Dear Stan Marsh

Kyle's Letters #6:

Rape mention below:

The clock kept ticking to a steady beat. It was the only thing reminding me that this was real, that I was here. I read Stan's entry. I read every word and was sick to my stomach. I couldn't stop myself from crying as I reread each word, praying and hoping it wasn't real. I knew it had happened. I remember it happening. I blamed myself for doing nothing, for saying nothing. At least, that's what it felt like. I had gone to the police, tried to make a statement, but without Stan's testimony or any identity of who attacked him there wasn't anything they could do. Stan's mind suppressed it all, and there wasn't any way to help him without hurting him. I should have done something sooner. I should have-

"Kyle?"

I looked up to see Stan's therapist, Ruth Ann, standing there before me. I don't know how long she had been there, standing in front of me in the waiting room. There was a look of concern on her face, since I said this was an emergency. I got up and followed her back to her office. We sat in silence for awhile before I had to force the words out of my mouth.

"He was raped."

It was real now. I said it and it was real.

"He..he was raped and I didn't do anything about it. I tried, but, he forgot and, I thought it would be better if-"

"If he didn't remember?" She asked.

I nodded, the tears running down my cheeks. The guilt was unbearable and I broke down crying. Ruth Ann got up from her chair and came over bringing me into a hug without a word.

"I should have done more! I should have found out sooner! I could have helped him and I could have-"

"Kyle, it's okay. You did it because you thought it was the best thing to do to help him. What's done is done and can't be changed. All we can do is try to help him heal and recover. I know how much you love him. You're here every day to see him and you're always volunteering your time to help us out. We can get through this."

She went back to her seat and I tried to wipe the tears from my cheeks, but I just couldn't stop even with her comforting words. No amount of comforting could ever get this guilt off my shoulders.

"I talked to Stan's other doctor and we actually were considering letting him go."

"What? Really?"

"He's been improving greatly in his behaviors and now that some of this information has been coming to light slowly, bit by bit, I've been able to help work him through it. He might still have some self-destructive tendencies, but he's definitely no longer a suicide threat. He's become much more stable."

"But, he wrote out the entire thing and he's gotta be hurting so badly! God, he's going to be so angry with me if he finds out I knew. Fuck, can I please just see him?" I asked desperately. She smiled some as if she knew I was going to ask that.

"Of course. After all, it's soon your normal visiting time. I would think Stan would be counting every second until you get there." I don't know if this was her attempt to make me laugh or at least be amused, but it was hard to be. All I could do was give a weak chuckle and smile before I got up and followed her out. I couldn't let Stan know I was crying. I was the strong one after all. I had to be his anchor to keep him grounded. I can't lose myself when he needs me.

I went through all the normal motions. Signing in, getting cleared, going into the main entertainment/visiting room. I didn't see him waiting for me like normal, so I headed down the hall towards his room. I had a brief thought about Tweek and Craig as I passed Tweek's new room. I hadn't been visiting him since everything went to shit. I'd have to make sure Tweek was doing well later. It's only nice as a friend after all.

I knocked on Stan's door.

"Chickadee?" I called in sweetly. "It's me."

There was no answer.

"Stan? It's Kyle, can I come in?"

Nothing.

I turned the door knob and opened the door, afraid of what kind of pitiful state I'd find my best friend in. He would be crying, sobbing, maybe just silent with fear from the memories. I was ready to hold him and comfort him for as long as needed. I'd be his rock. I wouldn't let anyone harm him anymore.

What I saw inside wasn't anything I had been psyching myself up for.

Stan was gone.