Disclaimer: All South Park characters belong to their rightful owners, Trey Parker and Matt Stone.

"If I behave as though this is a completely normal situation, then maybe it will be ..."

The sound of the moving truck's tires dragging heavily across the pavement met your ears, directing your eyes towards the window, you watched wordlessly as the truck disappeared down the road. It's been the what, fourth (or was it the fifth - uh, can't remember anymore) time you've found yourself having to watch that truck drive off while settling into your latest home.

"And so it begins...again," you muttered dejectedly, turning your back to your window. Casting your gaze about your room, you noticed a few moving boxes here and there containing the last of your items that needed to be unloaded. Snorting softly, you decided you'd deal with the task later. You've been unpacking all morning, and you weren't too keen on wasting the remainder of your day doing the same thing. Spreading your arms out wide, you allowed your body to fall backwards. The feeling of a soft comforter hitting your spine caused a small sigh of relief to leave your lips. Well, on the upside, the new bed felt fabulous. That's a good thing, right? One thing to be happy about...

'Thump'

Turning your head to the left, you found the source of the sound. Your backpack had fallen over due to your earlier action of falling back into bed. Propping yourself on your elbows, you found your attention drawn to a certain something that had been exposed during the little tumble.

Your love-worn Phillip action figure tumbled out of your backpack, capturing your attention due to the obscene gesture it was currently giving you. There, crafted on both of the action dolls hands, were single digits. Both were located in the center to give off the illusion that the well-known idol of children everywhere...was flipping you off. Crouching down in front of the figure, you stared at its black beady little eyes. You could just almost hear a nasally voice stating that it 'just didn't give a fuck'. Chuckling softly under your breath, you carefully plucked Phillip off of the ground and stood up.

Well, one was accounted for. Now...where was - ah! There it is. Feeling your lips quirk up to form a smile, you reached into the depths of your backpack to pull out Phillip's companion. Your Terrance action figure was definitely not of the norm. Bright, vibrant red paint had been placed over the once onyx eyes. Placed atop of the figure's head was a set of horns, giving it an almost satanic look. The last piece that had been personified was an upside down cross strapped around its neck.

While you had been highly amused at the sight of your Terrance and Phillip action figures, your mother was a whole different case. At first she had thought you were extremely troubled and tried to sit you down for a 'talk'. It didn't help when you informed her that your new toys had been a gift from your pen-pals. If anything, it only made her extremely wary whenever she saw you on the internet or with your phone in hand. Her warning to be careful had gone in one ear and out the other. After all, you knew your friends better than she did. If anything, your two boys were more apathetic towards the world than most others usually were.

"Sweetie? Hon, are you all dressed?"

Before you even had time to respond, your door was open and your parents had barged in. Your mother had to bite her tongue after casting a quick glimpse about your room. Those horrid dolls were already displayed proudly on your bed, one flipping her off and the other staring her down with those blood red eyes. A large poster of an astronaut was hanging on your wall located to the right of the window. Upon closer inspection, your mother noticed that a small photograph could be seen attached to the poster. If she recalled correctly, it was of one of your little friends posing as a Spaceman...and flipping the camera off. Meanwhile, your desk was littered with those unholy trinkets your other little friend had sent you over the years.

"Hey, champ," your father greeted you enthusiastically while spreading his arms wide to gesture about your small quarters. "How do you like your new room?!"

Releasing a small sigh, your mother could not prevent herself from rolling her eyes. There he went with the labels again. Her husband constantly referred to you as a boy, which in return, caused you to resent him. It was no secret that his first choice was to have a son, so when you were born...well, your father didn't do a very good job of trying to hide his disappointment.

Deciding to openly ignore your lack of response, your father began to speak once again. "I know it's a big change for all of us, but...champ, do you remember why we moved to this quiet little mountain town?"

"..." You stared at your parents, watching silently as they exchanged nervous glances with one another before turning their attention back to you.

"Champ doesn't remember."

"She doesn't remember at all -"

"That's good. That's good champ doesn't remember!"

They weren't serious, were they? Did they actually believe that you couldn't hear them having a quiet discussion right in front of you? Staring at their oblivious faces as they continued to stare at you as if you were some kind of retard, you came to the conclusion that they were indeed treating you like a 5-year old with ADD. For Pete's Sake, the whole reason your family had moved was due to that unfortunate 'incident' a few weeks back. How could anyone possibly forget THAT?

"Uh, sweetie," your mother's soft voice broke you out of your pessimistic thoughts, "we want you to have lots of fun here. Why don't you go out and make some friends?"

"Right, get outside and PLAY, champ," your father encouraged, gesturing towards your window to try and get his point across. That 100 watt smile on his face wasn't fooling you for a second. "Like...like normal kids."

And THERE'S the insult you knew he had been saving for you.

Your mother was not oblivious to rising tension between you and your father. Quickly stepping in to try and prevent any outbursts, she decided it would be best to try a peace offering. "We've got some money for you on the kitchen counter, sweetie," your mother cooed softly, quietly taking in your bland reaction. "Just...just be back before it gets dark."

"..." you refused to budge, staring defiantly at you parents as the two continued to stare at you whilst eagerly waiting for a response that they very well knew would never come.

A loud scoff escaped your fathers lips. His shoulders hunched forward while his arms raised to perform a shrugging motion. "Yeah, we love you too," your father's sarcastic tone filtered through the air, gaining a reprimanding look from your mother due to his carless actions. Releasing one last sound of annoyance, your father turned on his heel and left your room.

*Good riddance...* Crossing your arms over your chest, your [e/c] eyes locked with your mother's, silently daring her to try and cross the boundary that her husband had done just moments ago. Arching a brow, you watched the woman sigh softly before turning her back to you and began her trek downstairs. *Took you long enough.*

Rubbing your face in your hands, you silently debated on whether or not you should appease your parents by doing what they had asked. Part of you wanted to ignore them, just to spite that old man. The other part wanted out of here as soon as possible. Why put up with all this bullcrap, anyway? Might as well explore the neighborhood. Nodding to yourself in affirmation, you quickly bound to your door, but not before swiping your cell phone off of your desk in the process. Grasping a hold of your brass door knob, you tugged it shut behind you. Wouldn't want your parents snooping around again - that is the last thing you need right now.

"Ah, look who decided to actually listen for once."

Turning a deaf ear to your father's irritating tone, you made a beeline for the kitchen. The money your mother had left out for you was sitting on the counter. Wow, a whole whooping 80 cents! Aren't you the lucky one? Pfffft. Staring at the change in the palm of your hand, you seriously had to wonder what your parents thought you could possibly hope to afford with this. Maybe you could throw it at some hobos, that would be entertaining. Slipping the coins into your pocket, you turned on your heel and headed towards the front door. The downside? Having to pass your father in the living room in order to do so. You could see the man opening his mouth for some kind of snarky remark. Okay, let's quicken the pace, shall we?

"Don't forget to act normal!"

...Motherfucker!

Slamming the door with more force than was necessary, you relished in the sound of a few cracks cutting through the wood due to your abrasive actions. Snickering quietly to yourself, you turned on your heel and waltzed off the door step, deciding you'd leave the damage to the front door as a surprise for 'daddy dearest'. Eh heh heh. You had barely made it three steps from your front step when a low voice suddenly filtered through the air to address your previous actions.

"Probably could've used a bit more force when slamming that door shut. Then again...a simple curse would have sufficed, but we both know how bad you suck at that kind of thing."