Stan's essay. Stan really is a pretty normal guy, so his secret seemed relatively weak compaired to Butters. But still, what guy would admit to being physically (and probably emotionally) abused by a female? I liked the idea of Stan and Wendy being together, which will be explained later... Warnings: Slight adult themes, depression, abuse.


Emotive Me: by Stan Marsh

I'm the one that seems all right. I'm there for everyone… but who's here for me? Wendy? Kyle? I love them both but I have nothing left for myself. I'm so sick of this town, this life! I wish I had the balls to just get it over with, but I don't want to leave everyone.

This is me: Stan Marsh. Kyle Broflovski is the best friend I've ever had. Wendy Testaburger is the love of my life. Home sucks. School sucks; everyone mocks my clothes, saying I'm Emo. So what if I like "Emotive Punk"? It's not as if I cut myself anymore, so they should just lay off! Well, not as often.

Like I said before, home sucks. My dad's an alcoholic but that's really nothing new, everyone is these days. My sister is still a slut. She and Cartman's mom would get along great. Her name's Michelle, but refuses to be called anything but Shell. She's a major stoner, and prostitutes herself for the money. I always wonder where she gets it anyway, what dealers live in South Park? The drugs don't help her moods either, she's still as bitchy as always. She's fucking strong too, which isn't the greatest combination.

Not that I couldn't take her on of course, like I didn't used to be able to when I was little, but I don't want to hit a girl. That's just not cool. Though, a lot of times I wish she were a guy just for that reason! Just a few days ago, my dad was plastered, and ended up saying something stupid; he has a habit of doing that when he's drunk, and now Shell's rage has begun to bruise on his jaw. Actually, I think I still have one too, on my chest…

As I said before, Kyle's the greatest friend I could ever ask for. He's the one who helps me through this shithole of a life. I can tell him about Shell, because he knows her too. She used to babysit us when we were little; that's how long we've been friends. I wouldn't dare tell Wendy about her, even though I know that's not good for our relationship. I just don't want her to think I'm a pussy, or that I couldn't protect her from something happening. We've broken up 5 times over the past 8 years, and I really don't want to give her another reason to break up. I just love her so much… one more time may be the last. It might be the end of us, and if that happened I know I'd die. Not even Kyle could be enough...

Death seems like such a good idea sometimes, what with my life. I mean, I know there are people way worse off than me... but nights after Shell has left her mark on me, a bruise or cut of varying severity, I find Santa and the Easter Bunny easier to believe in than that.