Art by: Burquillos (via tumblr)
Edited to become cover by me.
Stan Marsh is 19 years old and suffering from depression and self-harm. He has been for a few years now, and it's become too much. Thanks to those around him, he's on the road to recovery...
{What you're about to read is going to be graphic in a sexual nature. No actions will be directly written, but please read at your discretion.}
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I have to write it down. As much as remembering hurts, I might forget again. I need to remember somehow. I have to.
-
Kyle kissed me on the lips with love and passion, holding me around the waist. When he pulled back, he said, "Thanks for the good luck kiss, chickadee~!"
"You're welcome," I replied with a wink. I pecked him on the lips again unable to stop myself. "You're going to win. I have a great feeling!"
After a few more kisses, the coach called Kyle over, scolding him for being all lovey dovey with me. He ignored him and blew me another kiss.
I laughed some before going back to join our friends, Kenny, Butters, Craig, Tweek, and Token at the bleachers. After awhile, I saw the goth kids walk into the gym. While most of the group seemed uninterested in everyone there, Pete seemed to look straight through me with his dark eyes. If looks could kill..
I scooted closer to Kenny and tried to distract myself as the goths past us up the bleachers. They usually would hang out at the very top watching everyone . below. I had no idea why they were even here. The Goths hated any kind of school event and always made everyone know about it. All they were going to do was smoke weed, drink coffee, and complain about "conformists."
The game started.
Kyle seemed to know exactly what he was doing as he dribbled, passed, and feinted with the ball. I didn't understand much with this sport since I sucked at it, but at least I knew enough to what Kyle was doing and be able to follow the game.
Before I knew it, the Cows were beating out the Bulldogs 24 - 8. I grabbed my wallet and looked to Kenny and Butters.
"I'm going to get a snack. You guys wanna come with me?" I asked.
"I'm good," Kenny said.
Butters stood up. "I'll go! I want some ice cream," he said eagerly.
After Butters extracted himself from Kenny's hold, the two of us went to the concessions line which had already grown in size. I held onto my wallet tightly with Butters at my side. As if on cue, I had to take a piss. My bladder was betraying our need for a snack! It didn't help that during the first half of the game, I swallowed an entire bottle of water to ease my dry mouth.
I handed Butters a ten dollar bill and asked him to please order me maltesers, a vanilla coke, and a plate of nachos. He agreed and I walked off to the bathroom. I told him I'd meet him at the bleachers.
-
The toilet flushed with a loud swish and hiss followed by the sound of my zipper going up. Much better. I walked over to the sinks and began to wash my hands when the door was slammed opened then shut with the same force.
