So, I'm sick, and I wrote this while sick, then looked back on it, when I was feeling better, thinking "...what?" But I kind of liked it so...it gets uploaded.
Quite a bit of swearing/vulgarity/whatever.
I dunno, I always thought of Ike as being extremely angry and...not wanting to belong, I guess. All the pressure put on him to be so smart, you know?
This kind of helped with the major writer's block I'm having and I'm back to working on Habits I Have. :D Anyway...enjoy, or not.
Ike's POV
So apparently, I've been "excessively angry and violent" in school. Mom dragged me off to a psychiatrist, who told me to start keeping a journal. Mom forced me into it and now here I am. I know she's going to read it no matter where I hide it—she'll find it when she's "cleaning," I'm sure—but I don't care. I'll give her something to read about.
They want to know why I'm so fucking violent? Why I pretty much want to beat anyone who crosses my path into a pulp?
I hate my family, that's why.
First off, they're not my family. I'm adopted because Gerald didn't have the stones to get Sheila fat again (not that she needed to be pregnant to be "fat"). And I'm sure Sheila's thing with Canada came into play. There I was, a needy little Canadian infant, just begging to be "rescued." At least, that's her version.
Besides that, there are bitchy little quirks to each member of my "family." Let's start with Kyle. Oh, he's just a fucking genius, isn't he? Meanwhile, I'm barely managing to pass—but hey, whose idea was it to place me into kindergarten two years before I was supposed to be there? I was smart then, but things are catching up to me eight years later, and, of course, it's my fault. Just like the windows I broke when I was punted through them.
Anyway, Kyle. Yeah, he has all his little friends, and all his humongo brains, and he's the "good kid." Meanwhile, I'm the ex-genius that everyone hates. Because I was "too stuck-up" in elementary school. Shit, you know what? I would have given anything to be normal in those years. I was just trying to be myself in those years, not trying to piss anyone off. I know they're just mad because I was so much smarter than they were.
But Kyle was "smart" and still "such a good person." You know what? He rarely showed that side to me, and still doesn't. Don't kick the fucking baby, Kyle…
Then there's Gerald. Who is such a great lawyer. Yeah, about that, Dad. Remember some of the cases that you took? For instance, all those sexual harassment lawsuits. Yeah, the ones that drained all the money out of the school you sent you sons to. But hey, at least it made it a better fucking place, right? Here's the truth, Gerald. That place was a hellhole, and I can pretty much guarantee that it still is. All the teachers, shitting around nonstop—no one learned anything. The only decent teacher was that one lesbo sub that Kyle's class had that one time, and she got killed off. So good job, Gerald. I didn't know it was possible to make a hellhole worse.
Then, he gets conceited over each and every supposedly "good" thing he does. Like with the Hybrid thing. We almost all died because of him. "I'm not moving back to South Park until everyone drives Hybrids." Yeah, well thanks to him, Stan took that seriously. And following his example, everyone became so fucking arrogant about his or her little "contribution." And then everyone almost died, including us. It's still completely unknown how we ended up back in South Park. Nicely done, Gerald. Next time I'm looking to be completely screwed over, I know whom to turn to.
And you, Sheila. It's pretty obvious you're going to read this. So this is for you.
God, Cartman got it best, you know that? "Kyle's mom is a big fat bitch, she's the biggest bitch in the whole wide world!" You're such a hypocrite, preaching acceptance and open-mindedness and all that sappy bullshit. Then it has something to do with your family, and your town, and it's the worst thing that ever existed. Well Sheila, get the fuck over it. I'm so sick of you. I'm so sick of this place. I can't wait until the day I turn eighteen and can get out of here. You hate Canadians, so I'll finally be out of your way, right?
Never mind, screw this shit. I'm not going to wait around here for all of you to change. Bye, maybe I'll come back some time. But for now, South Park is a bullshit, hick town and I can't take it anymore. If I'm lucky, you'll never find me. Ever.
