Last Summer - South Park [Style]

SIX [snow]

Changed the name from Mer(men) to Last Summer + new cover. If you are enjoying the story so far, please share it with a friend. x

2027

The supermarket seems humongous and bright next to the dull street lights shimmering dusty orange jelly onto the car park. He feels a car key in his hand and once he looks to his right, he sees a black Audi standing there. His face reflects in the clean window but what Stan sees makes him jump. It's him. But also not. He touches his face. It's edgier than usual, his eye bags shimmer purple and his fingers glide over sharp stubbles. The hair on his head is shorter and his lips cracked. He looks older. Stan's legs feel weak and he has to lean against the car - his car - to stop himself from falling over. He is dreaming. But how can he be aware of it? Something plops into his mind. Lucid dreaming. Kenny had once explained it to him. A state your body can be in where you're aware that you are sleeping and you can control the dream as you wish. Stan had never experienced lucid dreams before. And he didn't expect them to be this realistic. Too realistic for his taste.

D. C. was the city he chose to start over. He didn't know why, it had just felt right to come here and forget everything that had caused this overwhelming, numbing pain that had sent his body and mind into a constant state of exhaustion. Luckily he had found a job quickly and now everything seems to fall back into place. But the pain is still there.

Stan's fingers dig themselves into the black paint of his car until his knuckles turn white. He can barely stand on his own now. What did just happen? It felt like a wave of memories was flooding his brain but those memories weren't his. No, they were. But not the ones of 17 year old Stan. He'd never been to D.C. and what pain did the voice mean? He must be dreaming about his own future. His face, the car, the memories, it seems like a story set 5 or 10 years ahead of his time. And then Stan notices that he remembers quite a lot of things that are completely new to him. He is 25, works as a dietitian, he lives in a small apartment with his Australian Sheperd Toby, his sister is married and he has a busted leg, which is why he had to give up on Football. Great. Luckily this is just a dream. The feeling of his stomach rumbling pulls him out of his thoughts.

Sushi and beer. Toilet paper. Treats for Toby.

Okay, a shopping list. He tries to stand back up again and takes a big breath. Fine. He'll play along and fulfill the quest. Stan makes sure the car is locked and then starts walking towards the supermarket.

AXE?

Oh god, did he really turn into one of those guys using AXE bodysprays? He sends a no AXE to his brain and enters the supermarket. It is huge.

He's never been to this area before but he met a new client today. Usually he makes a home visit for the first meeting to get an idea of their surroundings and habits. He has to hurry though, the supermarket will close in twenty minutes.

Stan tries to push away the discomfort he feels while listening to his own thoughts. So the quest has a time limit, that's a nice touch. He finds the sushi and the beer quiet quickly but catches himself looking for the calories. God. He feels a bit lost with the dog treats. He's only had one dog, Sparky, when he was still in elementary school and who knows if Toby likes the same things. How old is Toby? Is he a puppy, a grown dog or a fragile senior? Strangely the voice in his head doesn't know. Fuck it, Stan thinks, it's just a dream, and he grabs a bag labeled Sensitive. That should do it. The last thing on his mental list is toilet paper.

AXE.

No goddammit, shut the fuck up!

He grabs a pack of 6 and goes to one of the cash registers. The line is short, in front of him are an old man buying juice and dark chocolate and a pregnant latina who is handing over her credit card. Money. Stan's hands rush over the ass pockets of his jeans but he finds his wallet in his leather jacket instead, next to his phone. Right. He is an adult now. He looks inside. 30 dollars, an ibuprofen, his apartment keys and a picture of his dog. Okay, he's pretty cute but he would have expected to find a picture of his friends as well. He usually always has one with him. Or doesn't he have any friends in this alternate reality?

Only Dave from work and the old Mrs. Anderson above him.

Wow. What a roast. What about Kenny? Is he not part of this dream? He thought lucid dreams are controllable. So Stan decides that Kenny is his friend as well.

No, he is not.

He bites his lower lip. That sentence he wasn't only forced to think. He also felt it in his heart. Ouch. "$14.98, paying with cash or by card?" The voice tears him out of his thoughts and when he looks up his eyes widen in shock. "Kyle!?" The young man freezes for a second. "Do I know you?" What? No. No! Yes of course you do, you idiot! "I-" "Wait, do you..." He looks around and then leans forward a bit. "... want to buy something?" What? "Yes?" He's in a supermarket after all. With groceries. At the cash register. What else could he want? Climb onto the counter and throw dog treats at the other customers like a monkey does with its own feces? "Alright. My shift's nearly over. Meet me in half an hour behind the containers." Stan doesn't know what he is talking about but nods anyway. "So cash or card?" He looks at his groceries and then pulls out the money with his trembling fingers.

The air is cold and the intruder in his brain keeps reminding him that Toby is probably very hungry right now and that Stan would rather be at any other place than here, waiting for Kyle. When he saw him, his heart shattered into a million pieces and a pain deeper than anything he'd ever felt before had taken over his body. Was that the same pain that made him move to D.C.? "So, how much?" Stan jumps a little, he hadn't heard Kyle's approaching footsteps but now he stands there, right in front of him, his hands burried in the pockets of his oversized hoodie. "How much of what?" A confused frown iscdrawn onto Kyle's face. "Weed, duh. I thought you wanted to buy some." The air gets stuck in Stan's throat. Why would Kyle ever sell weed? "I...no I wanted...I..." "Ah. He hasn't told you yet. I don't sell snow anymore. He cut the supply chain after he noticed that I kept stuff for myself. I need some too. Do you have some?" Only know he realizes that Kyle seems nervous. And that the bags under his eyes are even bigger than his own. The skin has an unhealthy pale colour and he isn't just slim anymore, he is skinny. Kyle seems to be drowning in that hoodie like a beautiful but pained zombie. His eyes, that Stan loves to stare into are dull, like the street lights. How did he not notice all of these things earlier? "I haven't had some in way too long, I was barely able to get up today. Seriously dude, if you have some, I'll pay you good money. I'll give you double the price, please!" "I don't...I don't have any cocaine. Sorry." Kyle's face changes into anger. "Well then what do you want? Fuck off! And tell him to suck my ass, that bitch is a monster." Tears crawl into Stan's eyes. He can't stand seeing Kyle like this any longer. How did this happen? How did this sweet boy turn into a cocaine addict? What kind of fucked up dream is this? "Dude, GO!" He slowly turns around and walks away, he wants to run, away from this horrifying scene but his legs are too heavy. When he finally reaches his car, he grabs his key and opens the door to sit down. When he touches the steering wheel his stomach turns upside down and the colours fade out into black.