WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?
Nine-year-old Stan Marsh could not believe it; it was Friday morning and he was late to school, again. Monday didn't count; he just recovered from a cold so he walked into Mr. Garrison's class only an hour later. Wednesday shouldn't have been his fault either but Shelley had to lock him out of the house when he remembered he forgot his homework inside. But today… he could have blamed himself for waking up late due to a broken alarm and looking all over the house for a missing shoe. By the time he finally got out of the house the bus had already left and both his parents had to go to work early and could not drop him off. So as Stan hurried his little body to South Park Elementary, he knew full-well that this time Mr. Garrison would not at all be sympathetic.
The streets were pretty busy due to the usual busy morning schedules of the towns' people. Stan checked his watch, only five minutes left before he would be called out again for his late absence. He was running along so quickly he ran into a pair of legs. He looked up to see a pretty scruffy-looking man looking at him.
"Sorry," Stan said in a quick breath. He was just about to go off again when the man held him up.
"Hey little boy, do you have a couple extra quarters I can use for the bus?" the man asked.
"Wait!" he halted him again.
"I have to get to school!"
"Can you at least tell me the directions to Henry's Supermarket? See, I'm new here and"-
"Sorry, I don't have time"-
The man blinked. "It will only take a second."
Stan eyed the man in the dirty faded jacket old boots and unkempt, gray hair and beard. There were leaves in the beard as well and he kept one hand in his pocket. He didn't trust him for that very reason.
"Really sir, I have to get to school."
"Please little boy, all I need are directions." He took a step forward.
Stan began to walk again. "Sorry- I'm late to school."
"Do you not trust me?"
"Really sir- school"- with one last nervous look to the man, Stan ran out of sight.
The man in the dirty jacket watched him as he went with his arms behind his back. He studied Stan, rubbed his chin with a hard, thinking look before walking into the shadows of the trees behind.
Stan was out of breath by the time he hurried into Mr. Garrison's classroom, and as he suspected, he was not at all pleased.
"Just where the hell were you Stanley?" Mr. Garrison demanded.
"W- was late. Woke- woke up late," Stan rasped.
"Well take a seat Mister. You just screwed up the grammar morning warm-up, I hope you're happy!"
"Sorry…" Stan took his usual seat next to Cartman and Cylde.
"Dude, why were you late again?" Kyle asked his best friend during recess.
"I told you, I woke up late. And I would have gotten hear earlier if some crazy homeless guy didn't stop me," Stan said as he hung his body over the bars of the jungle gym.
"Some homeless guy held you up?"
"Yeah. He looked real crazy. Asked for change for the bus then the directions to the supermarket. He was walking towards me with a hand in his pocket. No way was I going to help him out."
"Yeah, good thing you didn't," Kyle agreed.
Stan was then hit suddenly with a huge headache. He gripped his head and gritted his teeth in pain before it past.
"Dude! Are you okay?" Kyle panicked.
Stan frowned. That was weird. He let out a shaky breath. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."
"Really, don't worry about it."
But by the time school was over the headache only worsened. With that he also felt sick to his stomach. He hoped his cold wasn't coming back. He lazily dropped his backpack to the floor when he walked into the front door of his home. His mother Sharon poked her head from the kitchen to greet him.
"Hello Stanley. How was school?"
"Been better. Mom, I think my cold is coming back," he answered.
"What? But you've been feeling fine all week."
"Yeah well my head hurts like hell. I just don't feel too good in general."
Sharon felt his forehead. "Hm… you don't feel warm. But let's check just in case…"
She took his temperature and read the digital numbers. "You don't have a fever, honey."
Suddenly the room lilted in Stan's eyes and he fell to his side. He gripped onto the carpet, waiting for everything to stop spinning. He finally gave up and threw-up his lunch.
"Oh dear! I didn't know you were feeling that bad. Come on, let's get you to bed," Sharon spoke and lifted him to his feet.
After a clean shirt and brushing his teeth, Stan got into bed, rubbing his eyes and gritting his teeth.
"You tell me if you need anything, anything at all, all right sweetie?" Sharon told him before shutting his door.
Stan lay on his side. Why was the world still spinning? He never felt this dizzy before. Hoping it would go away soon; he closed his eyes and tried to focus on other things. Unfortunately he stayed sick in bed the rest of the evening. His head still hurt and he didn't think he could stomach any dinner. It really blew because he was planning on seeing a movie with his friends and Kyle was to come over after dinner to play video games, which he still did do.
"I don't think Stan is feeling too well to play Kyle," Sharon told him when she answered his knocking on the door.
"He still has a headache?"
"Damn, he had one all day at school."
"Maybe you can come tomorrow?"
Kyle looked up to see the bedroom light on in Stan's bedroom. "Well, if it's just a headache… it's not really contagious. We'll only be playing video games…"
Sharon thought. "Well, fine, but I don't want your mother blaming me if you get sick too."
Kyle smiled and nodded and stopped inside the house and went into his best friend's room.
"Still feel like sh*t?" Kyle asked.
"Yeah. It's not a cold again, these are different symptoms."
"That sucks dude."
"Can people catch two different illnesses in one week?"
Kyle shrugged. "Feel up to playing X-box?"
Stan grinned. "Always."
The video games did help a bit and by the time Kyle left Stan was a bit happier, but not any closer to feeling physically better. Sharon took his temperature again when she tucked him in for the night.
"Still nothing. I'm sure it'll go away tomorrow Stanley. Just get some sleep, all right hon?"
"Mom? Can I have a story?" Stan asked innocently.
She smiled. She couldn't remember a single day in his whole life in which she had not read to him when he felt sick. She sat on his bed and pulled out Tommy and the Sea Monster and began to read. After, she set the book on his nightstand and kissed him good-night.
"You'll feel better tomorrow," Sharon said again before leaving.
Stan did fall into a heavy sleep that night, that was for sure. When the morning arose, the sunlight poking in his eyelids, he woke up. The first thing he noticed was his headache was indeed gone. Also, it seemed like he was no longer on a rocking boat. Mom was right, again, Stan thought to himself. He turned to his side and saw that the Tommy and the Sea Monster book was no longer on his bedside table which was weird, his mom never put away the books she read to him. Shrugging, he sat up. That's when he realized he was wearing a different pajama top than last night too. No longer was it his favored Terrance and Phillip top but a rather large faded shirt that read Meat is Murder! That was funny, where had that shirt come from? Not only did no one in his family own such a shirt, he would have known if his mom or someone else put on a different pajama top on him in the middle of the night, he was after all a very light sleeper.
But it didn't stop there- his whole room for the matter was different. The walls were still purple and he still slept in the same bed but all around his room where books and what-not about animals, and on his walls posters and charts about animals.
Okay… this is a little weird now, Stan thought slowly. He loved animals, always had, but he didn't recognize any of this. Was it some joke or something? He growled deeply. Cartman had probably done this; he always gave him sh*t for being a little animal-loving pussy. Trust him to really show it by decorating his room like this. He probably even took pictures of it too and put it on the internet so everyone in school would see what a hippie he really was. Angry, Stan went downstairs for breakfast to see if his parents knew anything about this.
He sat down across from his sister Shelley and a minute later Sharon set a plate of eggs and waffles for him and orange juice.
"Good morning sweetie," she kissed his cheek. "Feel any better from last night?"
"Yeah, a whole lot better. You were right," he answered as he dug into his food. "Mom? Where's Dad?"
"Oh, he went out early this morning to be with your Uncle Jimbo for the day so it's just us. I'm sorry, I knew you kids wanted to be with him today," Sharon looked sympathetic.
Stan raised a brow. "Er, not really."
Sharon only laughed.
"Um, Mom? Why is my room covered in all these animals posters and charts and whatnot?"
Both Sharon and Shelley shared a look.
"Why because you love animals silly," his mother answered, taking a seat next to him.
"I know but, I never owned any of those things in my room. I don't recognize any of it."
Sharon looked at him funny. "But it's your room Stan; it's been that way for years."
"No it hasn't!"
"Maybe you aren't quiet well yet," Sharon touched his forehead but he brushed it aside.
"And what's with this shirt?" he showed her his Meat is Murder pajama shirt.
Now his mom and sister really looked confused.
"That was your fathers but, after he gave up trying to be a vegetarian, he gave it to you."
Stan almost choked on his eggs. "What? Dad- a vegetarian? No."
"Well we all tried to go vegetarian a couple years back. You're the only one who stuck with it."
"The only time I ever tried going vegetarian was last year when I tried to rescue baby cows. It didn't work out because I caught a pretty serious disease, vaginitis," Stan explained.
"What? You never caught such a thing," Sharon told him.
"Yes I did! God Damnit, what is going on here?"
"I don't think you're fully healthy yet Stanley. I know you by now, you always try to act healthier than you are. But Mister, I think you're still sick."
Stan looked at her with an open mouth. "I feel fine Mom."
"I won't hear a word of it. After breakfast I want you to get back up to bed."
Stan could have knocked over his plate in frustration. He was feeling completely normal!
"God Damnit… can I just have some bacon to go with my eggs, please?"
At this Sharon almost choked on her food.
"You didn't just say that," Shelley told him.
"What are everyone's problems today?" Stan cried.
"Stanley, you haven't eaten meat for almost two years now…" Sharon told him.
"Yes I have! I am not a vegetarian!"
"But you are," Shelley said.
"I am not!"
"Oh, I know you wish you weren't sometimes. No doubt you get sick more often than any of the kids in class because of it, but sweetie, you don't eat meat."
"I do too! I'll show you!" Stan raced into the kitchen and found a can of bacon bits. He took out a handful and ate them.
"No," Sharon gasped.
"See? I eat meat!"
Sharon got up and took the bacon bits from his hand. "I want you to go to bed now Stanley."
Growling, Stan marched back upstairs. He sat on his bed, his mind racing. Why were his mom and sister acting this way? Was this all some elaborate joke? It couldn't be, his family wasn't big on pulling pranks. Then what was it? Stan angrily took off his shirt and threw it on the floor. He did not like to be messed with and right now, he was really being played the fool. Ten minutes later Sharon walked in. She felt his forehead again.
"Why are you acting this way?" she asked, sitting next to him.
"Why are you acting this way?"
"You don't feel warm. Let me take you temperature to be sure…"
Stan moved away from her hand when she tried to stick the thermometer in his mouth.
"I feel fine Mom! Now answer me this: why the hell are you and Shelley acting so weird around me? Why is my room this way? Why everything!"
Sharon set the thermometer aside. "I don't know what to say to you Stanley except you are the one acting funny."
"It's Cartman isn't it? He convinced you all to pull a real funny prank on me to make me look stupid didn't he?" Stan demanded.
"Eric Cartman? No, he didn't do anything."
"Then why Goddamnit is"-
She put her fingers over his lips and tucked him in despite his flailing about.
"Now I want you to get some sleep. Perhaps you'll start to remember things when you wake up. I'll be back up by lunch time."
She kissed him and stepped out. Stan angrily stared up at his ceiling. Maybe she was right; maybe he still wasn't feeling well even though he thought he did. Hoping he was delirious, Stan had no choice but to fall back asleep and hope that the next time he woke up, things would be the way he knew they were.
Hope you liked it so far. Please tell me what you think!
I ship: Stan/Cartman <3
Sharon: What is it honey? (gasp!) My baby's killed again!
Haa, I love that line.
THIS IS NOT MY FAMILY!
Around 12:30 Sharon went up to her son's bedroom again to see if he was feeling any better. She opened the door and shook him awake. Stan turned over to see his mother looking at him. He sighed, maybe now things were back to normal.
"How are you feeling now hon?" Sharon asked him.
"Better. I had the weirdest dream Mom. I woke up and everything was different. Well, not everything but my room for one was really different. There were these animal posters and books I've never seen and then you told me Dad tried to be a vegetarian and that I was…" Stan said, lying on his side.
Sharon frowned. "Well, I don't know what to tell you except all of that happened this morning."
"Huh? Wait- don't tell me…" Stan shot up and realized his room had not changed at all. He was still staring into the face of a lion in the Serengeti across his bed that bore the words: This is my Kingdom! He realized he still wasn't wearing a shirt after taking the Meat is Murder! one off hours ago. He looked up at his mom with frightful eyes. "Mom, am- am I still a vegetarian?"
"You are, you have been for two years now, remember?" she answered.
Stan felt the color drain from his face. He banged his head against his nightstand, hoping he'd wake from this nightmare. It had to be a joke, all of this, one long, cruel joke. Why wasn't he waking from it then?
"Stan- Stanley- don't do that," Sharon said finally, and moved him off his bed. "C'mon, let's go downstairs for some lunch. I'm making all your favorites today."
Favorites… his favorites included meatloaf and chicken and cheeseburgers and bacon, not whatever she made most likely. He was semi-right; she had made tomato soup with a side of toast. It wasn't as if he hated tomato soup, it was his favorite whenever he was sick so he ate it without complaint. Snack was the first real good thing that day- a few homemade peanut butter cookies and milk. But the whole while he ate, Stan's mind drifted off. If he couldn't get out of this life, if this really wasn't a joke, what in the world was he supposed to do about it? He couldn't just pretend this was how things always were. Something familiar had to show up soon. A walk, visiting his friends… that was sure to add a dash of reality back into things on this very odd day. He pushed aside his empty plate of cookies.
"Mom, is it all right if I took a walk?"
Sharon bit her lip. "I don't know Stanley; I'm still not convinced you're feeling well enough."
"I- I am. Please, just a short walk?"
"Well, fine. No more than an hour. I want you home today."
Thankfully Stan found his normal outfit of jeans, t-shirt and brown and red coat and poofball hat in his closet before running out the door. He hurried two streets down to the Broflovski house. He impatiently banged on the door but no one answered. C'mon Kyle, I need you now more than ever, he thought impatiently. After a minute he gave up and went around back to take a peak into the sliding glass door. The kitchen was empty and the whole house seemed dark. It looked as if they weren't home. Angry, Stan had only one other option- Cartman's. He ran back to his own street and eight houses down and knocked on there. Thankfully the door opened with Liane Cartman.
"Oh, hello Stanley."
"Is Cartman home?" Stan asked. "It's important."
"Sorry dear. He won't be back until Monday."
"Damnit!" Stan racked his brains. Kenny… he ran to Kenny's house only to find he wasn't there either. The last friend he could think of was Butters so he ran as fast as he could there. He only had twenty minutes left till he was expected home again.
"Oh, h- hello Stan," Butters said nervously when he answered the door.
"Butters, I need to talk to you- now!"
"Why uh, I don't know…"
"Butters! Are you talking to anyone outside?" rang the voice of his father behind him.
"Don't 'no Dad' me! Shut the door now!"
Butters rubbed his hands together. "Sorry Stan but I can't talk today. I'm grounded. See you M- Monday." With that he quickly shut the door.
Well, at least that part's still the same, Stan thought bitterly. But he had run out of resources. There wasn't any reason to be outside anymore so he walked home, head held low. When he was home he found his sister at the dining room table working on a puzzle.
"How was your walk?" she asked him.
Stan looked up. Shelley's voice had never sounded so calm before.
"Fine…" he said dully.
Shelley frowned as she looked at her little brother. He seemed troubled and was obviously not feeling well today. She got off her chair, walked over and hugged him. Stan yelped and struggled in her arms.
"What the f*ck are you doing?" he cried.
She just squeezed him more; he moved his body wildly, not used to this from her at all and it was freaking him out. She finally let him go when she noticed he was acting this way.
"Why the f*ck did you do that?" Stan asked, eyes wide.
"I- I just thought you might need a hug."
"You seem so down today, I only wanted to"-
"Mom! MOOOOM!" Stan screamed.
"Yes?" Sharon came running from the kitchen.
"She- she- she hugged me!" Stan pointed a finger at his sister.
"Oh, well that was a sweet thing for her to do."
Stan could have ripped his hair out at this point. "She never hugs me!"
"Well, no doubt you don't like it but Stanley, Shelley loves you," Sharon told him, placing a hand on his shoulder but he backed away.
"No, no way in hell. She doesn't love me, she hates me!"
Shelley looked upset. "I don't hate you Stan!"
"You do so! You've been teasing me and picking on me and beating me up since day one!"
Shelley had tears in her eyes now. "I was just trying to make you feel better little brother."
"No- no- no way in hell. The Shelley I know does not hug me. She doesn't do a single nice thing to me!"
Shelley sniffed and sat on the sofa, dabbing at her eyes. Sharon was not pleased.
"Stanley, I want you in your room right now young man." She pointed to the stairs.
"But I didn't"-
"Now Stanley!" Sharon snapped.
Stan slowly made his way to his bedroom, his mind in a fog. What did he do? Sharon sat next to her daughter and rubbed her arm.
"What happened dear?"
"Nothing. I was just try-ing to make him feel better. He's been so w-weird today."
Sharon kissed her. "Don't worry; I'm sure he's still sick. He'll be better soon. I'll go talk to him."
Stan sat on his bed, head in his hands. Could today get anymore confusing? His mother walked in yet again that day. He moved away from her.
"Stan- Stanley, listen to me. Now."
He glared at her.
"What on earth was all that about?"
"If you think I'm going to believe for a minute that Shelley is usually nice to me I'm jumping out my window."
"Well she is and you know it."
Stan just moaned and put his head in his knees.
"Your sister loves you honey. She can't go a day without hugging you. Of course you don't like it much and always roll your eyes at it, but I know deep down you're happy your sister loves you. It's much better than having an older sister who picks on your right?" Sharon said upbeat.
"All my life I thought so but it's what I'm used to, so no, it's not better," Stan mumbled.
Sharon looked at him. "So you're saying that your sister picks on you?"
"All the time Mom, Jesus! I mean, I know you and Dad don't notice half the time but she does. And you've called her out on it plenty of times in the past."
"Well I don't know what to tell you Stan except as far as I remember, your sister loves you very much."
"I- well, except for the fact that she hugged you, I have plenty of proof. But first things first, I want you to apologize to her, you really hurt her for pushing her away like that, Stan," Sharon explained.
"Prove that she loves me and I'll think about it," Stan said again.
Sharon gave him a look before leaving the room and coming back minutes later with a box. She pulled out a picture at random. "See here? It's when you were only one week old and she was holding you. Look at how happy she looks to have a baby brother!"
Stan looked at the picture. "I recognize that picture already so you're going to have to do better than that."
"Well, all right then. How 'bout this one?" she showed him a picture of Shelley hugging Stan at his first birthday.
"Next," Stan said slowly.
Sharon riffled through the box. "Oh! This one is very cute"- she showed him a picture of an eight-year-old Shelley with a four-year-old Stan in her arms during Christmas, both were wearing Santa hats and had large smiles on their faces.
Stan felt weak now.
"And look at her memory book she made in kindergarten. Look at what she wrote for her thanksgiving message: 'My name is Shelley Marsh and the thing I am most thankful for is my one-year-old brother Stan. He makes me smile every day. The day he was brought home from the hospital was the happiest day of my life.'"
Stan's stomach was doing flip-flops now. "Take- take it away."
Sharon set the box down. "There's more proof but all right."
Stan gripped his hat in frustration. "I- I don't understand any of this. None of this makes sense. None of it. I mean Shelley hugged me. She hugged me Mom. I can't remember the last time she did."
Sharon had tears in her eyes.
"The last time she did was last Christmas for family photos but after they were taken, she gave me a bloody nose!"
Sharon rubbed his arm. "What is the matter with you Stanley?"
"I don't know. I don't know!" he cried.
She hugged him and tucked him into bed again. "You must have amnesia or something. I want you to stay in bed the rest of the day. Maybe you'll remember more once your father comes home tonight."
Stan doubted this. He had a feeling the Randy Marsh who would be walking into the house later would be smart and calm and not drink. He didn't want to see him. Sharon kissed his temple.
"If you need anything just shout." She walked out the door.
Once again Stan had no choice but to spend the hours away in bed. He didn't get up to look for anything else familiar in his room for fear that everything would be different. He just laid in bed staring into space, waiting for something, anything, that was the way he knew it to be. It was dark when his door opened and his parents stepped in.
"Why is it so dark in here?" were the first words Stan heard out of his father's mouth.
Nobody answered so Randy clicked on the familiar Denver Broncos lamp on Stan's nightstand and the room was cast it it's now unfamiliar glow. Randy took the chair from Stan's desk over and sat on it, facing him.
"Your mother told me you haven't been feeling well today Stan," Randy said.
Stan didn't say anything. It was not even a full day yet but he knew by now to expect the unexpected.
"Stan?" Randy touched his arm and Stan stiffened. "What's wrong pal?"
Pal… his dad's pet name for him. Stan had to face him now. "Nothing's wrong," he whispered.
"You've been sick in bed all day," Randy told him.
"I'm not sick. I feel fine."
"That's not what your mother told me."
"I feel just like I always do you guys. I'm not too hot or too cold, I don't have a fever, my stomach doesn't hurt, I don't ache anywhere… I'm not sick," Stan said flatly.
Randy and Sharon shared a look.
"Your mom thinks you might have amnesia."
Stan opened his mouth but shut it. "I- I don't know. I- I don't think I do. I know how things really are Dad, I know it. I haven't forgotten anything. Things are just- different from how they were yesterday."
"How were things yesterday?" Sharon asked.
"I was late for school. I had a normal day at school, hung out with my friends, then had a major headache. It didn't go away at all so Mom read me a story last night, I feel asleep, and then woke up here."
Sharon touched her son's hand. "Sweetie, I haven't read you a bedtime story for a year now."
Stan groaned and turned to his side. "But you do Mom, you do. Every Tuesday and Thursday night and whenever I'm feeling sick."
Randy sighed and sat up. "Well dinner's on son if you're hungry." He left the room.
"Mom? You said this morning I was sick, that I went to bed sick. Do you remember what I was sick with?" Stan asked carefully.
"You had a major headache like you just told us hon."
"Do you want dinner?"
Stan shook his head no.
"Are you sure? It's your favorite, tofu burgers. And I made some yummy brownies for dessert!" Sharon tried to smile.
Stan could almost barf then and there at the thought of eating tofu. His mother left the room again, leaving him to his thoughts yet again. From what he gathered now, his mother seemed just like she was the way he remembered her, yet giving him false memories. Shelley apparently loved her little brother to death. His dad- he couldn't tell just yet if he were any different. Stan fell asleep shortly after, hoping and praying to any god out there that his life would be back to normal in the morning.
Again, please tell me what you think
I ship: Stan/Cartman <3
Sharon: What is it honey? (gasp!) My baby's killed again!
Haa, I love that line.
interesting its getting more interesting as it goes on there are parts that feel like its dragging on but i cant say thats a good nor a bad thing its just something people have to look out for. i do comics for instance i have to always cut things down or reorganize a scene so it doesnt drag and i throw in something to make it interesting. not sure how that would translate to writing since im not a great writer.
I am still lost i now have a new theory that he went to an alternate dimension and the other stan went to his or something. kinda like the "Evil" cartman episode. also one little thing i noticed you said "I feel asleep" now i dont know if you know this but that particular error made me laugh not because its wrong. i played the original Metal Gear for the NES and one of the guards acctually says "I feel asleep" so i found that amusing not at your expense at the Japanese people's expense i guess. i really cant wait for your next chapter.
To be honest your fan fic is the only one that seems to have a unique serious story. theres a lot of other funny fan fics but this is just a tone of its own and i love it. keep it up i give what i read so far a 4/5.
SO THIS IS HOW SCHOOL IS
For once in his life Stan couldn't wait for it to be Monday so he could get back to school. He hoped only his family was the ones acting odd and his friends were still the same. He spent most of his time in his room Sunday but by the time 7:30 in the morning rolled around the next day he was rejuvenated. Sharon didn't think he was well enough to go to school but he begged her to go. She gave in finally, but told him she would take him instead of him riding the bus. Stan finished his bowl of Cocoa Pebbles quickly and got dressed, brushed his teeth, and packed his backpack.
"I guess you really can't wait to go to school," Sharon noted.
"I can't. I can't wait to see my friends again."
Stan caught sight of his sister looking at him sadly when he opened the door to walk out. He did feel bad for her that she was upset, especially since it was his fault; he always tried hard to have her like him in his 'old' life, but to have her hug him again was too weird at the moment. He just waved a hand and got into the car.
"Be sure to go to the nurse's office if you're feeling sick okay? I'll pick you up right away," Sharon told him.
"I'll be fine Mom. Thanks." He got out the car and walked up the steps into South Park Elementary. He couldn't find any of his friends though so assumed they were talking in class. Stan walked over to room 17B, hoping it was still Mr. Garrison's class. He opened it and let out a relieved sign to find all his usual classmates inside, chatting. He immediately found Kyle who was talking with Craig.
"Kyle! Thank goodness!" Stan could have hugged his best friend right then and there, so happy to see him.
Kyle turned around. "Oh, hey."
"Dude, you have no idea what kind of weekend I had. I thought I was living in some fantasy world. Saturday morning I woke up and"-
"That's great Stan but I'm talking with Craig now," Kyle interrupted and turned around to face the boy in the blue hat with yellow puff on top.
Stan was taken aback. "I- sorry."
Cartman walked into the classroom next, and smiled at him. "Hey Stan."
"Oh, hey dude."
A minute later a bell was heard and Mr. Garrison walked in.
"All right children, take your seats. Hurry now."
Stan took his seat which thankfully was still between Cartman and Clyde. Mr. Garrison turned on the overhead projector and placed a sheet on it.
"I want you kids to find and correct all the mistakes in these sentences for the morning's warm-up. We'll go over them in ten minutes."
Stan did as he was told, happy to be doing something normal. What was even more normal was the fact that Kyle, Wendy, Token, and Butters were the only ones who gave out correct answers. The first two hours of school were very normal in fact. Although when the bell rang for recess Kyle did not hurry out like everyone else.
"Kyle, dude, let's go out," Stan told him.
"I'm staying behind to study more."
"It's fine Stanley, Kyle usually stays behind to study during recess. Run along," Mr. Garrison told him, shooing him out.
"What- but-?" surely this was a joke. But sadly, he saw Kyle open up the science book and began to read. Sighing, Stan walked out to have a very boring recess.
But he was about to get the biggest change of his life during lunch that day. He walked over to a table that held Kyle, Butters, Craig, and another boy with blond hair. That's when he gasped- the kid with the blond hair was Kenny! But where was his hood?
"K- Kenny"- Stan's mouth hung open.
"Why- why aren't you wearing your hood?"
Kenny frowned. "What hood?"
"The hood you always wear! The orange one!"
Kenny looked down at his jacket. "I wear my orange jacket every day if that's what you're talking about."
Stan could not believe it; Kenny was sitting at the lunch table with his face in full view. No mumbling. No anything. He even looked- happy. He gave Stan a funny look before digging into a paper bag and pulling out a sandwich. Stan shook his head but sat next to Kyle. He heard Kyle sigh and scoot an inch away.
Stan began on his own lunch now. "You have no idea the kind of crazy sh*t I've been through over the weekend Kyle," he began.
Kyle rolled his eyes. "And I really don't care."
"Why would I care about your weekend?"
"B- because we're friends," Stan trailed.
Again, Kyle rolled his eyes and took a sip from his milk carton.
"You have to listen to me dude"-
"Don't 'dude' me," Kyle bit back.
"Why the hell not? We're friends! Super best friends remember?" Stan strained the last word.
Kyle laughed now, Craig joining in. Stan slammed his sandwich down.
"Damnit what the hell is going on?"
At that moment Cartman walked over, lunch tray in his hand and sat across from Stan.
"What's so funny?" he asked.
"Stan here thinks we're super- super best friends!" Kyle cracked up.
Stan never felt so hurt before, this was Kyle, Kyle Broflovski- his best friend since he was three-and-a-half, laughing at him. Cartman sighed.
"Not this again. Don't listen to him Stan."
"But- but we're best friends…"
"No we aren't," Kyle glared.
"But- we are…"
"You may hang around us but we aren't friends."
This was more of a statement for the relationship between Kyle and Cartman, but not Kyle and himself. Stan looked around at the boys he was sitting with. He growled. "Then who the hell am I friends with here?"
"Well uh, I like hangin' with you Stan," Butters told him.
"So does Clyde but he's not here yet," Craig noted.
"I don't mind you either," Kenny shrugged.
"Do I have a best friend though?" Stan could feel his heart contracting madly now.
They looked around at each other. Cartman took a sip from his soda and answered, "Well, I guess you can say I am."
Stan felt his blood run cold. "No…"
"Well, you don't really have a 'best friend' but out of all of us, we're closest. I usually spend most of my time rescuing you from this assh*le," Cartman shot, thumb jerked at Kyle.
"Hey, I don't do sh*t okay? Stan's just lame."
"You're always giving him crap Kyle! All he wants to do is hang out and you make stupid excuses that you have to study!" Cartman yelled.
"I do have to study!"
"Not if your homework is finished. What's left to study?"
"I have to get top grades, not because my mom will flip a lid if I don't, but because I want to," Kyle glared as he ate.
Kyle and Cartman were arguing as usual but not about Jews or some evil scheme but over him, Stan. Because apparently Kyle wasn't that great a friend to him. Stan pushed his lunch away, not hungry anymore.
"You okay Stan?" Cartman asked, noticing this.
Stan was weirded out by his calm nature, just like when Shelley spoke to him. "I'm just not hungry."
He walked out of the cafeteria and outside, one of the first kids out for recess. More kids began to show up on the field and playground while he sat on the steps, head in hands, trying to prevent the stinging sensation to erupt in his eyes. Kyle wasn't his friend… he didn't like him. He thought he was lame. He didn't think he could handle anymore surprises. He put his face in his knees and wrapped his arms around them.
"Stan?" asked a voice. A hand lightly touched his shoulder and he jumped.
It was Cartman. He sighed. Cartman sat down next to him.
"Dude, don't listen to what Kyle said, he's just an ass."
Stan shook his head. "You don't get it. This isn't normal. I- I think I'm living some alternate lifestyle."
"What makes you say that?"
Stan rubbed his eyes. "I can't tell you."
"Why not? We're friends."
Stan sighed. "You don't understand. As far as I know, we never sit and just 'talk.'"
"Sure we do."
"Well I'm here now- talk," Cartman said simply.
"I- you- I just can't- what is going on here? I think I'm living someone else's life. This isn't me, what I know. I don't know what's going on."
"What are you talking about?"
Stan rubbed his eyes in frustration again. "I woke up Saturday morning to something different. Things are different from how I know them to be. I don't know what's going on but this isn't right. I don't care what you or anyone else says, I know what's normal. I know how everyone around me acts. And the last time I checked, Kyle was my best friend and you were the one who hung around us despite the tension," he explained.
Cartman frowned. "Really? But how can that be?"
"I don't know! I don't know how anything can be anything right now! None of this makes any sense!" Stan could kick at the railing next to him if he wasn't afraid he'd break his foot.
"Well, maybe you still have a headache. You had a pretty huge one Friday. Didn't eat much during lunch and made Mr. Garrison pretty angry with you before he had to leave class early."
Stan got to his feet. "I can't deal with this right now. Sorry." He went back inside the school to wait by the door to his classroom.
Unfortunately for Stan the surprises weren't going to stop by his relationship with his friends. During the last hour of school Mr. Garrison made a happy announcement.
"All right children, I have something to tell you that will make you very happy to wrap up today's lessons. I apologize that I had to leave class early Friday, being unable to wrap up the day with a cool science experiment, so I will be making it up today as a fun Monday experiment! Today, my wife is going to show you all how to make glow-in-the-dark slime!" Mr. Garrison smiled.
The whole class gasped in excitement; however the gasp that issued from Stan's mouth wasn't out of happiness but shock. He turned to Cartman.
"Did- did he say wife?"
"Yeah dude, Mr. Garrison's been married for years," Cartman waved a hand like it was no big deal.
"No- no, he's gay. He's gay."
"Don't say that Stan, Mr. Garrison is a cool teacher," Clyde turned around to face him.
"But he's gay," Stan whispered.
"Is there a problem Stanley?" Mr. Garrison asked, hands on hips.
"You're gay," Stan said, eyes wide.
The class gasped again, looking at the student now.
"What did you say?" Mr. Garrison glared.
"You're gay! You're gay!"
The door opened suddenly and a pretty blonde woman in her 40s walked in wearing a lab coat and a smile. She kissed Mr. Garrison.
"The kids are really excited about their lesson, Melissa," Mr. Garrison told her.
"Oh how wonderful!"
"But he's gay!" Stan pointed a finger at the teacher.
"One more remark like that and I'm sending your behind to the principle's office, you hear?" Mr. Garrison warned.
"This is a f*cking sick joke! All of you! Mr. Garrison is gay! He's the gayest man in this town!" Stan spoke.
Ten minutes later had Stan sitting in a chair behind Principal Victoria's desk, arms crossed over his body, scowling.
"This is just not like you Stanley. You've been in this office before certainly but not for calling out your own teacher!"
Stan didn't say anything.
"I phoned your mother Stanley, she's on her way here right now."
Stan groaned. Could today get any worse? Sharon was very displeased in her son when she found out what he had said.
"How could you say such a thing to Mr. Garrison? To anyone for that manner?" she asked.
"I won't suspend your son Mrs. Marsh. I think he's learned his lesson. I'll just let you handle it on your own," Principal Victoria said.
Sharon stood up and took hold of Stan's hand and dragged him out to the car. "We are going home now Stanley. I am very disappointed with you. You are in a lot of trouble young man!"
Stan struggled against her grip. "Ow! Mom, you're hurting me!"
Sharon let go and opened the door to the back seat of the car. "Get in- now. You are in a lot of trouble, that's for sure."
"Mom, I was only just"-
Sharon picked him up and placed him inside, putting the seat belt over him and shutting the door before driving off. Stan was shaken now. He already knew so much had changed in the past two days, but he didn't think about how his parents dealt with punishment. The look on his mother's face and the grip she had on his hand were like nothing she had ever done before. One thing was for certain, Stan was terrified about how things would go down once they got home.
Again, tell me what you think and come back for more
I ship: Stan/Cartman <3
Sharon: What is it honey? (gasp!) My baby's killed again!
Haa, I love that line.
check out my arts
NEW FORMS OF PUNISHMENT
Sharon hurried Stan along inside their house when they got home before having him face her.
"Just what on earth were you thinking when you called your teacher gay, Stanley?" she raged.
"Never before have you been brought into the principal's office for calling someone gay. Do you even know the meaning of the word? I know you kids like to use it when we adults aren't around, that's for sure."
"There is no reason for you to do such a thing!" she continued.
"Damnit Mom will you just let me talk for a minute?" Stan said over her.
She narrowed her eyes, grabbed his wrist and smacked him across his behind. Stan's eyes went wide with fright. His mother had done something she had never ever done before, something she and his father had been against since day one, something they promised him they'd never do- she hit him. Stan never felt more betrayed in his whole life than this day. First his best friend hated him and now his mom hit him. He couldn't help it; he sank to the floor and began to cry. Sharon wore a look of surprise for a second before changing back to anger.
"I want you to go up to your room and stay there until your father and I come up."
Stan cried as she pulled him up and put him on the stairs. He hurried up them and into his room and flopped onto his bed and sobbed. Today was horrible, absolutely horrible. What was going on? What was going on? An hour later Shelley came home from school. She grabbed a cup of yogurt and was about to go upstairs when Sharon stopped her.
"I don't want you going into your brother's room right now okay Shelley?" Sharon told her from the dining room table, book in hand.
"He is in very big trouble right now. He has to realize what he did was wrong."
"What did he do?"
Sharon sighed, lowering her book. "He- he called out on his teacher's sexuality today. And cursed in front of me."
"He did what?" Shelley gasped.
"Don't bother him right now all right?"
Shelley nodded and went upstairs. She crossed her room and was about to enter it when she heard soft crying. She put her ear to Stan's door and realized it was coming from there. She took a few steps back, going in the direction of her room, but couldn't. Her mother warned her not to bother him right now. But he was upset, and she hated seeing her little brother upset. She bit her lip, thinking for a moment before turning the doorknob and poking her head in.
"Stan?" she whispered.
He was still on his bed, face in his pillow, crying. She went all the way into the room and closed the door behind her before walking to his bed.
"Stan?" she asked again.
It was the second time today that he jumped when he felt a hand on his back. He turned his head to find the concerned look on his sister's face staring back at him. Shelley, concerned? She sat down on the bed near his feet, hand still on his back.
"Stan? Are you okay?"
Stan sniffed as he sat up. "N-no."
"What happened little brother?"
His body shivered as if the air around them grew colder. He was not used to- it didn't matter. He was upset. His own mother had slapped him, the fact that she had done such a thing hurt far more than his actual behind. He couldn't help it, he crumpled onto Shelley.
"M- Mom hit me!" he wailed.
"Hm?" she had her arm around him.
"She hit me! She- she- (sniff) she said she'd never ever do that. Not in a million years but she did!"
Shelley was worried now. "I can't believe you're so upset over this Stan. Mom's hit you before."
Stan looked at her with an expression of horror.
"She doesn't you know, beat you or hit you more than three times in a row but she's hit you."
Stan was speechless.
"It doesn't happen often, you have to really do something horrible for Mom or Dad to hit you. But it's not so bad, it could be worse. You're lucky our parents don't beat us or anything," Shelley explained.
Stan sniffed, sucking in the air around him. "You don't get it! Mom has never done something like that. (sniff) Everything's different Shelley. The Mom I remember from Friday promised us she would never hurt us. Dad too. They- they said they never be-believed in that kind of punishment. It's always been time-outs and lectures and grounding for us, and it's always worked. But- but this… it's like she betrayed me Shelley!"
Was he still living in some dream world from the weekend? What was wrong with him? She didn't know what to say so she just allowed him to continue to cry on her as she held him. She didn't leave his room until 5:00, when Randy came home. Footsteps were heard and their parents walked into their son's room.
"Shelley, what did I tell you?" Sharon said heavily.
Shelley looked down at her brother who was no longer crying but was still feeling miserable.
"We need to speak to Stan alone Shelley," Randy said sternly.
Shelley got to her feet but Stan took hold of her shirt. "No! Don't leave me!" he was really afraid his parents were going to hurt him now that they were both here.
"Sorry Stan," Shelley looked sympathetic before unlatching his fingers and leaving the room.
"Stan," Sharon began, stepping forward but Stan scooted back fearfully.
Randy walked to him as well. "Your mother told me you got in trouble in school today."
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry Mom and Dad! I didn't mean to!" Stan cried.
Sharon looked at him, frowning. "Why are you so nervous Stanley?"
"Don't hurt me," Stan squeaked.
"I would never do such a thing," Sharon said, surprised.
"That's what you and Dad promised to me when I was two. I thought you were telling the truth because you've never hit me but- but you did. You broke your promise."
"What? You're upset that I hit you earlier?"
Stan just looked to his feet.
"But that's what I always do if I feel you need to be put in line. Stan, you called your own teacher 'gay', and cursed in front of me when we got home. Don't act as if you didn't deserve it."
"Maybe I did. But you've never done that before Mom. Never."
"What are you talking about son?" Randy asked, bewildered.
"Why did you do it? Why couldn't you have just yelled at me and put me in time-out? Why did you"- Stan swallowed a lump in his throat. He didn't know why it was such a big deal, it was just a smack right? But it was more than that. To be told your whole life your parents would never harm you like that and then they go around and do it… he was never punished that way, ever.
Sharon took his hand. "Are you still feeling confused like you did over the weekend?"
"I- I guess. I mean, from- from what I remember Mr. Garrison was gay. He really is. I didn't say it to get in trouble."
"Oh honey, I'm sorry. If you would have told me you were still feeling confused I would have thought twice before smacking you."
Stan didn't say anything back. The betrayal still stung. Sharon stood. "I'm sorry Stanley. You will be punished though for what you did though."
"It hurts me to say this but- you will not get to go with us to volunteer at the animal shelter after school tomorrow."
Stan opened his mouth then closed it. "I- you'd go without me?" Why would his family go to such a place?
"I'm afraid so," Sharon said heavily.
"But- but I'm the only one who's into that kind of stuff."
Sharon and Randy shared a look.
"The answer is no Stanley. Now you sit up here for the rest of the day and don't cause trouble."
His parents walked out. Stan felt that he had gotten off fairly easy. As much as he'd like to help out at the shelter tomorrow he'd survive by not going. He never had volunteered there in the first place so he wasn't really missing anything. The smack on his bottom was punishment enough. No, Kyle's dislike of him hurt even more.
Stan could feel his eyes sting. He had had his fair share of fights and arguments and even declarations of de-friending Kyle ever since he was four, but they never lasted long. They were stuck with one another for the rest of time and they knew it. So for Kyle to be the one who hated him, for no apparent reason other than he was 'lame…' and the others. Butters and Kenny and Clyde apparently liked him, but they weren't best friends. Cartman, Eric Cartman of all people was his best friend… how and why he didn't even want to know.
All the news that had occurred today was worse than Saturday. But Stan had to find out for sure just how much had changed. He took in a deep breath, brave enough to explore his bedroom, see what was still the same and what wasn't. It was best to find out now before he was too afraid to later.
He opened the three drawers under his bed. They were all filled with junk. The second one held all his usual football and baseball cards. Okay, so at least I'm still into sports… he opened his dresser to take a look at his clothes. All his socks, underwear, and undershirts were still the same, as were his pants, shorts, and swimming trunks. He took a look at his shirts. For the most part they remained the same but mixed into them were more shirts about animals than he remembered. He couldn't even think of three animal shirts he used to own. He frowned as he held up one that had 'San Diego Zoo' written over it with a picture of an elephant. San Diego… he had gone to the zoo last summer with family. That must have meant all of his mother's side of the family still lived in Southern California. He smiled in relief. Another 'normal' thing. He crossed over the room to his closet. His same dull green suit hung there as well as his same shoes. He moved them inside to see if anything else was familiar.
Same baseball bat, same skateboard, same pair of roller blades, same helmet… that's when Stan noticed something. A bounded book with a picture of a playground, crudely drawn and his kindergarten picture pasted on it. My Kindergarten Memories, it read. Just like Shelley's. If anything would give him an insight on past memories, it would be this. He took the book and sat on his bed and began to flip through it. A lot of the things inside were the same things he remembered from his own life in kindergarten. The same projects, stories and classmates. He did find one interesting piece though. On another badly colored in picture of a turkey were a few lines.
My name is Stan Marsh and the things I am most thankful for is my toys, cookies, Mom, Dad, and big sister. She loves to play with me and take care of me. She's the best sister ever!
Stan felt a lump rise in his throat. No, that wasn't right. He had written down that he was thankful for all of those things but his sister. He went on about how thankful he was about cookies, not Shelley. But that wasn't it; Stan had seen a lack of pictures and mentions of Kyle. He found the page where he talked of his best friend.
My name is Stan Marsh and my best friend is Cartman. He likes to play with me and eat snacks with me during snack time and sticks up for me like no one else! Below that was a picture of a smiling Stan and Cartman eating a sandwich during snack time.
Stan tried to find any mentions of Kyle. He found a picture with Kyle in it. It had been at a visit to the local fire station and Kyle was part of the same group Stan was in. Stan was standing next to Kyle, beaming but Kyle looked less-than-happy to have the little boy next to him. He found another project where Kyle was paired up with him. It was from 'T' week and the topic was teeth. Stan read the passage that was written on the paper.
My name is Stan. My friend is Kyle. We counted how many teeth we have today! I have 20 teeth. Kyle also has 20 teeth! It was fun learning about teeth this week with my friend Kyle!
With this was a pair of lips and teeth made from construction paper and looked hideous. There was also a picture of him and Kyle holding up their projects. Again, Stan was happy; Kyle however looked bored out of his mind.
It was like losing Kyle as a friend all over again. He remembered pairing up with Kyle during 'T' week and all the fun they had when it came to teeth. What he was looking at now… didn't fit. Stan shut the book, not wanting anymore false memories. He sat up in his bed, thinking long and hard when he heard a knock on the door. He didn't bother looking out the window to see who it was but two minutes later he saw his bedroom door open and his mother poke her head in.
"Stanley? A friend came over to visit you."
She stepped inside and Cartman walked in with a smile.
"Only for an hour boys. Stan is in trouble." She walked back downstairs.
"What are you doing here?" Stan asked dully.
"Dude, what happened just now? With Garrison and everything?"
Stan sighed deeply. "Why are you pretending to care?"
Cartman looked confused. "I'm not pretending, I really wanna know."
Stan groaned. "You remember what I told you during lunch? About, how I think I'm living someone else's life or something?"
"That was apart of it. Last time I checked, Mr. Garrison was gay. There's- there's a lot of history behind it actually. He's done a lot of crazy sh*t since third grade that's gotten him in trouble. He's gay, really really gay."
"Hm… well, I felt bad that you had to miss out on the science lesson so here- I made you something"- he handed over a small tube with goop inside. "I made extra of the glow-in-the-dark slime for you. I knew you'd think the lesson was killer."
Stan took the slime out and onto his hands.
"And it really glows. Try it tonight," Cartman pointed out.
"Thanks…" Stan sighed sadly and put the stuff back in the tube and held his head up with his hands.
"Something wrong Stan?" Cartman asked, worried.
"I'm not telling you."
"Why not? We're bros."
"Because we aren't best friends!" Stan screamed. Cartman looked hurt. "S- sorry but, I only feel comfortable talking about this kind of stuff with my best friend. And I thought my best friend was Kyle. Guess I was wrong…"
Cartman noticed the boy's kindergarten book and leafed through some pages. He sat next to Stan. "Sorry man. I did warn you Kyle doesn't like you much."
"But I don't get why. What did I do?"
Cartman put a finger to his lips in thought. "I don't know to tell you the truth. You tried for a while to get him to like you back in preschool, guess he didn't see you as best friend potential. His best friend is actually Craig."
"Yeah. Makes sense, they both love doing nothing together. Believe me, they are really boring and never come up with anything fun to do. They're both too serious for cool stuff like video games or sweet toys."
The more he heard and saw, the more Stan's chest hurt. He couldn't fall to pieces in front of Cartman of all people.
"Hey Stan? Do you want to tell me exactly what you're going on about? About, this different life or whatever?"
Stan grabbed the brim of his hat in frustration. "I don't normally talk to you though, not about serious things like this."
"Sorry, but hey, if you don't have anyone else to tell, I'm here."
He was right; there really wasn't anyone to talk to but the fatass right now. Stan groaned yet again and told him all he could from the past two and a half days. When he was finished Cartman was raising a brow.
"Do you believe me?" Stan asked, almost desperately.
"Well, it does seem odd that you're acting so different. But, the thought, the mere thought that it might be true… it makes no sense. How and why would you be living some alternate life? How is that even possible?" Cartman questioned.
"That's what I keep telling myself. I want to think that's what's going on, that way all this nonsense makes sense. On the other hand, how could it? If it's not true then I'm really really scared. Everyone is acting differently around me, even my family." He looked down, head in hands again.
"Stan, dude," Cartman placed a hand on the smaller boy's shoulder, causing him to flinch. "You know I want to believe you. But this is insane, it can't be true. All of my memories and experiences are too real for it to be true. You know what I think? I think you really are confused, you really might have amnesia."
Stan was about to say 'but all the thoughts and experiences I have are just as real for me too', but didn't.
"All you can do is wait for your old memories to come back. Then this world will make sense again," Cartman said brightly.
"What if it doesn't change though?"
Cartman thought again. "I don't know." he got up, ready to leave but turned back to him. "Look, let's wait it out, give it to the end of the week. If nothing changes the way you expect them to, then we can work together on trying to figure out what to do about it."
Stan didn't know if he could wait a week, living like this, but he nodded. Cartman waved farewell before leaving. Stan stayed up in his room the rest of the night. He was giving himself one week until he tried to take action, he just didn't know if he should pretend along with everyone else or continue to insist that this was not the life he knew. He didn't want his parents to think he was crazy but he couldn't pretend either. Falling asleep that night was difficult. His mother looked at him sadly, knowing he was still having troubles remembering things. It wasn't easy for Stan to just shrug off what she did to him earlier. How he hoped the next day would be better.
Breakfast was annoying that Tuesday. Sharon had made pancakes and sausage but would not allow Stan to touch any of the sausage.
"But I want it. Please?" he begged.
"For the last time no Stanley! You do not eat meat."
"I told you I did!" Stan soon figured it best to remain true to himself and not act like everything that was happening around him was normal.
"I will not let you break a promise Stan. You haven't eaten meat for two years now, I don't want you to give it up like nothing," Sharon explained.
"But why does it matter? If I want to eat meat than I should be able to."
"But think of all the animals that are going to suffer just so you can have a side of bacon or sausage every week."
"How come you and Dad and Shelley were able to drop vegetarianism but not me?" Stan asked, arms crossed.
"Because you're the only one who was able to stick with it. Now no more arguments, eat your pancakes."
"But I need a side with my pancakes."
Sharon came over and prevented a small plate with slices of strawberries and bananas.
"Fruit? You're giving me fruit?" One of the few things he had in common with Cartman was he wasn't one to eat much fruit, especially if an adult forced him to.
"It's healthy for you," Sharon stated.
"So is meat! I want meat Mom!" Stan argued. He never thought he would be having an argument about meat of all things.
"You are not going to eat any, do you understand?" Sharon snapped.
"So I'm just supposed to ignore the smell? It's so good… it's tanta-lizing," Stan looked dreamy.
Shelley was at the table too and looked up. "If Stan wants sausage you should just let him eat some, Mom."
"I said no! What else are you kids hearing?" Sharon asked wildly.
Stan folded his arms. "So that's it? No more meat? Ever? No matter what I do?"
Stan really hoped this wasn't his real mother now; no way would he go without meat the rest of his life.
"And it wouldn't kill you to wear some of your animal rights shirts either Stanley," Sharon said matter-of-factly.
"I wear what I want," Stan said stubbornly.
"I don't want you to act as if you aren't a part of all our animal rights groups and support systems. That will be very disrespectful. Wear one today, you might catch the eye of other students at school," Sharon told her son.
"Pff, yeah, to beat me up."
"You will wear a shirt today young man, like your sister and father and myself are, or you won't have anything but animal rights shirts!"
So Stan had to go to school bearing a t-shirt that read 'Join the Save the Tigers Group of Colorado!' thankfully he had his jacket buttoned up over it and hopefully he didn't need to take if off today. Before class began, Stan told Mr. Garrison he was sorry for calling him 'gay' the previous day (his mother told him he'd better). The teacher was still angry that he was called that but forgave the boy. Stan sure hoped he'd be able to get though the day today for his head had begun to hurt again. It had been an hour before lunch when the headache intensified.
"Stanley, Stanley Marsh, are you paying attention?" Mr. Garrison snapped, hand poised on the whiteboard with a pen in hand.
Stan rubbed his eyes as he tried to take down the notes on the fraction problems that were written down.
"Sorry," he apologized.
"I do not tolerate sleeping in my class and you know it young man. Now pay attention!"
Was he really as nice as others stated he was? Or did he simply have it out for Stan?
"Now children, can you tell me how to reduce the numerator for problem three?"
Stan was rubbing at his eyes still; it was too hard to concentrate on anything. Suddenly the pain took hold and Stan blacked out, unaware to the cries of those sitting around him.
FYI, it took a lot for me to write Stan being smacked as I am very against the hitting of children, but I had to do it. Review :)
I ship: Stan/Cartman <3
Sharon: What is it honey? (gasp!) My baby's killed again!
Haa, I love that line.
DREAMS VERSUS REALITY
Stan was walking down a dark, unfamiliar path with black trees on the sides. There wasn't anything but mist floating around him. He had no idea where he could be.
"Hello?" he called. "Hello?"
There wasn't any answer but the mist seemed to be changing direction.
"Hello? Is anyone here?"
He could hear a whistling sound now and the trees creaked in the wind. He hoped he could find somebody soon; he needed to find a way out of here!
"Hello? Somebody? Anybody?" Stan called again.
That's when he felt the air around his neck grow cold and a chilling voice. "You…don't…"
"Don't what? What the hell is going on here?" Stan demanded.
"You don't… belong here…"
Stan frowned. "Then tell me how to get back home!"
"Don't… belong…" the mystery voice whispered.
Stan continued to walk, trying to locate the voice. It sounded above him. Maybe he should climb one of the trees to get closer? He placed his hands on one of the dark trees but was thrown back.
"YOU DON'T BELONG HERE!" the voice now shouted and before he knew it, everything disappeared.
"Stan? Dude, wake up."
"Are you okay Stanley?"
Stan blinked his eyes and light filled the room. He was on his back, staring up at the faces of his classmates and teacher. "What? What happened?"
"Dude, you fainted," Cartman told him.
"Huh?" where was that sinister voice?
Mr. Garrison stood up. "Somebody, escort Stanley to the nurse's office, please."
There was a murmur of talk.
"I'll do it," Cartman said.
Cartman bent down to place Stan on his feet. He wrapped an arm around his neck in case he fell and walked out.
"I'm fine though, I only fainted," Stan protested against his friend.
"Nobody faints in class for no reason Stan."
Stan sighed, he really hoped his parents wouldn't find out, they would freak and his mother would go on how she knew he wasn't ready to go back to school. Cartman dropped Stan off at the nurse's office and left. Stan stayed there through lunch and recess, lying on one of the firm cots in the back, hoping the rest would clear his head. He couldn't take any medication for his headache though unless a parent brought it with them to the school and no way was Stan going to have the nurse call and worry his mother. The only medication that was already kept for him in the office was his Ventolin, which Stan thankfully let out another sign- he still had asthma.
Even though the nurse thought it best to phone his mother he convinced her not to and as soon as recess ended, he went back to class. His headache had subsided when school was over and he walked out the doors, his friends behind him.
"Hey Stan, we were going over to Kenny's, wanna come?" Clyde asked him.
Stan looked at Clyde who was standing with Cartman, Kenny, and Butters.
"But what about"- he looked over his shoulder to see Kyle walking ahead with Craig.
"Dude, he won't want to come," Cartman told him as if he could read his mind.
Stan looked down sadly. "I guess."
"Unless you still feel too sick to," Cartman said offhand.
"You passed out and everything, remember?"
"No, I can come."
He went after his friends to the way to the McCormick house. That's when he had a question.
"Er, why are we going to Kenny's anyway? No offense but, we never hang out there."
"It may not be a mansion but we still have fun at my place," Kenny answered. It was still weird to see him talking without a hood.
"I guess. Don't we ever hang out at my house or- or Butters' or something?"
"We all take turns at each other's houses. Today it's Kenny's," Cartman told him.
Stan was relieved to find that Kenny still lived in the same old small one-story home. Anything else that was familiar only put another smile on his face. When they walked into the house they were met up with Kenny's mother, Carol.
"Hello boys," she smiled.
Stan stared, she didn't have a dirty face like he remembered, and her hair was nice and brushed. She wore her same God Bless America t-shirt but like her son, somehow looked happier. The house was different too; it was still small and didn't house much but the things inside weren't a mess of broken and smelly things. The carpet didn't hold any stains and the place was well, clean.
"Want to watch some TV?" Kenny asked his friends. "It's still the basic channels but my dad promised us cable from his next paycheck!"
"Your- your dad has a job?" Stan had to ask.
"I know, finally huh? He was hired at KFC. Pretty cool, isn't it Cartman?" Kenny nudged the fat boy.
Cartman rolled his eyes. "I know. But we get chicken at half price if we mention his name! That kicks ass huh Stan?"
Cartman still loves Kentucky Fried Chicken. Another notch in the right direction…Kenny turned on the TV and took a seat on the couch. Butters and Cartman sat next to him leaving Stan and Cylde on the floor. Stan glanced at Clyde; it was so weird to see the boy hanging with him. He could not remember anytime any of them invited Clyde along with them to play or do anything fun. Mrs. Mc Cormick stepped inside the living room and presented a plate.
"I went ahead and baked up some cookies for you boys since I knew you'd be comin' over," she told them. "I'll bring out glasses of milk, just a sec…"
The other boys made a grab for the cookies and when Carol brought out the milk, Cartman began dunking them in at once.
"You okay Stan?" she asked the boy.
"You haven't touched one of my cookies yet. I know you love 'em."
Stan looked at the plate of oatmeal cookies. It was true, he loved cookies, they were his favorite thing to snack on, but he had never seen Kenny's mother bake anything before and was weary of how good they were. They were still poor after all…
"Stan fainted in class today Mom. He might not be up to eating anything right now," Kenny told her.
"Oh no, what happened?" she gasped.
Stan raised a brow as he looked up at her. The only woman who worried over him was his mother, and Kyle's if he was over his house. Kenny's parents hardly paid any attention to their own kids, why would they care about their friends? But Stan reluctantly grabbed a cookie to please her, and she left. He bit into it; it wasn't bad, nothing like his grandmother could make but they were still good. He ate four of them while the boys watched the news. After their snack Kenny declared they'd do something else. They all decided to play with Kenny's limited toys. Another shock for Stan- Kenny's bedroom did not hold any posters of women from Playboy magazines. It was still dingy and cold with a leak in the corner but it actually looked like a normal little boy's room for once. There was one poster with a monster truck on it and a South Park Cows banner on another wall with an old football poster. Kenny opened his closet and handed out toys to his friends.
"Who do you want Stan? The Batman figure or the Frankenstein doll?" Kenny asked, holding the two up.
"Huh?" he was too distracted by the normal room.
"Oh, uh… Batman."
They played with the toys for a while until it was 5:30 and all the boys made comments how they were expected to be home in time for dinner. Dinner was almost as bad as breakfast that evening. Sharon had made her famous meatloaf for the family while Stan was stuck with veggie pizza which, according to Sharon, was one of his favorite meals she prepared especially for him. Stan hated it and ended up picking off the gross mushrooms, broccoli, and cauliflower that was scattered over it. Sharon snapped at him for ruining a perfectly good pizza she spent extra time to make and Stan ended up not eating much that night.
"Can I at least have dessert?" he whined.
"Not until you take three more bites of your pizza."
Stan groaned but forced himself to.
"I don't get you Stanley, you love this. You ask me to make it for you every week!" Sharon said, surprised.
Stan was able to finish the night eating apple pie with ice cream so it could have been worse. That night, Stan finished changing into pajamas, brushed his teeth and lay in bed. His mom came in soon enough. She sighed as she pulled his covers over him.
"I heard you fainted in class today honey."
"I got a call from Kenny's mother. She wanted to make sure you were feeling okay."
"Are you feeling okay? Maybe that's why you didn't eat much at dinner."
"Maybe…" although he highly doubted it. Sharon kissed his cheek and stood up. "Mom?"
"Could you read me a story?" Stan smiled innocently at her. It was Tuesday night after all, and he fainted in school that day.
Sharon smiled sadly. "Oh sweetie, you're too old for that now, remember?"
"Sleep tight, all right?" she waved a few fingers at him before shutting the door.
Stan gripped onto his blankets, eyes wide, sadness flooding him. He couldn't remember the last Tuesday night they hadn't read a book together; no doubt it would take him a while to fall asleep now. He did eventually drift off to sleep an hour or so later and began to dream…
He was once again walking down a dirt path with black trees around him. Mist hung in the air again. He looked left and right, wondering where he could be. It was really dark and scary and he didn't want to be here any longer than he needed to. He felt the air around him grow cold. He shivered and crossed his arms over his chest, hoping to warm up, but couldn't. That's when a silky, mysterious voice sounded above him.
Stan looked up. "What was that?"
"I don't belong? What?"
"Where don't I belong?" Stan frowned.
"HERE!" the voice cried.
Stan jumped and began to run; trying to find his way out, but all that came ahead of him was the same dirt path and dark trees.
"Don't belong- here. Child, you don't… belong."
"Okay! Okay! Just tell me how to get out of here!" Stan cried.
He then ran into a pair of legs. He looked up and saw his mother looking down on him. She was very tall and her face was pale, eyes dark and eerie.
"Mom!" Stan said gratefully, running to her, arms out.
"You don't belong here!" she hissed when he tried to touch her, and suddenly Stan woke up, gasping for air. That dream was almost identical to the one he had in class earlier. It was hard to shake off the distorted image of his mom's face but eventually, he fell asleep again.
Wednesday arrived and like the previous days, as soon as Stan woke up, he looked around his room frantically to see if it had changed. Sadly, his walls still bore the same animal posters as it did before which told him that he was in for another day of a fake life. Thankfully breakfast was a better ordeal that morning as everyone sat around and enjoyed a bowl of cereal.
"Are you feeling any better today than the beginning of the week son?" Randy asked him.
Stan sighed. "No, nothing's changed."
"Really? Nothing at all?" Sharon asked.
She frowned at him as she buttered toast. "Well for your sake I hope you get your head screwed on right again Stan or things will only get more complicated for you, and all of us."
Stan twirled the spoon around in his Lucky Charms unenthusiastically. "Yeah, hope so…"
While it still took a lot out of Stan to go along with the flow for a fifth day, he was grateful for one thing- Cartman. The fat boy was by his side the whole time and was there to talk to and get comfort from. It was odd, very odd, but in a world that was otherwise very dark and changed, it was good to have someone sticking with him, and even believing him.
"I don't think you have amnesia Stan," Cartman was telling him over their last recess of the day. "Amnesia, you just forget things. But you haven't really 'forgotten' things; things are simply different than how you remembered them."
"I know," Stan exasperated.
"It is very strange but remember, two days. Only two more days and we'll try to get to the bottom of this."
"I don't know if I can wait that long Cartman," Stan's eyes were wide. "It's so hard not eating meat. Every time I try to my mom shoves me away. I need meat. I caught a pretty serious illness last year for not eating meat, I'm afraid it could happen again if I don't do something soon."
Cartman rubbed his chin. "You can always come to my house after school and I can cook up something meaty for you."
"Yeah, my mom will be at work. You aren't in trouble anymore are you?"
Stan shook his head no.
"Then we can hang at my place after school. I'll be sure to give you a meat fix."
Stan couldn't remember being happier to go to the Cartman house in his whole life than he was that evening. As soon as they walked in Cartman told Stan to relax in front of the TV while he prepared an after-school treat.
"You can cook though, right?" even though Cartman was just as fat as he remembered, he couldn't recall the bastard ever cooking something before. That was all Liane Cartman's doing.
"Of course, I love cooking. I plan on being a chef when I'm older, didn't you know?" he told the boy as he held onto a pan.
Stan raised a brow.
"Oh, right. Sorry."
Ten minutes later sizzling sounds were heard in the kitchen and a wonderful aroma filled the air. Cartman walked out a half hour later with two plates which he sat on TV trays, and two cans of Pepsi. Stan bit into the bacon cheeseburger and let out a deep sigh; this was without a doubt the best thing he had eaten all this week.
"Like?" Cartman asked, cracking open his soda.
"This is delicious Cartman. And I'm not just saying that because I needed a meat fix, this is really, really good."
Cartman smiled at his friend as they began watching the movie Finding Nemo. They had a fun time together; Stan was surprised at how calm things were. He and Cartman never fought like Cartman did with Kyle but it was still strange to be hanging out with just him, something that didn't occur often.
Guess this is what it's like to not have Kyle as a friend, he thought sadly. It wasn't bad but, he sure did miss his real best friend. It was close to dinner so Stan had to leave. Cartman held him back though.
"Hey Stan, I want to give you something"- he handed over a can of bacon bits.
"In case you have another craving for meat at home."
"What?" Stan said again.
"Look, I know you want to eat again but as long as your mom is sniffing around you won't get to have any. So here, you need it."
Stan smiled- the can was almost full. "Thanks dude."
"It was fun hangin' out today Stan."
"Y-yeah, it was. See ya."
With the meal of a juicy bacon cheeseburger after school Stan wasn't real hungry for dinner so he just ate some soup and was done. Thankfully dessert was a lot better than he guessed it would.
"Look little brother! We got your favorite at the store today!" Shelley exclaimed after dinner.
"Call- call me Stan, please," Stan said heavily.
Shelley looked hurt. "Sorry Stan."
"What is it?"
Shelley smiled and pulled out a tub of Cookies N' Cream ice cream.
"Cookies N' Cream?" Stan jumped in his chair now.
"Yeah, I convinced Mom to get it. I wanted to do something that might make you feel better. You still are confused aren't you?"
Shelley smiled and got out a bowl. "Hold tight little- Stan. I'm going to make it just the way you like!"
Minutes later Stan was presented a bowl of Cookies N' Cream ice cream with added chocolate syrup, some marshmallows and crumbled up Oreos to give it even more of a cookie punch. Stan was surprised.
"Wow, I didn't know you actually knew my favorite ice cream and fixings…"
"Of course I do, I know everything about you Stan," Shelley rolled her eyes.
Stan took a huge bite and did something he couldn't remember ever doing, smiling up at his sister. "Thanks Shelley! Thanks a lot!"
He had defiantly had the best food today, that was a cert. but sadly, the dreams persisted.
He was walking down the same dark pathway with the same trees. It was still cold. He could feel the breath of someone over him but when he turned, no one was there. He began hearing whispers.
"Hello? Is anyone there?" Stan asked dully. He was getting tired now of being here with no answer.
"You don't- belong…"
"I know that. I know I don't belong. Why?"
His parents showed up suddenly.
"Mom! Dad! Please, you have to help me!" Stan cried.
"You do not belong here son!" Randy said deeply, holding out a giant hand.
"This is not where you belong!" Sharon said.
"Then where do I belong? Where? Please, I'm desperate!"
Shelley appeared next to their mother now, looking just as devious as their parents. "Keep away little brother. Keep away!"
"You don't… don't belong," came the mystery voice overhead.
"Someone, please give me some answers," Stan was on his knees now.
At that moment Cartman stood in front of Stan. He looked pretty normal, certainly not as evil as his family looked.
"Cartman! Can you tell me to get out of this place? I don't think I should be here!" Stan told him, and was surprised that he could touch him.
Cartman looked at him worriedly. "I believe you dude. I really think something happened to you and you don't belong here."
Stan woke from the nightmare. The same damn nightmare he had been having. He gulped, very shaken now, not knowing what to make of it at all. Wednesday paved way to Thursday and the thought that tomorrow, he could finally start trying to put the pieces together was very hard to wait for. He woke, ate breakfast and went to school, just like he had been. And school was still uncomfortable. During lunch Stan took a seat where his friends were, including Kyle. He sat across him. Kyle paid little attention to him as they ate their lunch; he barely even looked at him. Stan decided to bring up something.
"Hey Kyle, can I ask you something?"
Kyle rolled his eyes. "Must you?"
"Yes, I must," Stan said defiant. "Do you believe in- alternate lives? Other dimensions?"
Kyle shared a look with Craig.
"What the f*ck? What a stupid question," Kyle stated.
"Yeah Stan, did you think of that on your own?" Craig cracked a grin.
Stan growled. "You really don't think it's possible that something fishy can happen? That- that you can wake up one morning and find out things aren't how they seem?"
"No I don't Stan because as soon as I did, I would be thought of as 'insane', like all of us at this table are now thinking," Kyle said calmly.
"Cant you just broaden your mind Kyle?" Stan snapped.
"I believe in real things, not crazy dreams of 'alternate dimensions'," Kyle wiggled his fingers when he said this, making Craig laugh more. Kyle joined in.
"Shut your face Craig," Cartman yelled.
"Oh here we go again," Craig rolled his eyes. "Come to rescue your prince Stan from bullies Kyle and I huh?"
"Yeah, grow up fatass," Kyle started on his lunch again.
Cartman made a fist but Stan held him back. "It doesn't matter."
"It doesn't matter; I didn't think they'd believe me."
Cartman glared at the two boys before finishing up his sandwich as well. After school Cartman pulled Stan aside.
"Okay, what are your plans for tomorrow dude?"
"I don't really have any."
"As soon as you wake up and everything is like it is now, I want you to tell me all right? Sneak out to my place, it's worth getting grounded for."
"Once there, we'll try and come up with something, put the pieces together, think of all logical and illogical reasons why this is happening. There has to be something." Cartman sounded determined.
"Why are you doing this for me Cartman?" Stan asked.
"Because I believe you dude. I really think something happened to you and you don't belong here."
Stan froze. That sounded just like his dream last night.
"Stan? Dude, are you okay?" Cartman waved a hand in front of him.
"You- you told me that last night, in a dream."
"That same thing, you told me the same f*cking thing in a dream last night!" Stan was really frustrated and terrified now.
Cartman's eyes grew wide. He placed a hand on his shoulder. "Dude, we have to get to the bottom of this, whatever it takes."
Stan looked at him numbly.
"I have to go, Mom will want me home, she hates being home by herself."
Stan was about to ask 'your mom isn't a slut?' but refrained. He just watched Eric Cartman leave. That night was very hard on Stan's sleep. He already knew his mother would read him a story and he knew that tomorrow, things were going to change. He didn't know if anything was really going to happen or not. It had been an exact week since everything was different. Although Friday wasn't any different, that's when he began to get these massive headaches. Friday, something had to have been linked to Friday. He couldn't think of what, and it was too hard to come up with the answer so he just allowed his body to relax and get a little sleep.
However, Stan and Cartman's plans were screwed up when Sharon told her son she'd be taking him to school that day. It had started off when she woke him up. Sharon caressed her son's face.
"Are you still feeling the same as you have been sweetie?"
Stan sighed. "Yes…"
Sharon sighed as well as she sat up. "I'm sorry, so sorry dear. C'mon, let's get downstairs, you'll like breakfast."
Breakfast was a plate of waffles and a side of bacon and sausage. He stared at it. "Is this mine?"
Sharon smiled. "It is, I figured, if you really do want to eat meat, it's not my place to stop you."
Stan looked over confusedly at his dad and sister.
"Eat up, enjoy," Randy smiled back from behind a newspaper.
Stan, who was always the one more aware of his surroundings than anyone, was suspicious. "Why are you doing this Mom?"
"Because, you've been complaining to me all week you like meat, so I'm finally giving in."
"Damnit Stanley, just eat your breakfast!" she snapped.
Stan was shocked; his dad was always the one to make remarks to him like that, never his mom. Slowly, he began to eat the bacon and sausage with his waffles. It was very good too, and juicy. After was when she told him she would be driving him to school. Again, he asked why.
"It's Friday Stanley; can't your mother do something nice for you without you asking questions?" Randy was getting angry now too.
"Well if you're being so nice to me I have a right to know why!"
"Because I want to, isn't that enough?" Sharon asked.
"I'm just suspicious," Stan crossed his arms.
"Suspicious of what? We're your family," Randy said.
Stan raised a brow. He hadn't know if that were true or not for a week now. Reluctantly though, Stan allowed his mother to take him to school. Before he got out she told him she would be picking him up as well. Again, he had to ask why.
"Oh, Dad and I planned a surprise for you after school," Sharon smiled.
"A surprise huh?" Stan asked, not amused.
"Yes, I promise you, it's going to be a good one. A really great surprise. You are going to be so thankful for it after!"
"I want a clue."
Sharon just shook her head and put a finger to his lips. "All I can tell you is it is big. Now have a good day sweetie!"
As soon as Stan left the car, he ran into Cartman.
"Dude! Why the f*ck didn't I hear from you?" he demanded.
"Dude, my mom took me to school today. She was very defiant on it," Stan gritted his teeth.
Cartman rubbed his temples in frustration. "After school then, we have to think things over at my house after school."
"Can't, my mom wants to pick me up. Apparently my parents have a 'great surprise' in store for me when I get home."
Cartman looked at him. "What? What kind of surprise?"
"She wouldn't tell me."
"I don't know if you should do it Stan, this could be dangerous, considering everything."
Stan sighed. "Or it could be the answer to everything that has been going on."
Cartman growled, shaking, looking mad. It was the first real Cartman Stan had seen in five days.
"Fine, if you want to blow off everything today, that's your call. But if you can come over my house after your 'surprise', do so."
"I promise I will dude."
Unfortunately for Stan, that would not happen. Sharon had picked up Stan after school like she said, and took him home. Stan was very nervous when he saw both his parents standing there in the living room.
"Son, your mother and I have been worried about you lately," Randy told him.
"You seem to have forgotten so much about everything, you keep making up these stories and we have no idea where they are coming from," Sharon said.
"I'm not making them up though!" Stan argued.
"And another thing, you keep denying everything we tell you. No matter what we say, it's not the truth," Randy continued.
Stan crossed his arms angrily.
Sharon bit her lip. "We have been debating all week now on what we should do. But finally, we thought of the best thing for you."
Stan's eyes narrowed, more nervous and suspicious than ever before. "What's the best thing for me?"
Randy sighed. "We have decided, the best thing to do is admit you to the South Park Mental Hospital."
Review for a faster update!
I ship: Stan/Cartman <3
Sharon: What is it honey? (gasp!) My baby's killed again!
Haa, I love that line.
A HOSPITAL FOR THE MENTAL
Stan stared at his parents, in more disbelief than he had been all week.
"Ment-mental hospital?" he croaked.
His parents looked upset.
"We're sorry Stan but it's for the best. We have to figure out why you are acting this way," Sharon said.
"Because- because I"- Stan suddenly realized he didn't know why he was acting like this. He had nothing else to say except that things were different than they were last week.
"We don't know if it's amnesia or what but we are going to take you to the mental hospital and have you evaluated," Randy spoke.
"I don't need to be evaluated Dad! I'm fine! It's you and Mom and Shelley and everyone else who are different!"
"We have already packed some things for you, they're in the trunk. C'mon, we have to go," Randy said, moving toward the door.
"No, no way in hell am I going to a nut house. I'm fine," Stan insisted.
"Are you going to come quietly or do we have to force you?" Sharon asked.
"Neither because I'm not going!" Stan cried. Suddenly Shelley came downstairs. Never before had he been so happy to see her. "Shelley! Shelley! You have to help me; Mom and Dad want to take me to a mental hospital!"
Shelley had tears in her eyes. "I- I tried to tell them not to, there must be another way but, there isn't. I'm really worried for you too little brother."
"You have to help me!" he ran to her and tugged on her shirt. This made her tears fall now. She hugged her brother tight.
"I'm so sorry Stan but I can't do anything, you have to g-go."
"I'm sorry Stan."
"Shelley, please," Stan pleaded.
His dad took a hold of his hand and dragged him off her. "We're going now son."
"No! No! I'm not going! I'm not going!" Stan struggled against the man's strong grip. He suddenly took hold of his son and lifted him up, Stan kicking and yelling the whole time. Both Randy and Sharon had to work together to get Stan restrained in the car.
"In a half hour, you'll be there. Just sit tight until then," Randy said and after he and his wife were situated, he started the car and drove off.
Stan didn't have a choice but sit still in the car. If he tried to escape while the car was moving he might get hit by another vehicle. So he rested on repeating himself over and over again.
"I'm not crazy you guys! I'm not!"
"Everything you have been saying and doing points that you are mentally unstable somehow," Randy pointed out.
"But I'm not! I'm completely fine! Things are just different! But I'm fine!"
"We didn't want it to come down to this honey but it's the only choice," Sharon said, looking at him through her mirror. "We decided to do something if you didn't improve by Friday. Friday is here, and luckily it doesn't take long to admit you to the hospital."
Stan shouted as many versions of 'I'm fine!' as he could on the fast ride there. Unfortunately, they fell on deaf ears. After a half hour drive, they pulled up to a tall building that looked like a normal hospital, but with a large sign up front reading: SOUTH PARK MENTAL HOSPITAL. Stan gulped now, they were there. He could try any last means of escape but he doubted they would work. He tried to make a run for it when the car door opened but his father quickly stopped him. He held him in his arms while Stan pleaded some more. They waited behind a short line of people at reception before they met up with the nurse up front.
"Oh yes, Stanley Marsh? The little crazy boy?" smiled the woman.
"Goddamnit I'm not crazy!" Stan screamed.
"Fill out this form here with all his information and a doctor will call him in to physically examine him shortly."
"Excuse me, how long will it take before anyone knows what is causing our son to…" Sharon trailed.
"Hallucinate? I can't give you a clear answer. It might take one hour or one week of testing to determine what he might have," the woman answered.
Sharon nodded and took the clipboard and the family sat down (not without Randy keeping a firm hold on their son that is).
"I cannot believe you guys are actually doing this," Stan said, fear in his eyes.
"We have to get down to the bottom of this son, it's the only way," Randy told him.
"The sooner they check you over, the sooner they find a cause and the sooner they put you on medication and treatment and the sooner you can leave!" Sharon said in an upbeat manner.
"That's supposed to make me feel better?"
His parents didn't answer, just focused on the form. After it was filled out, they sat around and waited. Stan wasn't struggling against his father's hold anymore; he was more interested in the people around them. People talking to themselves, walking in circles, crazed looks in their eyes. Stan knew some of them had to have been murderers, he could have sworn someone ahead of him was stroking a short knife. He saw another man being carted off in a straight jacket after some struggle with a few nurses. He wasn't as crazy as any of these people, he wasn't crazy at all! But they waited a while before a man in a lab coat stepped out.
Randy returned to his firm hold of Stan's wrist as the family walked to the man.
"Hello, I am Dr. Frandson; I'm going to physically examine your son right now before he will be carted off to speak with one of our child psychiatrists. After that he will be held in a holding area while we go over the results of his testing."
Randy and Sharon shook hands with him. The man bent down to Stan's level.
"Hello Stanley, I am Dr. Frandson, I hope you and I get to be good friends," he smiled.
"We won't because I am not crazy! I swear it! Can't I just go back home?" Stan complained.
"First off, is he fighting you? Do you think it is safe to take him to the examining room or do you think it is safer we- intervene?"
Sharon and Randy looked down at Stan. Stan didn't know what to do. He already knew he couldn't escape now that they had met the doctor so he relaxed his body.
"I don't need special escorts," Stan spat.
"I was asking your parents Stanley," the doctor told him.
"Well, he's been doing okay so far. And he hasn't actually gotten physical since he began talking of this strange lifestyle he's living. I guess he can walk," Randy shrugged.
The doctor nodded. "Follow me then."
Stan was taken into a small bright room and was physically examined by the doctor. He hated the reasons behind it; it was the worst check-up he could remember just for that reason. After he was looked over he had blood drawn before waiting in a small waiting room and being called in by a different person, a woman.
"Okay sweetie, you're going to have to say good-bye to Mommy and Daddy for a little while now, but I'm sure you'll be able to see them tonight," smiled the psychiatrist.
The good-bye wasn't filled with much love. Stan was angry his parents were putting him through this and shrugged them off when they tried to hug and kiss him good-bye. He wanted out now; he just didn't know how he could leave. The pretty woman led him to a private room where a couch sat on one side and a chair on another. Never before did Stan think he would ever have to lie back in a 'crazy person' couch, not when he was only nine!
"Take a seat dear, make yourself comfortable," the woman said, pushing him forward.
"I'm more comfortable standing," Stan said stubbornly.
"Okay, whatever you want to do." She held out a hand. "I am Dr. Reynolds."
Stan took it reluctantly.
"I am here to ask you some questions, just get a general feel of you and your mind and the reasons behind your 'alternative life.'"
"It's not alternate, it's real."
"Okay. Why don't you take a seat?" she nodded to the couch.
Gritting his teeth, Stan did so, facing her.
"The first question I want to ask, how are you feeling right now?"
"Pissed off. I just had blood drawn, I hate having my blood drawn," Stan began, holding a hand to the bandage on the crook of his right arm. "And confused. And angry that my so-called parents are putting me through this!" he bit.
"Okay," Dr. Reynolds nodded and wrote this down.
"I'm not crazy, I'm not," Stan told her.
"And what makes you think this way?"
"Because- because I know the truth! I know how my family and friends and people at school really act and all of a sudden they aren't acting that way."
"Can you recall hitting your head or anything last week?"
"I didn't. I was sick in bed first off 'cause I had a cold, but last week was normal. Completely normal, the last time I injured my head was when I was six," Stan told her.
"And how did you do this?" she posed her pen to the paper on her lap.
"I jumped off the playground at the park and hit my head. I had to get stitches; I still have a scar."
"And that was it? You didn't receive a concussion or loose your memory for any length of time?"
"No. I fell, busted my head, and got stitches, crying the whole while. Never once did I loose my memory or pass out," Stan said firmly.
"Okay." Dr. Reynolds wrote down more words. She looked up. "Let's talk first of your feelings and why you are feeling the way you are. The first thing you mentioned is you are 'pissed off' that you had blood drawn. Why is that?"
Stan rolled his eyes. "'Cause I am. It hurts. I hate needles."
"Okay. Is this linked to anything from your past? Anything that might be linked to why you have been brought in here today?"
"No. I just hate them, always have."
"Okay." She looked back at her notes. "Why are you confused Stanley?"
Stan blinked. "I just am. I don't belong here. I don't know why everyone is acting different around me when I know this isn't how they normally act. I'm confused because, why me? What did I do that made my life how it is now?"
"Okay. And you are angry at your parents because-?"
"Because they're the ones who brought me here in the first place! They think I'm insane but I'm not. I promise you," Stan pleaded.
Dr. Reynolds looked at him. "I won't get into detail now about these things you believe to be true. But I would like to know what might have brought it on. How long has life been different for you?"
"Since Saturday morning. Friday, I had these huge headaches. I went to bed, only to wake up in well, this."
"Headaches? Do you know what might have caused them?"
"No idea. I- I've been having them again lately," Stan admitted.
"Yeah. I- I passed out from one on Wednesday I think it was."
"Oh my. And this happened out of nowhere?"
Stan nodded. She said she wasn't going to get into detail yet so he said nothing about his odd dreams. Dr. Reynolds asked him some more questions over the span of an hour before she was finished up.
"Thank-you for talking with me today Stanley, you did a very good job," the woman smiled.
"Yeah. Um, when am I going home?"
"In due time, as soon as we know why you are acting the way you are. I wouldn't worry if I were you; you are so much calmer than other patients here. You are defiantly one of the best behaved children I have worked with."
"Come on, I'm to take you to your room now."
"Wait- am I being admitted here?" Stan asked, mouth agape.
"I'm sorry honey but yes. It might only be for a day! Don't worry, you'll be fine. Follow me."
Stan hung his head low, eyes stinging as he walked after the woman down hallways and up two flights in the elevator. They stopped at a door down a hallway.
"Stanley, I'd like to introduce you to someone," Dr. Reynolds informed the boy.
Stan looked up dully at the third doctor for that day. He sighed.
"Stanley, this is Dr. Leon. He will show you to your room."
"Hello Stanley, how are you doing this evening?" the young man smiled.
"Horrible," Stan answered bitterly.
"You shouldn't have any troubles with him Chris; he did a great job with his first session with me."
"That's good news to hear!"
"I'm going to leave you now Stanley but I will come by to talk with you tomorrow, okay?" she smiled and waved before going back down the two floors.
"All right Stan- do you like to be called Stan for short?"
"Yeah," Stan said, still numb to what was happening.
"Stan, this will be the semi-private room you're going to be sharing until we go over your tests so far and figure out what the heck is going on inside that head of yours!" he smiled, tapping him on his head.
Stan glared. Dr. Leon opened the door to a room that looked like a children's recovery room in a hospital. There were two beds, and on one, was a boy who was only slightly older than Stan was.
"Camden, this is your new roommate, Stanley, or Stan for short." The doctor winked at Stan.
"Hey," waved the golden-haired boy.
"Since the hospital trusts you two, you will be sharing a room together. As soon as any fights or problems break out, you will be sent to a separate room, understand?" The man looked serious now.
Stan sank onto the bed at the right after the doctor left (not before placing an official wristband on Stan's wrist). The other boy, Camden looked up from his book.
"So, what are you in here for?" he asked.
Stan sighed. "My parents think I'm crazy because I keep brining up things that are different, like I'm living in some alternative life."
"Hm… I'm here because my parents think I'm evil," he said calmly.
Stan sat up, mouth open.
"I'm not," Camden added. "I'm sort of like an illusionist. Have you heard of a man called Criss Angel? He's great. I can do a lot of crazy sh*t like him but my parents think it's the work of the devil. They're pretty religious. Once they saw me floating my pet hamster to me, they brought me here."
"It's fine, I know I'm normal," Camden shrugged.
"So do I. I know I'm not going nuts either."
Camden blinked. "I'm in sixth grade, you?"
"My best bet Stanley, Stan-for-short, is be yourself and don't let the doctors here intimidate you. If you aren't crazy, then chances are it's the truth. For the most part, the kids on this floor are not crazy, or have very mild cases of psychiatric problems. Their parents are just too stupid to see past it."
"That makes sense," Stan said, thinking of his own parents.
"Keep calm and carry on," Camden stated and returned to his book.
And that's all Stan could do. Night soon came and Stan was given dinner. Thankfully it consisted of meat, fried chicken. It wasn't anything like KFC but better than that nasty vegetarian pizza days ago. After dinner Dr. Leon popped in.
"Stan? Your parents are here if you want to say good-night to them until tomorrow."
"I'm not in the mood," Stan said crossly.
"Are you sure? They'd like to see you," the man said hopefully.
"Well I don't want to see them," he retorted.
The doctor sighed and told his parents this. They were upset but said they'd come by tomorrow. Stan had a difficult time falling asleep that night. The bed he was in was firm, and he could hear the sounds of people walking up and down the halls. Not to mention his new roommate snored and Stan was a light sleeper. He could have sworn he heard screaming above him. He gripped his covers before his eyes finally shut tight for good.
He was walking along a dark hallway, the usual creepy trees on either side. He was getting really sick and tired of seeing the same things. A mist hung about him, and the sound of whispers filled the air. Stan sighed.
"Hello?" He called dully.
The figures of his family appeared in front of him again.
"I thought we told you that you don't belong here," Randy spoke firmly.
"I know you did but I don't know what to do. How do I get back?"
"You can't go back until…" Sharon trailed, a vacant look in her eyes.
"What? Until what?"
"Sorry little brother," Shelley said in what could be compared to a ghostly girl in a horror film.
"Damnit tell me! I'm getting sick of this!" Stan stamped his foot.
"You don't belong here child," the same, mysterious voice above him spoke.
"I know that! I know that! How do I get back?"
"You- you will see…"
"Huh?" a bright light showed ahead and suddenly he was pulled back to the land of the conscious. He woke screaming. Suddenly the door banged open and two doctors rushed in.
"Stan! Stan! Can you hear me?" asked Dr. Leon.
Stan was flailing about.
"Do we need to sedate him?" called a nurse at the entrance of the door, syringe in hand.
"Stan! Stanley, do-you-know-where-you-are?" Dr. Leon asked him, carefully.
Stan looked around, eyes wide. "Ment-mental hospital."
"What happened young man?" asked the other doctor in the room.
"I- I saw them, like I have been. The same dream, my parents, and the mysterious voice. They tell me I don't belong here but I don't know what to do! I can't escape!" Stan cried.
The doctors looked at each other.
"What dreams are these Stanley?"
"The same ones. They tell me I don't belong here, it's real dark, and I keep hearing a mysterious voice. I don't belong here."
Dr. Leon stood straight. "Maybe it's best we take you to another room Stanley."
"No! I'm fine! It's just a dream," Stan said quickly.
They looked at each other. Finally Dr. Leon sighed. "Fine, you get one more shot. Prove you can stay here, quietly, and you won't be transported elsewhere."
Two minutes later the adults left. Stan glanced over to his left; apparently his night terror didn't disturb Camden the slightest. With trouble, Stan drifted off again.
Stan found himself sitting on the edge of a dark pond, staring at his reflection. The trees on either side swayed as usual but as of now, Stan had given up. He pulled at the grass, there was no way out. Even though there had to be, he still felt at loss. He saw a shadow cast itself over him. He turned to see Cartman.
"Hey dude," Cartman said.
"Hey…" Stan looked back at the grass in his hand.
"All right if I sit?"
Stan shrugged, so Cartman sat. After some time the fat boy spoke.
"You know you don't belong here Stan."
"I know, I've known that but I don't know how to leave. Everyone keeps telling me the same thing but I don't know what to do. I give up," Stan said, defeated.
Cartman glared. "No, I won't hear a word of it Stan. You are not giving up."
"I have to. I don't have any leads, any clues."
Cartman looked at the boy in the red poofball hat. "Then I'll give you one."
"What?" the little boy looked up.
"I'll give you a clue, a lead. I told you before I'd help, so here I am."
"Really? You- you can help me?" Stan said, amazed.
"Sure I can. The Stan I know doesn't give up that easily, not at all."
Stan looked at him. Cartman smiled.
"Remember when you were five and wanted nothing more than to learn how to ride a two-wheel bike? You didn't care how long it took, you still did it. You fell off your bike so many times I lost count. You almost broke your arm, learning how to ride that thing. But you did it; in the end you did it. You were one of the first to ride a bike in kindergarten. Some still had to learn in first grade! A few in second," Cartman reminisced.
Stan smiled. "Yeah, I remember that. Riding without training wheels was more important to me than bathing and brushing my teeth or anything."
"See? So don't give up. With the help I give you, you'll be able to finally go back home," Cartman said encouragingly.
Suddenly a dark shadow fell over them, a tall figure whose face was hidden and all in black.
"You don't belong here child!" he pointed a finger at Stan and the room dissolved. And Stan woke screaming again.
"No! No! I'm sorry! It was a mistake! A mistake!" Stan cried to the doctors who ran in.
"You had one shot young man. And in the mental hospital, you don't get many shots," Dr. Leon spoke.
A straightjacket was put around the boy and he was carried off to another room. This one was small and padded.
"It was just a dream! Just a dream! You have to believe me!" Stan screamed.
The door slammed shut and Stan was left to wallow in his own pity and tears. He didn't have anymore dreams after. Morning came and Dr. Leon stepped inside the padded room.
"Good morning Stan, how are you?"
"Bad, I don't need to be in here," Stan commented.
"It's time for breakfast. Do you think you've calmed down since your episode last night?"
"Yes. It was only a nightmare, it happens to everyone."
"True, unfortunately in here, we are a bit more cautious."
"Well I'm fine, and safe."
"I'd like to take this straight jacket off you but do you think you'll be okay without it off?"
"Yes. I am one hundred percent calm right now, I promise not to attack," Stan rolled his eyes.
The doctor looked over his shoulder- no doubt at someone standing outside the door. He bent down and helped Stan out of the contraption. He then gave him a tray of food.
"You eat up and then you'll be able to use the washroom. You have another appointment with Dr. Reynolds at 1:30 today. Do you understand?"
"Do you have any questions Stan?"
"When can I leave?"
The man smirked. "Not until we figure out what is wrong with you."
"I thought you were supposed to figure that out yesterday!" Stan raged.
"You aren't the only patient here you know. And now that you've mentioned these so called 'dreams', we really have to look into that. Anything else?"
"Am I going to stay in this stupid room all day?"
"Visiting rights are still available for you so I am sure your family will be stopping by. You can also use the rec room if you are proven to behave."
"I already did so, I'm not crazy," Stan stretched these words out.
"Well, eat up." Dr. Leon waved and left the room.
Stan sighed before eating the crappy eggs, dry pancake, and pulp-filled orange juice. He was allowed to take a quick shower after, before being escorted to the rec room where other calmer patients resided. He was given strict guidelines before allowing to leave on his own. There wasn't a lot to do there. A crowd of kids were at the TV watching the stupid Disney Channel, another crowd were hogging up the video games. The toys there were old and probably dirty and he wasn't one to read a lot so the books were out of question. He sat on an old stuffed chair and played with a little yellow car with mild interest. At 11:00, he was taken from the room.
"Now what?" he asked nervously.
"Relax son, you just have some visitors," said the doctor who escorted him out. He was taken in a small private room where his parents and sister were.
"Remember, any signs of struggle, it's over," warned the doctor before leaving.
The first thing Sharon did was kiss him on the side of his head. "Oh Stanley, we are so sorry. Can you ever forgive us?"
"No," he spat. "You sent me to a nut house for no reason!"
"Well, we do have a reason. We wouldn't do it if we didn't have one," Randy said.
"I am normal. I am not going crazy. Jesus Christ, why don't you believe me?" he asked wildly.
His parents shared a look. Shelley had tears in her eyes.
"It's- it's just not normal to make claims of a life that doesn't exist, son. It is a cause for alarm," Sharon said.
"I'm telling you, it's you guys who are acting crazy, not me," he pointed.
At that moment they heard a rushing sound outside the door and Stan's Uncle Jimbo hurried in. Stan's eyes went wide- his uncle was wearing a navy blue business suit. What the-?
"Sorry I'm late, was held up at the office. I heard what happened," he gasped, taking a seat next to his family.
"Uncle Jimbo, what are you doing wearing a suit?" Stan asked.
"I just came here from the office Stanley," he answered.
The bald man shared a look with his half-brother.
"Why, at the bank of course."
"B-bank?" Stan rubbed his eyes. "No, no, no no no no. You do not work in a bank, you own a gun shop and like killing animals!"
"What?" it was Jimbo's turn to look alarmed.
"You go hunting with your friend Ned all the time! You know how against it I am," Stan spat.
"This is what we were talking about," Randy said on the corner of his mouth.
"Stanley, how could you say that? This whole family loves animals," Jimbo stated.
Stan was carted off by two doctors two minutes later and placed in the same padded room.
"You will stay here until your appointment with Dr. Reynolds, got it?" Dr. Leon asked and locked the door behind him.
Stan kicked at the door but it was no use, he couldn't leave. He sat there in a straight jacket, barefoot in a white room with no way out. But at least Stan had one thing on his mind- his latest dream. Cartman seemed so real… he had told him he would be helping him out, giving him a clue. Was this true? Was this possible? He didn't know what the clue could be, much less if Cartman could actually give him any. He doubted he'd be able to visit him, not with his recent 'outbursts.' But it had to be a sign, had to. So Stan continued to think on it until 1:30. He had his shoes put on and was taken out the room and led down to Dr. Reynolds's office. Thankfully he was able to convince the doctors he was going to remain calm so they took off the jacket before he walked in.
"Hello Stanley, how are you doing today?" the middle-aged woman asked.
"They put me in a straight jacket! Twice! But I haven't done anything remotely dangerous! I haven't attacked anyone."
"I'm sorry sweetie but, it's just for a precaution."
Stan sighed as he took a seat. They talked for a while before Dr. Reynolds asked of a curious topic.
"I heard you have been having strange dreams."
"Oh, those," Stan said dully.
"Mind if I ask about what?"
Stan sighed. "It's of my family telling me I don't belong here. This other mystery voice keeps telling me it too."
"I don't know who it is, I just hear him all around me. He actually appeared as a shadowy figure in my last dream."
"Oh?" she was writing this down. "How long have you been having these dreams dear?"
"Wednesday I think. And you know what? I think I finally know what they mean. I think I've finally figured them out."
"I think everyone is telling me I don't belong here, right here, in this life. They're really emphasizing on not belonging here. I know they mean I have to get back home, back to my old life. Does that make sense?" Stan wondered.
"Of- course. Continue," Dr. Reynolds bit her lip as she wrote.
"Last night, one of my friends appeared in my dream and told me he's going to help me out. I'm excited, I think he's telling the truth," Stan smiled.
"And which of your friends is this?"
"Cartman, the fat one I told you about yesterday. He told me he's going to help me, give me a lead. It's a sign, I'm finally going to go back home," Stan was really happy now.
Dr. Reynolds blinked at the look on the child's face; he was really in his own world now. "So, you still believe you are just a fragment of some sort in an alternative life Stanley?"
"Yeah. I still think something happened to set this off. Now I just need to know what, and get out of here."
The doctor smiled sadly. "You know you cannot leave here until you are discharged right dear? There is no way you can escape our security cameras or guards."
Stan frowned. "Maybe…" but he hoped he was wrong. Cartman promised he was going to help him. He just felt it. The session ended after an hour and Stan was placed back in the padded room for extra precaution. His family had long since left and he was not trusted back in the rec room. Dinner was meager and the rest of the night horrible. He fell asleep in the soft room, thankfully without a straight jacket but a nice warm blanket. He tossed and turned. There were no signs of any dreams and he knew it was because he had finally figured them out. All he had to do was act on them, if that were possible. He slept for the most of five hours before his sensitive ears awoke him to the sound of the door creaking open. He blinked in the soft light.
The figure of Eric Cartman stood there, smile on his face.
"Hey dude, I've come to bust you out."
One chapter left! Please review to see it sooner!
I ship: Stan/Cartman <3
Sharon: What is it honey? (gasp!) My baby's killed again!
Haa, I love that line.
TO GO HOME
Stan sat in disbelief, eyes on the fat silhouette in front of him. He rubbed his eyes just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Cartman was still there.
"Hey," Cartman waved a hand, a small smile on his face.
"What-how? How the hell did you get here?"
"Long story. Well, short one actually," he thought.
"How did you know I was here? Is this a f*cking joke or something people do to others here, just to see if they're crazy or not?" Stan demanded.
"It's no joke. I don't know what it is. I hadn't heard from you all weekend. I wanted to know where you were. Then I got a note. I'll show you later. Anyway, I knew you needed my help and well, intuition kicked in. I just knew you were here. So I hopped a bus and came here," Cartman semi-explained.
"What the hell is going on here?" Stan asked again.
"Listen dude, I don't hold all the answers. All I know is I have to get you out of here, now. I don't know how long I can remain unseen."
"You're telling me! How the f*ck did no one post you?"
"I don't know. I just know that someone might soon if you don't hurry."
Stan looked at him, blankly. "You're busting me out?"
"I'm busting you out," Cartman smiled.
Stan got to his feet, looking around for his shoes. Cartman presented them in his hand.
"I keep telling you I don't know! I just knew where they were! Hurry!"
Stan put his socks and shoes on faster than he ever had and followed Cartman out the room. As they hurried down the halls Stan noticed two things: one, they seemed to be empty, and anyone who was on the floors seemed to look away the moment the two boys came in view, and two, the security cameras panned in different directions whenever they came in view too. Finally they made it out the doors. They hurried across the street and hid behind some bushes. Stan peeked over them to see the tall building in view. He turned to face Cartman.
"I cannot, cannot believe it was that easy to escape," he gasped, filled with adrenaline.
"I know. I didn't know how much further my good luck would last."
Stan frowned. "Now that we're out- would you please explain to me what the hell is going on?"
Cartman rolled his eyes and sighed. "Last night, while wondering where you are, I got a tip. A note."
"What kind of note?"
"I'll show you later. After the note, I just knew you were here. So I went on the bus and found the place, and found you."
"With no troubles from anyone in the mental hospital?" Stan asked wearily.
"None. I find it odd too."
"And that's it?"
"Basically. I told you I'd help and I guess, someone out there knows the same thing."
"Really?" Stan raised a brow.
"Here"- Cartman pulled out a small scrap of paper from his pocket.
Stan read aloud, "'Meet me where it happened.' Where what happened? Who's this note from?"
"When I began worrying where you were yesterday, I walked into my room and found this on my desk. I don't know how it got there or anything," Cartman said honestly.
Stan frowned as he studied the note and the boy. "You know, I had a dream last night where you told me you'd give me some sort of clue or lead."
"Really?" Cartman looked at the note in the smaller boy's hands. "Guess this is it. You'd think I would know what was going on."
They heard chirping from birds in the trees around. The sun was beginning to rise. Suddenly an alarm rang out; sirens blared red and lights turned on all around the hospital.
"Oh sh*t! They must know I escaped!" Stan cried.
"Come on!" Cartman pulled on his arm and together the two ran. They ran and ran as far from the mental hospital as they could. They finally found a dumpster and collapsed against it.
"Guess- guess we're on the run now," Stan said, chest hurting.
"Yeah. I only brought $15 with me so, let's hope we can get your life sorted out before it runs out," Cartman told him, pulling out a ten dollar and five dollar bill.
"We will," Stan said determined. "You're here; we were able to escape without a hitch. It's a sign that things are finally going to work in my favor."
"I hope so. I do feel bad you have to be like this, confused and everything."
Stan gave him a funny look.
Stan sighed. "You're- you're just not this nice in the life I know. It's very very weird."
"Oh. I'm a complete ass then?"
"Yeah. The worst kid in school. You find joy in other people's misery. You never learn from your mistakes. You have no conscience. And above all, you don't help people."
"Not even you?"
"Not even me."
Cartman looked confused. "I believe you. It's just kind of hard to believe that I wouldn't like you."
"You like me- enough," Stan added. "We don't fight as often and we can be pretty tolerant of each other. We have some things in common. But… Kyle... Kyle's my best friend. It's really hard to do anything without him," he said sadly.
"So Kyle is nice I take it?"
"Yeah. Nicest friend I could ask for," Stan sighed.
"Guess you have more memories with him than me huh?" Cartman said softly.
"A lot more. We're closer than brothers. I'm closer to him than I am with my own sister, and he's closer to me than his brother."
"Really weird to imagine."
Stan sniffed. "And it's not just him. It's my family. I really miss my family. I miss my mom's dinners. Her meatloaf. Reading to me. Hugging and kissing me for no reason. Not snapping at me so much. My dad's embarrassing and stupid antics. Getting drunk. I even miss Shelley beating me up! I thought all my life that I would love for her to take on the role of caring, responsible loving big sister but I don't know if I want that anymore. I want her to push me down the stairs. Punch me. Give me a bloody nose. Throw me aside every time I try to use the bathroom. Flicking my ear… all of it."
Cartman didn't look at him. He put an arm on his shoulder and patted it. "Don't worry dude, I promise you, we are going to get those things back."
The two sat by the dumpster for a while, not knowing where to go, now that Stan was 'on the run' from the mental hospital. Stan was tired, only getting five or so hours of sleep. But now that it was morning, he was getting hungry too. Cartman took out his money.
"I don't know how long we plan to be on the run. I'd like to take you back to my place but my mom might find out and she'd fret. If she knew you were at a mental hospital… well, let's just say she wouldn't allow you to stay."
"So what do we do? I have to get things back to normal as soon as possible."
Cartman stood. "There's a Wendall's Burgers two streets away. I can pick us up some breakfast there. Everything off the breakfast menu is under five bucks. Beside, I'm not really hiding right now."
"You'd do that?" Stan asked.
"I'm helping you aren't I? What do you want?"
"The extra bacon and egg muffin. And apple juice."
Cartman tipped off his hat. "I'll be back soon."
Stan closed his eyes and waited for him to return. Twenty minutes later he came back with a bag. Stan dug into his food.
"Thanks dude," he said through his sandwich.
"I have eleven bucks left. We really have to think of something soon, man," Cartman warned him as he ate a sausage sandwich.
Stan stood after he was finished. "Let's get moving then. We might have to sleep on the streets until we find what I need to get back home."
Cartman sighed as he got to his feet too. "Guess so. As much as I like you Stan, I hope you know I have no plans sleeping anywhere but a bed as soon as possible."
They began to walk; careful not to make eye contact with any of the people they passed by. Cartman had taken the liberty of cutting off the wristband on Stan's wrist issued by Dr. Leon hours ago. The two didn't know where they were going but they had to get there. Stan kept going over the note, wondering who had written it and why. By that evening they took up seats at the park to rest. Cartman was complaining that he was hungry, Stan was too anxious to realize that he was too.
"'Meet me where it happened'… where what happened?"
Cartman sighed. "You don't recognize the writing?"
"No dude, not at all."
Cartman thought. "Anyone beside me who told you they might help you?"
"Nobody but you believes me in the first place," Stan emphasized.
Stan decided to skip the 'me' portion of the note and figure out the 'happened' part.
"I'm guessing the 'happened' points to something that happened this week or last. Nothing else would really matter," Stan thought.
"So, what happened?"
"I keep telling you and everyone the same thing! I woke up Saturday in this new life. Nothing else happened!"
"Something had to Stan. C'mon, really think hard… retrace your steps. Think back… all last week, what happened?"
Stan sighed but closed his eyes, going back from Sunday night, two weeks ago. "Last Sunday… I still had a cold. It was getting better. The Saturday before though, I had a walk-in appointment with my doctor. So Sunday, I spent all day in bed getting better."
"Okay, Monday," Cartman said.
"Monday… I finally felt better. Told and convinced Mom. She took me to school only an hour later. Mr. Garrison didn't snap at my reason for being late."
"Tuesday…" it was hard thinking of two weeks' worth of activity. "Tuesday was a normal day. School, played with you guys- you, Cartman, and Kenny I mean, all day at my house. Video games and Space Rangers. Normal dinner, homework, bedtime routine. Wednesday… was locked out of the house by Shelley on the way to school. Was late to school again, this time Mr. Garrison did not like my excuse so I had to be first to correct the morning's grammar lesson on the whiteboard."
"Anything else that happened Wednesday?" Cartman asked.
"I don't think so. Helped Dad wash the car and helped Mom make dinner. Then regular bedtime routine," Stan was thinking still.
"What happened Thursday?" Cartman pressed.
"School. Had a pretty adventurous day with everyone outside by Stark's Pond. Played some baseball and Space Tag. You broke Kyle's 'ray gun'. Then ripped on me because I had to spend the extra time taking a bird with a broken wing to the vet's office on the way home for dinner."
"Really?" Cartman looked surprised.
"Yeah. Older kids were throwing rocks around the place. I couldn't just stand there and not do something. But after that was again, normal family time. Dinner, homework, bed."
"Fine, and Friday?"
"Friday…was late to school, a third time," Stan rolled his eyes. "My alarm didn't ring so I woke late. Then I could not for the life of me find my left shoe. So was late again... I ran into some strange old homeless guy who kept asking me for money or directions or whatever. Was minutes late which pissed Garrison off. Then I got this huge headache during recess. It didn't go away all day. I stayed in bed all day after school, waiting for it to pass. Kyle came over later to play X-box. Then my mom read me a story and I woke up Saturday in a new life," he concluded.
Cartman took the note from Stan's hands and looked at Stan. "Out of any of those things, which was the most odd?"
"Well… none really. It was a fairly normal week for once."
"Something happened that week if it was so-called normal. Something had to have happened Friday because it was the following day you woke up like this."
"You didn't get any headaches before then?"
"Not since I was sick."
"Headaches and weird dreams seem to be a part of this. Think of Friday, what happened Friday?"
"I already told you!" Stan snapped.
"Think again dude!" Cartman demanded.
Stan sighed but did so. "If I had to choose one odd thing that happened Friday… it would have to be running into that weird man."
"He- he asked for some change for the bus. Oh! And directions to the store after. Which is a little strange since those are two different things. And he walked towards me with his hand in his pocket. I really, really did not trust him then." That's when a light bulb flashed in his head.
"Stan?" Cartman asked carefully.
"Him. It was him! It had to of been! Well I don't know that but if I'm thinking of the strangest thing that happened two weeks ago it was that!" Stan cried.
"But, it seems like it was just some random guy by the sounds of it."
"Maybe but- I can't explain it. I just know it was him. 'Meet me where it happened.' Where I ran into him that Friday! That's what 'happened.' I ignored him and thought he was crazy and didn't trust him!" Stan was standing on the park bench now.
"Well, all right then. So what do we do?"
"Find him! Let's go!"
"We should get some dinner first Stan. We hardly ate anything today," Cartman reminded him.
"I don't have time for dinner Cartman! This man could hold the answers to what I've been waiting for!"
"Come on. We can pick up a hotdog and a drink at the gas station for around five bucks."
Stan rolled his eyes. "All right fine."
They grabbed a dollar burger at the gas station and a small drink and ate under the roof of a nearby shopping district. Stan looked over at Cartman.
"Say, does your mom know you're helping me dude?"
Cartman looked up. "Well, I did tell her I'd be out for a while because you needed me. But I promised her I'd call if I could."
"Maybe you should."
Cartman looked at the five dollars in his hand. "I have to be careful with this. I think it could wait."
The two had been walking around all day and decided it best to search for Stan's mystery crazy man tomorrow. They took up residence in the park. Stan was able to fit in one of the tubes that served as a bridge on the playground- Cartman settled in the tower of the tallest slide. Morning came and after a drink of water they pursued on for the search of the crazy man. Once in a while Stan looked over his shoulder, making sure he wasn't being followed by anyone from the mental hospital. He made it a note to not go anywhere near home for he was sure his parents had been warned he escaped and might go there. All he could do was look for the man. Around noon Cartman caught up with the faster boy.
"Stan- Stan dude- do you even know where you're going?"
Stan frowned. "Actually…" he shook his head. "The place where it happened. Where I met the man. I'm pretty sure I have to go there."
"All right then. Where did you meet him?"
Stan cursed before sinking down on his feet. "Was late to school... walked on Herburst Street, it would be quicker… I have to go to Herburst Street."
Stan didn't eat anything that day; he was too focused on finding this guy. Cartman had spent the remaining five dollars at KFC before they walked on. They found Herburst Street one hour after Cartman's break. By that time clouds were rolling in and it had begun to rain. Stan looked up and down the sidewalk where he had run into the man, hoping he'd be there again. When he didn't see him he fell to the ground and wrapped his arms around his knees, head inside them, and wept. Cartman felt bad, his best friend had truly given up hope now.
Suddenly, Stan felt Cartman tap his arm. Stan did not want to look up however, he felt too much at loss.
"Dude! Dude! Look!"
Sighing, Stan took his head out, and his eyes went wide, he saw the back of a man fifteen feet away who wore the same deep green worn-out jacket he saw almost two weeks ago. Stan got to his feet and walked to him. The man was talking to himself.
"Excuse me?" he asked hesitantly.
The man turned around with bloodshot eyes. The same beard with leaves in it, the same man. The man then pointed at the boy's blue hat.
"You! It's you!"
The man fell to his knees. "Oh thank goodness I found you! Oh thank goodness! Oh, all will be right again!"
"You- you were looking for me?" Stan asked, surprised.
"Yes! Oh dear boy, I am so sorry, so incredibly sorry for what I have done."
"What did you do?" Cartman asked.
"Why, haven't you boys realized what has been going on lately? All week?"
"I noticed something fishy yes, but I'm the only one," Stan raised a brow.
The man sank to his knees. "It is all my fault. All my fault! Oh, he warned me… he did warn me of my powers. Did I listen?"
"Powers? Who warned-? Who? What the hell is going on?" Stan demanded.
The man sniffed and stood. "Forgive me, my name is Urklus."
"Urklus?" Stan and Cartman shared a look.
"I- I am- different. I cannot possibly explain it now but, well… have you two boys ever thought that there was more to life? More than we see and know? There may be others out there that posses far more than it appears?" the man, Urklus, asked.
"I guess… a lot of crazy sh*t happens in South Park," Stan answered.
The man rubbed his bagged eyes. "I am one of those people. I am able to do more, far more than the average human. I have powers that I did not know I possessed until quite shortly. I am able to do so much more than anyone. I can do so much just by thinking it."
"Wow," Cartman smiled.
"Trust me boy, you do not want this. It is a very dangerous way to live. And, I'm afraid I have proved it last week…" Urklus looked mournful.
Stan shook the rain out of his eyes. "What did you do to me then? What's going on?"
Urklus sighed. "Last week, I ran into you. You did not trust me when I asked for change for the bus and directions to the store."
"You had a hand in your pocket and- well, no offense but look at you!" Stan said wildly.
"I confess I do not look my neatest. Being homeless does that to you. Who wants to hire a crazed man in the first place? I set fire to the last office I worked in."
"Last week, you ran into me," he continued. "You did not trust me. Now forgive me but I do not take kindly to being treated that way by others. I always believed in respect for your elders from children. You ran off"- Urklus paused for Stan's name.
"Stan," Stan told him.
"Stan. You ran off. I thought this was the perfect opportunity to test out something I have been working on. To punish children who show no respect. Who cannot loan a quarter to a man like myself."
"And this was my punishment for not giving you two f*cking quarters?" Stan screamed.
"I did not mean for it to go this far! I only wanted you to feel remorse the rest of your day. It backfired. Screwed the world as I know it. But only in our perspective. Your friend here has not noticed any change has he?" Urklus looked to Cartman.
Cartman looked at them. "No," he said honestly. "Far as I know this is always how life was. I have nine years of memories. This is real life to me."
"I do not have great control over my powers as I said before. So I changed your life young Stan, for the worse."
"You're telling me," Stan scoffed.
"Once I realized what I had done I went out to find the boy whose life I had altered. Since I did not know you the only way I could give you any clues was to"-
"-to send messages in my dreams," Stan trailed. "You- you are the mystery man who has been in my dreams!"
"I confess," Urklus bowed his head sadly. "It was the only way I could try and warn you. Hopefully lead you to me. But I then realized you needed something more. Help. So I sent"-
"Cartman," Stan said in disbelief.
"I don't have anything to do with this though!" Cartman argued.
"I made him appear in your dreams Stan so hopefully, at least one familiar face would make you understand. I was the one who wrote the note. I knew he would stop at nothing to help you."
"I wanted to help Stan from the beginning, you had nothing to do with it," Cartman pointed out.
"Maybe not but I did allow you to lead him to me. Through the mental house you were in Stan."
"That's why we were able to escape without being seen…" Stan thought.
"And now, we have to put things right again. Before they find you young boy."
"So how can I get my old life back?"
Urklus sighed. "I am to take you to the Master, Master Johnan. He is the only one who truly has control of his powers. He helps out those who have troubles like me."
"So you really have powers? Like a super-hero or something?" Stan asked.
"Yes, but at a terrible price. As I explained already, it is not a good thing to have. All the magicians and illusionists out there have it better than us. They have control over what they do. I do not. You can say I am a very bad magician," Urklus sighed.
"So this Master guy, John or whatever"-
"Master Johnan," the older man corrected.
"Yeah, him. He'll be able to put my life right again?"
"Yes. He has been waiting for me to find you all week. He is not pleased with what I have done. He always said I was a lost cause."
"How do we get there? How far is it? How long will it take? How will he do it? Will it hurt?" Stan asked in almost one breath.
Urklus held out a hand to silence the child. "You are to come with me, I will take you there. He lives far from here, in Alaska."
"So how do we get there? A plane?" Stan hoped not, every time he had been on a plane he had thrown up.
"I will take you. I am able to disappear and reappear using just my mind."
"Cool!" Cartman smiled.
"It is safe though, right?" Stan asked hesitantly.
"Safe enough. It is one of the few things I have a good grasp on."
Stan frowned. "My friend Kyle"-
Cartman raised a brow.
"Reads Harry Potter. He told me characters in the books can disappear at will too. But if they do it wrong body parts can- go missing or something," Stan's stomach dropped.
"I promise you it will not happen. We will dissolve in the air, not be cut in half."
Urklus took hold of Stan's hand. Cartman stepped forward.
"Ay! What the hell?" he demanded.
Stan was surprised at how normal he sounded then.
"I want to come too. I risked a lot to help Stan out; I deserve to see what happens too."
Urklus sighed. "Very well." He took hold of the fat boy's hand too. "Hold on tight children and close your eyes." They stood there for a moment before they slowly began to dissolve into the air like dust before disappearing entirely. Their dust particles reappeared moments later in Alaska.
"Kick-ass!" Cartman exclaimed, looking around.
Urklus rubbed his chin. "A bit further than I would have liked. Anyway, follow me boys…"
They walked for a half hour or so before coming to an old home covered in snow. Urklus knocked on the front door.
"Master Johnan? It is I- Urklus, brining the child."
A minute later the door opened to reveal an even older man with white hair and a mustache. He hung over like a broken clothes hanger. "Come in," he whispered finally, after eying the two boys.
"Master- I am sorry for what I have done, the whole world- my fault- I didn't know"- Urklus immediately apologized at the man's feet.
"Get up Urklus, you useless old fool," the older man spat.
"Because of you the whole of the world has been changed. Everyone is walking around without a clue as to what happened. Of course the only one who knows of anything is this boy here, thanks to you." he nodded at Stan. "He's in another dimension because of you."
"Whoa, whoa, I'm in another dimension?" Stan gasped.
"So that is what I did? Send this boy into another dimension?" Urklus looked as shocked as Stan.
"Yes, there are many that exist. There is no such thing as one world, one life. We are all living an opposite lifestyle, where things are both far greater and far worse than they appear."
"So If I'm in another dimension, does that mean the Stan from this world is in my world?" Stan asked.
Master Johnan consulted a hanging calendar. "It is Sunday the twenty-first. Time fluctuations must have messed with things. I do not think there is any difference to the world you are from young boy. As far as I know it is still the Saturday you woke up here."
"It's- a week behind?"
"You are both here and there Stanley," Master Johnan explained.
"This is getting weirder and cooler by the minute," Cartman smiled.
"I'm in two places at once?" Stan's eyes went wide.
Mr. Urklus rubbed his chin before looking into a globe on a desk behind him. "Yes… yes… your mother has just checked on you. You are in bed, asleep."
"Oh my god…" Stan could not believe any of this. He shook his head. "So what do I do? How do I get back to my own world?"
Mr. Johnan rubbed his mustache before answering. "I believe the only thing to do is send you back. To merge you with the body of nine-year-old Stanley Marsh in your own world. When that happens I am sure the Stanley Marsh from this world will reappear as well."
"So where is the Stan from my world?" Cartman asked.
"His body and soul is floating around in the time fluctuation. Since the fool Urklus here"-
Urklus hung his head.
"Messed things up, he sent a Stanley from another world here. If I am correct, and am able to put things right… when you wake tomorrow Stanley, you will be home and the Stanley from this world will reappear in this world as if nothing happened."
"So wait. The real Stan I know, I mean, after everything that's been happening... Everyone thinks he's crazy and was in a mental hospital. Is that going to change?" Cartman asked.
"It shouldn't. The Stanley who belongs here will awaken in the mental hospital tomorrow morning. Confused surely as to what he is doing there. But he will be the real Stan from this world and it should not take long for him to convince his parents and the doctors there that he is normal again. He will have all the memories he has already had," Master Johnan explained.
"So when I wake tomorrow morning, will I have any memories of what happened or what?" Stan asked.
"You may, you may not," Master Johnan said simply.
All was quiet for a while. Master Johnan stepped forward. "Whenever you are ready to head back to your own world again Stanley, I will send you to it."
"How- how will you do that?" Stan asked nervously.
"With my mind," the old man wheezed.
Stan stood straight. "I'm ready."
Master Johnan glared at Urklus. "You are to remember to never do anything like this ever again, you hear? You are to report to me before you get another crazy idea, you understand?"
"Of course Master. I know I did wrong," Urklus looked helpless.
Master Johnan turned back to Stan. "You have six hours left until midnight. You will not go back until that time. I suggest you find a place to sleep after I have done my thing. It will be far easier, safer, and less frightening for you if you fall asleep and wake up, normally."
Master Johnan placed his hands over Stan's head and began to hum. The air around them glowed before it was over. Stan looked around. Nothing had changed.
"Head back to South Park Stanley. Find a place to sleep, and stay asleep. All will be well in the morning."
Stan thanked the man before he and Cartman were taken back home by Urklus. The man apologized once again before disappearing into the shadows, knowing it best not to do anything more for fear of messing something up again. Stan and Cartman looked at each other.
"That was pretty crazy wasn't it?" Cartman noted.
"Yeah. Well, the guy said I need to sleep. Gotta find a place to stay for the night."
Cartman thought. "Let's go back to my house, you can stay there."
"Dude, we live houses away. If they're monitoring my place they must be monitoring yours," Stan told him.
Cartman thought. "I have an idea."
The two reached Bonanza Street and as they suspected, it was littered with cars, police, and one mental hospital van. Cartman and Stan hurried over to the other side of the street and were able to hop the fence of Cartman's house- or crawl under a hole in it so to say. Stan was wearing Cartman's over-sized hat and jacket that concealed his own hat inside. Nobody looked twice at the boy who was dressed as Eric and the fat boy with him. Cartman opened the back door with a key and they were safe inside.
"My mom won't be home till later tonight. She has work."
"So where will I sleep?"
"The basement. It's the only option, she never goes down there. Don't worry, there are plenty of blankets."
"What about you?"
Cartman gave Stan a look. "I'll stay with you dude."
"Yeah. I'll fall asleep easily."
"Yeah, it doesn't take much for you to sleep like a cat," Stan grinned.
Cartman chuckled. "Want anything to eat before you sleep?"
"It's best I don't."
"Food helps you sleep," Cartman said lightly.
Stan ate a simple sandwich before he headed downstairs. It was getting dark outside now so it would be easier to sleep, although it was still raining, making the basement even colder than usual. Stan slept on top a lot of blankets on the cold, concrete floor and was covered in others. Cartman kept the light off, he knew his friend Stan was sensitive and could never fall asleep with a light on. The two were quiet for a long time. Finally, feeling like he might drift off soon Stan turned to Cartman.
"Hm?" he stretched.
"Before I get back to my own world- I just wanna say, thanks."
"Thanks for everything dude. For believing me from the start, helping me, everything."
Cartman shrugged. "It was nothing. I help out the Stan I know all the time. We're best friends."
Stan sighed. "Still, thanks. I'm going to miss you tomorrow. I don't want to go back to my Cartman."
"Well, thanks again."
"Oh here, you should take this too." Cartman gave Stan his hat and jacket back. Stan felt inside it, the note Urklus had sent Cartman was still in his pocket. He snuggled under the blankets and before he knew it, he was asleep.
The sun poked him in his eyeballs like a nail. Stan moaned and hid his face in his pillow. But now he could hear the annoying twittering of the birds in the nearby trees. He wasn't going to sleep now. He sighed and sat up- and gasped. He was in his bedroom! Stan looked down at his shirt- he was wearing his Terrance and Phillip pajamas. On his walls were the usual posters of school and the Street Fighter. He looked to his bedside table; Tommy and the Sea Monster rested on it, its spine worn out from all the years of usage. A huge smile spread on his face. Was he finally back to his old life?
His door opened and Sharon walked in. She kissed his forehead. "Good morning sweetie, how are you feeling?"
Stan had never been so happy to see his mother than at that moment. He wrapped his arms around her neck, squeezing hard.
"Stanley, are you okay?" she asked, touched but surprised.
Stan beamed at her as he let go. "I feel better. A whole lot better."
"Really? That was one nasty headache you went to bed with last night."
"I feel great Mom."
"Well I'm happy to hear that." She felt his forehead and cheeks. "You don't feel warm."
"The only thing I feel is extremely happy." Stan stood on his bed.
"Well I'm glad to hear it. I made your favorite downstairs. And I'm making meatloaf tonight," she winked.
Stan was about to follow her out when he caught sight of his calendar. It was Saturday the fifteenth. Had he really dreamed that whole thing? Shaking his head, he went downstairs. A plate of French toast covered in chocolate syrup and a side of bacon and glass of chocolate milk laid waiting for him. He ate like he never had before. Shelley who was sitting across from his rolled her eyes.
"Mom, where's Dad?" Stan asked.
Sharon rolled her eyes. "He has plans to get drunk with 'the guys' today."
Dad getting drunk… love it, Stan thought.
After breakfast he made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Stan had already loaded his toothbrush up with toothpaste before he was thrown from the sink. He landed by the door- hard.
"Damnit Shelley!" he cried.
"I'm using the bathroom first turd," she kicked him out and locked the door behind her.
Stan was about to tell on her, but thought better of it. Shelley was back to normal too. When she was finally finished (twenty minutes later) she slugged him on her way out. When Stan walked into the bathroom he found his toothbrush floating in the toilet. He sighed. He lost count of how many toothbrushes he lost due to the toilet. He used his finger as a brush before going downstairs to watch cartoons. Today was going to be the best normal Saturday ever.
Sharon poked her head out from the kitchen as she washed the dishes. "Not going to do anything with your friends today Stan?"
"Huh? Oh, I dunno. If any of them stop by, sure." He paused. "Mom, I have to tell you, I had to craziest dream last night."
"Oh?" she came into the living room.
"It was weird. I dreamed I was living some strange new life. No offense but you were bitchier in it. Shelley was nice. Dad wasn't a moron. I was a vegetarian. It was all really weird. And my best friend was Cartman. And Kyle hated me. It was weird because it spanned for a week you know? It wasn't just a bunch of things happening at once. It really felt like a week had gone by. In the end, you all thought I was crazy and sent me to a mental hospital where Cartman helped me escape. Weird huh?" he looked up at her.
Sharon smiled. "That isn't the craziest dream you've told me but it is funny."
"I had to tell you, make sure it was only that, a dream."
"Well I assure you it is. None of that happened, there's no way you could have lived another life a week ahead."
"I know," he turned back to the TV.
Suddenly he heard the sound of knocking on the front door. He opened it to see Kyle standing there with Cartman and Kenny.
"Kyle!" Stan hugged him but let go quickly when he saw the shocked looks on their faces.
"What the hell was that?" Kyle noted.
"Sorry- happy to see you dude. And you two," Stan smiled at Cartman and Kenny.
"Pff, what a fag," Cartman rolled his eyes.
"Stan, do you want to come with us to the park and ride bikes and skateboards?"
"Yeah! I'll be right out!" he shut the door and turned to his mother. "I'm going to the park with the guys, all right Mom?"
"Okay, be back before dinner."
Stan hurriedly dressed in his usual outfit of jeans, t-shirt, brown jacket and poof ball hat. He put his red gloves on his hands before getting his helmet and skateboard from his closet and ran to get his bike from the garage. Since Kenny didn't have a bike he allowed him to ride his own to the park while Stan rode his skateboard. When they reached East Snowy Hill Park, Stan tripped over his board. He got up to brush himself off and absentmindedly put his hand in his jacket pocket. He frowned when he felt something inside.
He pulled out a small piece of paper and gasped. On it read: Meet me where it happened. His lips were numb and it wasn't because of the cold air. It was written in the same untidy scrawl by Urklus. It was the same exact note he had given Cartman in the other dimension.
"Hey you little pussy! Are you coming or not?" Cartman called, ten feet ahead.
"I- coming!" Stan took one last look at the note before putting it back in his pocket and hurrying off to play with his friends.
The end. I hope you liked it! Tell me what you thought! Thanks!
I ship: Stan/Cartman <3
Sharon: What is it honey? (gasp!) My baby's killed again!
Haa, I love that line.
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