BETRAYAL

Sharon hurried Stan along inside their house when they got home before having him face her.

"Just what on earth were you thinking when you called your teacher gay, Stanley?" she raged.

"I just"-

"Never before have you been brought into the principal's office for calling someone gay. Do you even know the meaning of the word? I know you kids like to use it when adults aren't around but still..."

"Mom"-

"There is no reason for you to do such a thing!" she continued.

"Damnit Mom will you just let me talk for a minute?" Stan said over her.

She narrowed her eyes, grabbed his wrist and smacked him across his behind. Stan's eyes went wide with fright. His mother had done something she had never ever done before, something she and his father had been against since day one, something they promised him they'd never do- she hit him. Stan never felt more betrayed in his whole life than this day. First his best friend hated him and now his mom hit him. He couldn't help it; he sank to the floor and began to cry. Sharon wore a look of surprise for a second before changing back to anger.

"I want you to go up to your room and stay there until your father and I come up."

Stan cried as she pulled him up and put him on the stairs. He hurried up them and into his room and flopped onto his bed and sobbed. Today was horrible, absolutely horrible. What was going on? What was going on? An hour later Shelley came home from school. She grabbed a cup of yogurt and was about to go upstairs when Sharon stopped her.

"I don't want you going into your brother's room right now okay Shelley?" Sharon told her from the dining room table, book in hand.

"Why?"

"He is in very big trouble right now. He has to realize what he did was wrong."

"What did he do?"

Sharon sighed, lowering her book. "He- he called out on his teacher's sexuality today. And cursed in front of me."

"He did what?" Shelley gasped.

"Don't bother him right now all right?"

Shelley nodded and went upstairs. She crossed her room and was about to enter it when she heard soft crying. She put her ear to Stan's door and realized it was coming from there. She took a few steps back, going in the direction of her room, but couldn't. Her mother warned her not to bother him right now. But he was upset, and she hated seeing her little brother upset. She bit her lip, thinking for a moment before turning the doorknob and poking her head in.

"Stan?" she whispered.

He was still on his bed, face in his pillow, crying. She went all the way into the room and closed the door behind her before walking to his bed.

"Stan?" she asked again.

It was the second time today that he jumped when he felt a hand on his back. He turned his head to find the concerned look on his sister's face staring back at him. Shelley, concerned? She sat down on the bed near his feet, hand still on his back.

"Stan? Are you okay?"

Stan sniffed as he sat up. "N-no."

"What happened little brother?"

His body shivered as if the air around them grew colder. He was not used to- it didn't matter. He was upset. His own mother had slapped him, the fact that she had done such a thing hurt far more than his actual behind. He couldn't help it, he crumpled onto Shelley.

"M- Mom hit me!" he wailed.

"Hm?" she had her arm around him.

"She hit me! She- she- (sniff) she said she'd never ever do that. Not in a million years but she did!"

Shelley was worried now. "I can't believe you're so upset over this Stan. Mom's hit you before."

Stan looked at her with an expression of horror.

"She doesn't you know, beat you or hit you more than three times in a row but she's hit you."

Stan was speechless.

"It doesn't happen often, you have to really do something horrible for Mom or Dad to hit you. But it's not so bad, it could be worse. You're lucky our parents don't beat us or anything," Shelley explained.

Stan sniffed, sucking in the air around him. "You don't get it! Mom has never done something like that. (sniff) Everything's different Shelley. The Mom I remember from Friday promised us she would never hurt us. Dad too. They- they said they never be-believed in that kind of punishment. It's always been time-outs and lectures and grounding for us. But- but this… it's like she betrayed me Shelley!"

Was he still living in some dream world from the weekend? What was wrong with him? She didn't know what to say so she just allowed him to continue to cry on her as she held him. She didn't leave his room until 5:00, when Randy came home. Footsteps were heard and their parents walked into their son's room.

"Shelley, what did I tell you?" Sharon said heavily.

Shelley looked down at her brother who was no longer crying but was still feeling miserable.

"We need to speak to Stan alone Shelley," Randy said sternly.

Shelley got to her feet but Stan took hold of her shirt. "No! Don't leave me!" he was really afraid his parents were going to hurt him now that they were both here.

"Sorry Stan," Shelley looked sympathetic before unlatching his fingers and leaving the room.

"Stan," Sharon began, stepping forward but Stan scooted back fearfully.

Randy walked to him as well. "Your mother told me you got in trouble in school today."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry Mom and Dad! I didn't mean to!" Stan cried.

Sharon looked at him, frowning. "Why are you so nervous Stanley?"

"Don't hurt me," Stan squeaked.

"I would never do such a thing," Sharon said, surprised.

"That's what you and Dad promised me my whole life. I thought you were telling the truth because you've never hit me but- but you did. You broke your promise."

"What? You're upset that I hit you earlier?"

Stan just looked to his feet.

"But that's what I always do if I feel you need to be put in line. Stan, you called your own teacher 'gay', and cursed in front of me when we got home. Don't act as if you didn't deserve it."

"Maybe I did. But you've never done that before Mom. Never."

"What are you talking about son?" Randy asked, bewildered.

"Why did you do it? Why couldn't you have just yelled at me and put me in time-out? Why did you"- Stan swallowed a lump in his throat. He didn't know why it was such a big deal, it was just a smack right? But it was more than that. To be told your whole life your parents would never harm you like that and then they go around and do it… he was never punished that way, ever.

Sharon took his hand. "Are you still feeling confused like you did over the weekend?"

"I- I guess. I mean, from- from what I remember Mr. Garrison was gay. He really is. I didn't say it to get in trouble."

"Oh honey, I'm sorry. If you would have told me you were still feeling confused I would have thought twice before smacking you."

Stan didn't say anything back. The betrayal still stung. Sharon stood. "I'm sorry Stanley. However you will be punished for what you did."

"Aw- awww!"

"It hurts me to say this but- you will not get to go with us to volunteer at the animal shelter after school tomorrow."

Stan opened his mouth then closed it. "I- you'd go without me?" Why would his family go to such a place?

"I'm afraid so," Sharon said heavily.

"But- but I'm the only one who's into that kind of stuff."

Sharon and Randy shared a look.

"The answer is no Stanley. Now you sit up here for the rest of the day and don't cause trouble."

His parents walked out. Stan felt that he had gotten off fairly easy. As much as he'd like to help out at the shelter tomorrow he'd survive by not going. He never had volunteered there in the first place so he wasn't really missing anything. The smack on his bottom was punishment enough. No, Kyle's dislike of him hurt even more. Stan could feel his eyes sting. He had had his fair share of fights and arguments and even declarations of de-friending Kyle ever since he was four, but they never lasted long. They were stuck with one another for the rest of time and they knew it. So for Kyle to be the one who hated him, for no apparent reason other than he was 'lame…' and the others. Butters and Kenny and Clyde apparently liked him, but they weren't best friends. Cartman, Eric Cartman of all people was his best friend… how and why he didn't even want to know. All the news that had occurred today was worse than Saturday. But Stan had to find out for sure just how much had changed. He took in a deep breath, brave enough to explore his bedroom, see what was still the same and what wasn't. It was best to find out now before he was too afraid to later.

He opened the three drawers under his bed. They were all filled with junk. The second one held all his usual football and baseball cards. Okay, so at least I'm still into sports… he opened his dresser to take a look at his clothes. All his socks, underwear, and undershirts were still the same, as were his pants, shorts, and swimming trunks. He took a look at his shirts. For the most part they remained the same but mixed into them were more shirts about animals than he remembered. He couldn't even think of three animal shirts he used to own. He frowned as he held up one that had 'San Diego Zoo' written over it with a picture of an elephant. San Diego… he had gone to the zoo last summer with family. That must have meant all of his mother's side of the family still lived in Southern California. He smiled in relief. Another 'normal' thing. He crossed over the room to his closet. His same green suit hung there as well as his same shoes. He moved them aside to see if anything else was familiar.

Same baseball bat, same skateboard, same pair of roller blades, same pieces of old Halloween costumes… that's when Stan noticed something. A bounded book with a picture of a playground, crudely drawn and his kindergarten picture pasted on it. My Kindergarten Memories, it read. Just like Shelley's. If anything would give him an insight on past memories, it would be this. He took the book and sat on his bed and began to flip through it. A lot of the things inside were the same things he remembered from his own life in kindergarten. The same projects, stories, and classmates. He did find one interesting piece though. On another badly colored in picture of a turkey were a few lines.

My name is Stan Marsh and the things I am most thankful for is my toys, cookies, Mom, Dad, and big sister. She loves to play with me and take care of me. She's the best sister ever!

Stan felt a lump rise in his throat. No, that wasn't right. He had written down that he was thankful for all of those things but his sister. He went on about how thankful he was about cookies, not Shelley. But that wasn't it; Stan had noticed a lack of pictures and mentions of Kyle. He found the page where he talked of his best friend.

My name is Stan Marsh and my best friend is Cartman. He likes to play with me and eat snacks with me during snack time and sticks up for me like no one else! Below that was a picture of a smiling Stan and Cartman eating a sandwich during snack time.

Stan tried to find any mentions of Kyle. He found a picture with Kyle in it. It had been at a visit to the local fire station and Kyle was part of the same group Stan was in. Stan was standing next to Kyle, beaming but Kyle looked less-than-happy to have the little boy next to him. He found another project where Kyle was paired up with him. It was from 'T' week and the topic was teeth. Stan read the passage that was written on the paper.

My name is Stan. My friend is Kyle. We counted how many teeth we have today! I have 20 teeth. Kyle also has 20 teeth! It was fun learning about teeth this week with my friend Kyle!

With this was a pair of lips and teeth made from construction paper and looked hideous. There was also a picture of him and Kyle holding up their projects. Again, Stan was happy; Kyle however looked bored out of his mind.

It was like losing Kyle as a friend all over again. He remembered pairing up with Kyle during 'T' week and all the fun they had when it came to teeth. What he was looking at now… didn't fit. Stan shut the book, not wanting anymore false memories. He sat up in his bed, thinking long and hard when he heard a knock on the door. He didn't bother looking out the window to see who it was but two minutes later he saw his bedroom door open and his mother poke her head in.

"Stanley? A friend came over to visit you."

"Huh?"

She stepped inside and Cartman walked in with a smile.

"Only for an hour boys. Stan is in trouble." She walked back downstairs.

"What are you doing here?" Stan asked dully.

"Dude, what happened today? With Garrison and everything?"

Stan sighed deeply. "Why are you pretending to care?"

Cartman looked confused. "I'm not pretending, I really wanna know."

Stan groaned. "You remember what I told you during lunch? About, how I think I'm living someone else's life or something?"

"Yeah."

"That was a part of it. Last time I checked, Mr. Garrison was gay. There's- there's a lot of history behind it actually. He's done a lot of crazy shit since third grade that's gotten him in trouble. He's gay, really really gay."

"Hm… well, I felt bad that you had to miss out on the science lesson so here- I made you something"- he handed over a small tube with goop inside. "I made extra of the glow-in-the-dark slime for you. I knew you'd think the lesson was killer."

Stan took the slime out and into his hands.

"And it really glows. Try it tonight," Cartman pointed out.

"Thanks…" Stan sighed sadly and put the stuff back in the tube and held his head up with his hands.

"Something wrong Stan?" Cartman asked, worried.

"I'm not telling you."

"Why not? We're bros."

"Because we aren't best friends!" Stan screamed. Cartman looked hurt. "S- sorry but, I only feel comfortable talking about this kind of stuff with my best friend. And I thought my best friend was Kyle. Guess I was wrong…"

Cartman noticed the boy's kindergarten book and leafed through some pages. He sat next to Stan. "Sorry man. I did warn you Kyle doesn't like you much."

"But I don't get why. What did I do?"

Cartman put a finger to his lips in thought. "I don't know to tell you the truth. You tried for a while to get him to like you back in preschool, guess he didn't see you as best friend potential. His best friend is actually Craig."

"Craig?"

"Yeah. Makes sense, they both love doing nothing together. Believe me, they are really boring and never come up with anything fun to do. They're both too serious for cool stuff like video games or sweet toys."

The more he heard and saw, the more Stan's chest hurt. He couldn't fall to pieces in front of Cartman of all people.

"Hey Stan? Do you want to tell me exactly what you're going on about? About, this different life or whatever?"

Stan grabbed the brim of his hat in frustration. "I don't normally talk to you though, not about serious things like this."

"Sorry, but hey, if you don't have anyone else to tell, I'm here."

He was right; there really wasn't anyone to talk to but the fatass right now. Stan groaned yet again and told him all he could from the past two and a half days. When he was finished Cartman was raising a brow.

"Do you believe me?" Stan asked, almost desperately.

"Well, it does seem odd that you're acting so different. But, the thought, the mere thought that it might be true… it makes no sense. How and why would you be living some alternate life? How is that even possible?" Cartman questioned.

"That's what I keep telling myself. I want to think that's what's going on, that way all this nonsense makes sense. On the other hand, how could it? If it's not true then I'm really really scared. Everyone is acting differently around me, even my family." He looked down, head in hands again.

"Stan, dude," Cartman placed a hand on the smaller boy's shoulder, causing him to flinch. "You know I want to believe you. But this is insane, it can't be true. All of my memories and experiences are too real for it to be true. You know what I think? I think you really are confused, you really might have amnesia."

Stan was about to say 'but all the thoughts and experiences I have are just as real for me too', but didn't.

"All you can do is wait for your old memories to come back. Then this world will make sense again," Cartman said brightly.

"What if it doesn't change though?"

Cartman thought again. "I don't know." he got up, ready to leave but turned back to him. "Look, let's wait it out, give it to the end of the week. If nothing changes the way you expect them to, then we can work together on trying to figure out what to do about it."

Stan didn't know if he could wait a week, living like this, but he nodded. Cartman waved farewell before leaving. Stan stayed up in his room the rest of the night. He was giving himself one week until he tried to take action, he just didn't know if he should pretend along with everyone else or continue to insist that this was not the life he knew. He didn't want his parents to think he was crazy but he couldn't pretend either. Falling asleep that night was difficult. His mother looked at him sadly, knowing he was still having troubles remembering things. It wasn't easy for Stan to just shrug off what she did to him earlier. How he hoped the next day would be better.

Breakfast was annoying that Tuesday. Sharon had made pancakes and sausages but would not allow Stan to touch any of the sausage.

"But I want it. Please?" he begged.

"For the last time no Stanley! You do not eat meat."

"I told you I did!" Stan soon figured it best to remain true to himself and not act like everything that was happening around him was normal.

"I will not let you break a promise Stan. You haven't eaten meat for two years now, I don't want you to give it up like nothing," Sharon explained.

"But why does it matter? If I want to eat meat than I should be able to."

"But think of all the animals that are going to suffer just so you can have a side of bacon or sausage every week."

"How come you and Dad and Shelley were allowed to drop vegetarianism but not me?" Stan asked, arms crossed.

"Because you're the only one who was able to stick with it. Now no more arguments, eat your pancakes."

"But I need a side with my pancakes."

Sharon came over and presented a small plate with slices of strawberries and bananas.

"Fruit? You're giving me fruit?" One of the few things he had in common with Cartman was he wasn't one to eat much fruit, especially if an adult forced him to.

"It's good for you," Sharon stated.

"So is meat! I want meat Mom!" Stan argued. He never thought he would be having an argument about meat of all things.

"You are not going to have any, do you understand?" Sharon snapped.

"So I'm just supposed to ignore the smell? It's so good… it's tanta-lizing," Stan looked dreamy.

Shelley was at the table too and looked up. "If Stan wants sausage you should just let him eat some, Mom."

"I said no! What else are you kids hearing?" Sharon asked wildly.

Stan folded his arms. "So that's it? No more meat? Ever? No matter what I do?"

"Yes."

Stan really hoped this wasn't his real mother now; no way would he go without meat the rest of his life.

"And it wouldn't kill you to wear some of your animal rights shirts either Stanley," Sharon said matter-of-factly.

"I wear what I want," Stan said stubbornly.

"I don't want you to act as if you aren't a part of all our animal rights groups and support systems. That will be very disrespectful. Wear one today, you might catch the eye of other students at school," Sharon told her son.

"Pff, yeah, to beat me up."

"You will wear a shirt today young man, like your sister and father and myself are, or you won't have anything but animal rights shirts!"

So Stan had to go to school bearing a t-shirt that read 'Join the Save the Tigers Group of Colorado!' thankfully he had his jacket buttoned up over it and hopefully he didn't need to take if off today. Before class began, Stan told Mr. Garrison he was sorry for calling him 'gay' the previous day (his mother told him he'd better). The teacher was still angry that he was called that but forgave the boy. Stan sure hoped he'd be able to get though the day today for his head had begun to hurt again. It had been an hour before lunch when the headache intensified.

"Stanley, Stanley Marsh, are you paying attention?" Mr. Garrison snapped, hand poised on the whiteboard with a pen in hand.

Stan rubbed his eyes as he tried to take down the notes on the fraction problems that were written down.

"Sorry," he apologized.

"I do not tolerate sleeping in my class and you know it young man. Now pay attention!"

Was Mr. Garrison really as nice as others stated he was? Or did he simply have it out for Stan?

"Now children, can you tell me how to reduce the numerator for problem three?"

Stan was rubbing at his eyes still; it was too hard to concentrate on anything. Suddenly the pain took hold and Stan blacked out, unaware to the cries of those sitting around him.

Well as usual, I hope you liked it. FYI, it was tough to write the scene where Sharon smacks Stan. I do not feel hitting children is an effective form of punishment. Anyway, please review as you know I love to read them. Thanks!

Magical love: Rose, July 30, 2010