❝I'll take the number 7, please! The hot cocoa!❞
❝I asked for hot cocoa! Not a fucking demon!❞
★彡 HOT COCOA彡★
In life, we face many, many trials and tribulations. Some more than others. Abuse, poverty, sexism, racism, war, genocide, and...
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❝i call the bathroom first!❞
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Stan woke up with a groan. 'God, it's only Tuesday.' he thought to himself, crawling out of bed.
"OH SHIT, IT'S TUESDAY!" he screeched, quickly getting dressed. Today was the day they all met up at the diner and all the new kids showed up. To say he was nervous was an understatement. What if these Hawkins kids gave him a tough time just like here in Derry? It made his stomach churn just thinking about it.
Stan was about to leave the house but paused when he heard his name, "STANLEY!" his father yelled. The curly headed boy sighed and walked to his father's closed study door.
He hated going into his father's study. It was dark, creepy, and not to mention had a terrifying picture of a woman on the wall.
"STANLEY!" his father yelled once more. Stan quickly opened the door, trying not to look at the painting. Every time he did, he got freaked out. It was like it was staring at him.
"Yes, father," Stan answered quietly, eyes down.
His father, Donald Uris, didn't even look at his son. He just continued to work, not missing a beat, "Did you complete your assignments for Temple later today?"
(okay, a quick note. i know little to nothing about jewish culture, so i apologize in advance if half the shit i write is fucking wrong. i am trying my hardest to be extremely accurate but since i'm a christian and i barely go to church at that, i suck. so yeah, bare with me. okay, read on.)
"Yes, father." Stan sighed.
"Good. I have more assignments for you." Donald said, pulling out a thick packet. Stan's eyes widened as his father placed the packet into his arms.
"I want it done by tomorrow. Now, off to school." and went back to his work.
"B-But, how am I supposed to get all of this done by tomorrow!? I have other school work to complete!"
Donald slowly put down his pen and looked at his son with a cold stare, it made Stanley shiver.
"Find a way, Stanley. Get out."
Stanley sighed, "Yes, father." and quickly scurried out of the study. He stuffed the ridiculous packet into his bookbag, grumbling, and was soon off to the Denbrough residence.
Donald was always extremely hard on Stan. There was tons of stress on his shoulders. The stress of trying to be the best student, the best son, the best friend, it was hard and it was starting to take over him.
