with wide eyes.
"That's not funny." Stan said with his head down and his bangs covering his eyes. The room was quiet for a couple minutes before Kyle cleared his throat and spoke up.
"S-Stan. It was just a joke. It's okay." Kyle said, putting his hands up in defense. Stan folded his small hands in his lap tightly; so tight his knuckles turned white.
"Kyle" Stan said, head still down and face still not visible. "What if one of your friends were cutting themselves? Would you laugh?" Stan asked. They all raised a brow in confusion and shock, as they have never seen this side of Stan before. Little did they know, there was more to this face than they know.
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