Two shits.

Chapter 1 Bigger

I'm coming home. I couldn't take any more of the abuse and constant rules. Six years ago, they sent me to rehab for my suicide attempt and alcohol addiction. When I was finally deemed sober and stable, I had to be sent away because the court stated my parent was 'too irresponsible and not careful enough to raise me'. To be honest, the home they sent me away to was far worse. They were so strict about everything. If you didn't follow their agnostic lifestyle, you were punished. The basement was really just used as a torture chamber for those who disobeyed the rules in the slightest. I finally grew the balls to do something about it. I sent a letter to my best friend, Kyle, and he said his dad told him that if I'm sixteen and had valid reasons to leave my home, I could take it to court and hopefully succeed in moving out. I had to get out of that hell hole. Luckily, I won the case and they let me leave. I'm moving back in with my mom and Shelley. The court decided it would be okay now, after it was finally proven that she had no part in my mistakes. Six years later, I'm still being checked on by therapists, former support group members and youth leaders. They wont let it go.
I took the bus over to South Park. I'm so eager to see everyone again. I've only been able to communicate with my friends through snail mail. Occasionally I could get away with social media but I didn't try too much because whenever I'd been caught, I was taken straight down to the basement. That place fucking sucks. The foster parents are in jail now. Thank god. Hopefully all those other kids find better homes, but I'm going back to the place where I should have always been.
I knock on the front door. The same door of the same house I grew up in. I'm shaking. It's been such a long time. I want to see who has changed and what everyone looks like now, but I'm afraid of what the change may be. What if nobody is nearly the same as they seemed over the mail? What if they all really stopped caring about me but didn't know how to stop sending me letters? I ask too many questions. I need to get it together. What ever will happen will be for the better. I'm going back to public school. I can't shut myself away from all of my friends because I think they're fake to me. I just have to grow stronger relationships with them.
The door opens and I see my mother; nearly crying, barely able to exhale her words.

"Stanley!" She hugs me tightly.

I never realized how much I love my mother until right now. I hug her back, nearly shedding a few tears myself. My heart feels like its breaking but at the same time being put back together. My stomach holds an anxious feeling. I never thought I'd get to see my mom again. Not for a very long time, at least. She takes me up the stairs and shows me my old room. It looks like she never got rid of any of my things. She only boxed it all up, but started to unbox it when she heard of my return. I feel like I'm 10 years old again. I look at a picture on my desk. It's a picture of two young boys in elf costumes.

Kyle.

I miss him so much. I tell my mother I'm going to walk around the town for a little while, just for the memories. Of course the first place I go is next door. Kyle answers the door. He nearly drops the phone in his hand. He immediately starts crying and walking in to hug me.

"It's been too long, Stan." He sobs on my shoulder.

He's right. It really has been. I can't speak without crying, so I just hug him tighter. We both stand in the doorway, shaking in each others arms. I can't pull away. He's been my best friend since the beginning of my memory. He's always been there. I never want to let him go. I can't let him go. Soon our embrace is broken by the sound of footsteps walking up the porch. I turn to see Cartman and Kenny. Cartman has lost some weight, but he's still fat ass. Kenny only wears a sweatshirt now, and he keeps the hood down. Kyle stopped tucking his hair completely under his hat. I realize how we're all back together again, but it feels different. I know I can't expect everything to be exactly the same after six years have passed, but this whole town just feels strange to me now.

"Hey Kyle, who's this?" Cartman asks

I turn around. Kenny studies my face to try and remember. I realize I'd never shown anyone what I look like now, since I was never allowed to use social media, let alone post pictures of myself. I couldn't even take pictures of myself at all, because the parents I had would think that a teenage boy should never have a camera or the internet or any forms of socializing through phones. They always thought I would use those capabilities for the wrong things, like revealing what they do to their kids or sending out a message for help because they're bat shit insane. They said the real reason was for my personal safety, but if they really cared about that, they wouldn't have treated me the way they did. It was just a shitty home. I'm glad I got away.

"Stan?" Kenny reaches out to put is hand on my shoulder. I flinch as instinct, but make it look like I'm just shivering.

I give Kenny a hug and Cartman comes in to high five me. It feels good to be back, but still never the same. It might just be that I haven't been around friends in a while. I was never allowed to hang out with friends, mostly because I could rarely make friends except out on the street for a brief moment. I was homeschooled because the foster parents didn't like the possibility of being influenced by different beliefs, especially in science class. They wanted to teach me what they wanted to believe. My foster siblings were scared shitless to talk to each other. The house was always quiet, unless someone was being punished.
I can't get my mind over any of it. I'm supposed to be happy now. I made the great escape from hell and I'm still bothered about it.
You're okay now.  I tell myself. You're back where you belong. You're happy and sober and that's all you needed when you left in the first place. They wont take you away now. You're sixteen. You're okay.
I wish I could forget everything. I wish I could be ten years old again. Before I was depressed, before I had an addiction, before my mind was scarred from fucked up things, before I had to lose my dad.

Dad.

I never even got to say goodbye to him.