AN: Oh boy, I finally got Ch 4 up. I've been so busy lately. At least in two weeks, I'll be as free as a bird and I can write this story as long as I want without homework distracting me. Well I hope you guys like this chapter, even though it was an awkward kind of chapter to write.
I slammed the door shut with every piece of anger in me. I hate Stan Marsh with such a fiery passion. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. Every time I see or think of his face, all the contents of my stomach violently come up and down, leaving a disgusting taste in my mouth. It was never like this. Never. We were the best of friends, two peas in a pod. My parents and his were always really close. I'm not to sure of the origins but that they've known each other much before Shelly, Stan's older sister, was born. Stan and I almost grew up together. My family would always visit his and we would spend days and nights constantly in each others company. We were like twins that were attached to hip. Even when the visits became less frequent, we still made sure that our friendship was still strong. That is until 2 years ago, when he decided to be a little bitch and destroy everything that we created in our friendship. He cheated me out and when the finger was pointed at him, he pointed it right at me, even when I defended his asshole all over the place. What an ungrateful bastard.
I decide that thinking of Stan Marsh was just wasting my sanity and went to play my XBOX. I put on Left 4 Dead and had fun slashing zombies to and fro, playing as Zoey. We reached the storage area with the ladder when I heard knocking against my door.
" Yea?" I yell as I lower the volume of the screaming zombies in the background. One was able to touch Zoey's tits. Congratulations. You get a shot to the head.
"'Can..can I come in..?" said the muffled voice behind the door. Puzzled who could it be, I paused the game and opened my door. My expression went from confused to pissed at the sight of Stan, who was fiddling his fingers, looking straight of me.
" What are you doing here?" I ask as I take a better look at him. He was wearing his trademark blue and red hat with his raven hair sticking out in every direction imaginable. He wore his brown jacket that had a maroon red brim and matching gloves with a pair of dark blue jeans. If I didn't hate his guts with a fiery passion, I probably would find him quite attractive. But as of now, he looks like a pile of shit.
" Well my family was invited for dinner and my mom-"
" No you smartass! I mean, what are you doing HERE, OUTSIDE MY FUCKING ROOM?!" I yelled at him, pointing towards his feet.
" Well I just wanted to talk to you again since we-"
" And whose fault is that, shit-for-brains?"
" Ummm I don't.. I don't.."
" Oh you don't know? You don't know!? God dammit you're so fucking..." I stopped midway. He took a step back and had his palms facing me, covering his petrified face. Even though I would pay millions to see him shit his pants, there was a part of me that still felt pity for his sorry ass. No matter what happened between us, we were close friends. He was the brother I always wanted, needed even. We know each other inside and out. He's the first one to ever find out about my mother does to me and stood by my side every time we were together, almost sort of protecting me from that darkness. And know, here he stood, terrified to even be a foot near me. I turned my back to him and walked halfway in my room, stopping when I heard him rustle out of that position. " Look Stan. What happened between us, I mean, that really hurt. The one person that I thought I could trust and... and..." Tears began forming at the corners of my eyes, cooling my face as each one ran down my puffed cheeks. " I.. I didn't know what to do or even what to think and-"
" Callie, you don't need to say anymore. You're right. I fucked up. I fucked up everything. There isn't a day that goes by where I don't think about what happened. Everyday, I regret what I've done and I know that no matter how much I want to forget it, I can't escape what happened. I lost a valuable friend and gained painful memories that not even Mr. Hankey can erase."
" Mr. Hankey?"
" Talking Christmas Poo that Kyle discovered last year. You wouldn't get it. " Christmas poo? What the hell are these kids on? Jeez, I don't even want to know.
" EITHER WAY, I've been living the past two years in regret and... well... I m-missed y-you C-Callie.." Tears were having a marathon on my face at this point. Behind me, I could hear sniffling as well. I turned around and my eyes grew big as I saw Stan. His face became puffy and red, trying to fight back crying and failing to do so miserably. He was crying even worse than me, shaking where he stood. My legs began to feel weak, buckling into each other. Suddenly, I lost control and feel on my knees. I shifted my torso weight to the back of my feet and let everything that was suppressed for the past 2 years release itself, each painful memory coming out in a form of a tear. My face began to feel wet on my hands, each tear sticking onto every orifice of my fingers. I saw some wet stains on my shirt, unaware of where there possibly came from. My body felt cold and rigid as I continued to cry. I just wanted him to leave. No. He belongs to this town. This is his home. I just want to leave. I want to go back to the past years, where everyday a smile would appear on my face. Back the years where California was my home. A place where I could go and forget about the world. A place miles and miles away from the cold hard floor I'm sitting on right now, crying instead smiling.
I begun to hear footsteps come closer to me in a slow, hard tempo. Instinctively, I curled more into myself, protecting my face. I've learned this method after my mother. She would come in my room after I've done something wrong or ' not normal' and begin to whip my body, leaving numerous of scars around. She would never get my face though. My face was the only part of me that she viewed as ' untouchable'. I curl up even tighter at the memories, pressing my face even harder against my knees. Heat began to overwhelm me as the figure walked closer and closer until t hey stopped right in front of me. After a while of silence, I begin to feel arms covering me as if to protect me. Protect me from all the darkness that has entered my life. I losses a bit to see Stan's arms around me, pressing himself against me, as he used to always do whenever I cried. I stop hugging my knees and move my arms to hug his torso, pressing my face against his left side. We stay like that for a while longer, listening to each other's soft tears.
Once we released every tear that was in our system, we began to loosen up our embrace. I took my face away from his toned chest ( Jeez what does this guy do!?) and look into his eyes. He returns the stare and gives me a wide toothy smile that's bright enough to light up an entire football stadium. I question if he has a girlfriend or not. I mean, with a smile like that, who wouldn't go out with him.
" Hey, you know, I was playing on the Xbox before all of this. Maybe we can duel it out, you know like old times..." I asked him as I returned the smile. We immediately untangled ourselves from our embrace and ran over to the Xbox to kick some zombie ass.
We walked farther along the abandoned house in Left 4 Dead. I still played as Zoey while Stan played as Francis. All of a sudden, a CP startled the car alarm outside and hoard of zombies came chasing after us. I was shooting zombies left and right with my pistol while Stan beating the shit out of each of them.
" God dammit! When is this hoard going to end?" screamed Stan as more and more zombies came running after him. I was able to at least get a few of them away from me but Stan's character was being eaten alive.
" Why don't you use your gun!? You have like one of the best guns in the game!" I screamed at him as I head shot another zombie heading for my tits. What's with these horny zombies?
" Because I don't want to run out of bullets and use that shitty pistol that youre using!"
As he said that, a zombie came up from behind him, killing enough of his life to leave him on the ground, unable to get up unless received help from a friend. The other two were somewhere further in, so they were not available to assist. It only left me to help him up. Ha.
" Hey why don't you actually help me up instead of standing there, you bitch?!"
" Well because..."
" Because what?"
I aimed my pistol at the fallen Francis " Because I still hate you." And proceeded to shoot him til his death.