~I Love You~ A Stanley Barber Fanfiction.

Boring

Boring

If there's one word to describe my life right now, it would be boring.

Sorry, I should probably introduce myself first. My name's Y/n, I'm your average, depressed, stoner teenage girl.

I'm not really special in any way. I like to think of myself as the side character. The comedic relief, one might say. And I'm okay with that. I like making my friends smile and laugh, that's what friends are for, right?

Speaking of friends, I'm not a total loser. I have a group of 'friends'. They're not really my friends, they just use me as an Uber because I'm the only person in the group who has a driver's license. There are four of us in total, me, Kylie, Chloe, and Claire. We're all girls.

Besides them, I have three other friends. A girl named Sydney Novak, she's pretty damn awesome, not to mention literally drop dead gorgeous, a girl named Dina, she just got her braces off, so along with that, her boobs also appeared out of nowhere, and a guy, Stanley Barber. Stanley has been my best friend since like 7th grade, we've known each other since middle school.

I have the absolute joy of living right next to Stan, so when his dad isn't home, which is about 25 days out of each month, he'll invite me over for a sleepover and to get high, henceforth the stoner part, and listen to Bloodwitch or watch movies on VHS tapes. I practically live at Stan's house.

I hate being at my own house because of my family. I have an older brother, Mark. He's pretty alright, I guess. We have a 5 year age gap between us, so we're not super close or anything. My mom...ugh, where do I begin? She's definitely not getting the 'Mom of The Year' award. She's a 'recovering' alcoholic. I put 'recovering' in quotes because that's what she claims. She claims that she's sober, but she's lying.

For one, her behavior is still the same from when she'd been drinking. She's not physically abusive when she's drunk, but she's definitely verbally and emotionally abusive when she's hammered. And for two, she had me do her laundry last week, as I was putting a pair of pants into the washer, a beer bottle cap cut me.

I mean it's fine... I'm used to cutting anyway...

Back to the story, I wrapped my finger up and I checked her pockets of her pants

4

8

12

16 fucking beer bottle caps distributed by 3 pants.

Plus, when she gets up in the morning, she always smells like cheap alcohol if she doesn't take a shower.

And don't even get me started on my dad...

He's a drug addict and very verbally and physically abusive.

Usually, the only time I'm home is when they're not home, and even then, I'm still hanging out with Stan at his house. His dad doesn't like me very much, so if my parents aren't home, but his dad is, I'll invite him over to hangout.

Anyway, back to why I'm doing this stupid journal. Ms. Cappriotti says it'll help with my anger issues. I don't mean to get angry, it just kinda overflows sometimes. I usually don't notice it until I'm in too deep.

So there it is, my boring life story. I just hope that Ms. Cappriotti doesn't read this at our next session or I'm fucked.