are you mine? - a south park style fanfic

Chapter 22 - Dead Man Walking

Tw: Mentions of abuse

Stan's Pov:

My body aches like it never has before. All I can feel is sharp pains piercing through each one of my limbs as every second of the day goes by. My god I wish I could fucking end it all right now. The last few days have been literal torture. My life has become what I tried so hard to get away from. That night I was stripped away from the only person who cares about me was the night I lost a lot of sanity. We pulled into our apartment tenant as my stomach swirled around with horrible aches, my eyes couldn't even let loose tears anymore, my nose burned for all the snot I kept sniffling. I already knew what was going to happen, I sat in the seat slumped over for just a bit more to try to mentally prepare myself for what I was about to have to go through, until I felt a heavy slap slam my head against the window. "Get ur ass out and get our shit, I don't want to hear a fucking word out of your mouth until you're done." My dad grabbed his 8th beer of the trip and slammed the car door on his way out. I took as much time as I could gathering our things, making slow trips to the garage and back. It didn't help my arms were pulsating with pain from the beating I had just taken earlier, every second I held our heavy packaging the felt like another punch. When I was finally done I nearly teared up remembering I had to go inside. I turned up my headphones full volume trying to drown out my emotions and thoughts, music really is the only thing I had left.

I walked in the door, hoping he'd already passed out from drunkness, but no, he was right there, sitting on the couch with an empty beer can, staring into my soul with nothing but evil in his eyes. He stood up and nearly stumbled, walking towards me at a steady pace with the beer in his hand. I tried looking past him and walking to my room, but was grabbed by the back of my shirt and swung to the ground. My music blared as he yelled at me, he finally realized I couldn't hear him because he ripped out my earphones and smashed my phone onto the ground. That was my breaking point. The only thing I had left was those headphones, he just fucked up everything. He pulled me up by my neck and swung me into the bar area, I hit my head against the hanging counter and fell into a chair. "YOU MAKE ME FUCKING SICK" he said as I looked up at him with a blank expression. I can't show him how much he's hurting me, he gets off on it, but when I don't show any emotion he goes all sicko on me, like now, as I looked up the chair was ripped from beneath me and thrown onto me. I swear I could've fucking believed he broke my rib with that stunt, the chair leg bluntly jabbed my ribcage and I grabbed my stomach wheezing from the pain. I can't do this shit anymore. Who fucking cares what I do to him, I want to make him fucking die. I pulled myself up fast and swung on him, causing his drunk as to fall back immediately. When he did I jumped on him quick and started punching. I swear at that moment all I could see was red. "HOW DO YOU FUCKING LIKE IT YOU FUCKING BITCH." I remember screaming out as I kept going. I felt him trying to push me off, but I put all my deadweight on him. I heard him yelp as I got a really good punch in his nose, I knew I broke it, but didn't care, all the years of having to put up with my own shit, my own broken bones, my own bruises and scars, I was finally getting my payback. I looked down and saw his face a bloody mess, all disfigured and shit. I finally got off seeing that I knocked him out, or.. killed him. It didn't even matter to me in that moment, I knew I needed to get out. I grabbed my dads phone and contemplated calling 911.. no.. they'd take my ass instead. I called the only number I could remember, Kenny's. Back in junior high Kenny made us all memorize his phone number just incase we were ever in trouble. By then, he was the only one with a car, even though he drove it illegally, he always said he'd be there to pick us up if we needed him. I crossed my fingers and waited for him to pick up. "Yo, who's this?" "Dude.. Kenny.. I really need you to come get me bro.. I'm in some deep shit." Kenny didn't even ask, he just said, "What's the addy dude?" I gave him my address and all he said was "Alright I'm on my way dude, don't die." As soon as the phone hung up I jumped up and ran to my garage. I grabbed my backpack and stuffed hella clothes into it, they crushed half the school papers I had in there, but I didn't care. I pushed it down on the ground and zipped it up to make everything fit, then had a random idea.

I knew if I just left my dad would file a police report on me and make it seem like I had gone crazy again. I walked back inside and grabbed a giant bowl, filling it with water. I walked over to where his body was and splashed it all on him at once, waking him up startled and halfway drowning. He layed there choking for a bit, I guess he didn't die after all. Lame. "What the fuck did you do." he said in a raspy voice. "What you've done to me my whole life." He started laughing harder and harder at that sentence, it pissed me off so badly I almost contemplated beating his ass again, until I heard a banging on the door. "Yo Marsh, Im here!" I heard Kenny yell from outside the door. "I'm leaving and I'm not coming back." I said while looking down at him. His laughing stopped, and he looked up at me with his nearly swollen shut eyes. "Do it. Make my fucking day." he said coldly while staring me down. I looked at him feeling nothing but disgust, and kicked him one last time before heading out the door. I walked outside and slammed the door shut behind me, which startled Kenny. I saw him in the corner of my eye examining the blood and scaring all over me, I would feel embarrassed but I was too pissed off from early to feel anything else. "Damn bro what the fuck happened?" I looked at him and looked back at the car we were walking to. "You don't even wanna fucking know."