Chapter Text
Chapter one: An Average, Boring Day
The sun had barely risen that morning in the boring and small town of South Park, Colorado. Even though the sun was peeking through the trees, giving the town a pretty, bright, and warm glow, it was still rather chilly. It was nearing the end of September, so the leaves were just finishing up their yearly routine to change from green to orange. And though it was only September, the ground was covered in patches of melting, white snow.
Four young boys, all teenagers, were standing by the same bus stop they stood by every morning ever since they were kids.
Usually, the mornings between the four friends were quiet, as they all just waited for the bus to take them to school. But sometimes, the peace would be broken. Sometimes it would be because of Eric Cartman attempting to piss off Kyle Broflovski again. This was very easy to do, because Kyle's temper is extremely thin and pretty much anyone is able to make Kyle lose his temper, especially Cartman.
Other times, it was Cartman (everyone called Eric by his surname) arguing with one of the other boys. (Usually Kyle, of course) Today was one of those days. Kyle and Cartman were arguing about the usual types of stupid ideas.
"That's not true, fatass!" Kyle exclaimed angrily. "Yuhuh! It's true! It's not my problem that you have a smooth little Jew brain upstairs!" Cartman exclaimed back.
Stanley Marsh sighed.
"What the hell are you guys fighting about today?" He asked tiredly.
Stanley, or Stan as he was more commonly referred to, hadn't been able to get much sleep lately. His dad, Randy, was up all night smoking weed after dinner, and then dancing like a leprechaun, as high as a kite, outside of Stan's room shouting profanities. His wife, Sharron, would scold him for it, but Randy's excuse was that smoking weed before going to sleep helped him relax.
Anyway, Stan turned to look at Kyle and Cartman. Kyle shrugged. "Fatass over here thinks that all mirrors contain ghosts," he shrugged. Stan raised his eyebrows in confusion. Cartman walked closer. "It's true, guys! If you do the right ritual, you're able to summon a fucking ghost, dude!" He said enthusiastically.
The fourth boy spoke up.
"That sounds made up, man," he mumbled. That was Kenny McCormick. Kenny always wore a large, oversized, orange Parka that never seemed to get too small for him, even though Kenny had been wearing that thing for years. In fact, it was always a little past his knees, no matter how much Kenny had grown. The Parka’s hood was always pulled by the strings as tight as possible, to keep his nose and mouth warm. This, of course, covered his mouth, so sometimes you'd have to ask him to repeat himself.
"What was that, Kenny?" Cartman asked. "I said that sound made up, dude!" Kenny said a little louder. "No, it's totes real. You guys are just little pussys 'cause you know it's true and don't wanna try it out," Cartman argued. Kyle gritted his teeth. "No, we're not pussys," he grumbled. "I'm just a little skeptical that ghosts even exist!" Cartman scoffed at this.
"Oh of course you don't believe ghosts are real, Jew pubes." Kyle's face began to turn red. "First of all, do not call me that ever again," he growled. Cartman rolled his eyes. "And secondly, what is that even supposed to mean? 'Of course you don't believe in ghosts'?" Cartman shrugged. "I dunno," he said stupidly. Kyle let out an angry shout. "You know damn well what that means, you obese asshole!" He yelled. "Aye! Don't call me fucking obese, Kyle! I'm not fat, I'm big-boned!" Cartman yelled back defensively.
Stan and Kenny sighed together tiredly and looked at eachother. This was gonna be one long ass morning.
The bus finally arrived after what seemed like ages. Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and then finally, Kenny, all walked onto the bus. Kyle and Stan sat in their usual seats, the very last seats. Kyle sat down first, grumpily facing the window, his grumpy face scrunched up into a scowl reflected in the window. Kyle stared at it for a moment and looked away. Stan sat down next to him, waiting for Kyle to cool down. Stan laid back, closing his eyes, his black hair pushing onto the back of the seat. Kenny and Cartman sat in their usual spots, too. Just one seat in front of Stan and Kyle.
Cartman turned around in his seat and began to tease Kyle some more. "Seriously, Kyle. How could you not believe in ghosts? There's like, a billion pieces of evidence as to why they exist!" Kyle grumbled something quietly under his breath. Stan shrugged annoyed.
"Cartman, why are you even talking about this?" He asked. Cartman grinned. "Well, I was walking home yesterday, and while I was, I felt this strange feeling wash over me for a split second. I stopped walking and looked up. And I could've sworn that I saw a floating figure stare back at me. But I blinked a few times and it was gone! So yeah, that's why ghosts are real." Cartman grinned as if he had accomplished something. Stan rolled his eyes. “That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard of,” he shrugged.
A boy named Bradley Biggle overheard. "Did that really happen?" He asked with his eyes wide. Kyle finally acknowledged their existence. "God, please don't tell me you actually believe this r-tard," he said, annoyed. He had his eyes closed somewhat tightly.
Stan noticed that a small lock of Kyle's curly, bright red hair was peaking out of his bright green hat. He figured it must've bounced out when Kyle was in that heated argument with Cartman. Stan always liked looking at Kyle's hair. To him, it was so endless and wild, but that made it fun to look at. He didn't bother saying anything about it, though. Kyle always hated it when his hair showed. For whatever reason, he got really pissed off when people saw his hair. He's had that same green hat since he was a kid. Kyle undoubtedly had some sort of emotional connection to the hat, because only on very rare occasions did Stan, Kenny, or God forbid Cartman ever see Kyle's hair. Stan and Cartman used to be attached to some old hats too, but they slowly stopped wearing them over the years.
Cartman frowned at Kyle. "C'mon, Kyle, don't get all agro at me because you're pissed off that Bradley actually knows some truth when he hears it." Kyle stood up from his seat. "I'm not pissed off!!" Kyle yelled louder than he meant to.
"Hey!" The bus driver exclaimed suddenly. "Kid in the back, stop being so loud!" He called. Kyle groaned. "Sorry!" He exclaimed back, frustrated.
Kyle sat back down in his seat, facing the window once again. The bright sunrise was shining down on the quiet mountain town, and on Kyle's already very red and heated face.
Cartman sat back down and looked across the row. "Hey! Butters!"
A small blonde boy turned around. He had an innocent, and perfectly plump little face. He looked much younger than he actually was. (He was 15, but looked around 10-12 years old) He could totally pass for a normal little boy, aside from the large, pink scar going down his left eye. He had gotten the scar from an accident with knives back when the boys were young children. (it’s a long story, and not very relevant to anything right now) The boy's name was Leopold Stotch, but everyone called him Butters.
Butters noticed Cartman. "Oh, heya Eric!" His somewhat southern accent chirped out happily. He looked at the other boys. "Mornin' fellas!" He waved at them. Butters was such a happy go lucky kid, he always had been. So bright, innocent, gullible, and naive, no matter what happened to him. Cartman pointed at Butters.
"Butters, let me ask you a question," he said. "Do you believe in ghosts?" Butters thought for a moment. "Uh, I don't know! Dad says ghost's ain't real, but, I've heard some pretty spooky things around town," he said. "What did you hear?" Cartman asked. "Well, for example, when I was 8 or maybe 10, I was doing that weird trend that was goin’ around at the time where you summon that one dead rapper. I think it was Biggie Smalls or somethin'? Anyway, I could've sworn I saw him lookin' at me through the mirror!" Cartman laughed.
"Sweet, dude." He turned back to Kyle. "See? Stop living in denial, Kyle. Ghosts are real," he said in a sarcastically hushed voice. “Butters is mentally 5, so even he doesn’t know what he was talking about,” Kyle mumbled. Cartman scoffed. “Quit denying the truth, dude!” he exclaimed. Kyle shrugged loudly and plopped back down in his seat, folding his arms and crossing his legs and scowling.
“Aw, what’s wrong, Kyle? Are you mad?” Cartman teased. "Don't talk to me," Kyle scowled, looking at the window again. "What was that Kyle? Are you finally admitting I'm right again?" Cartman teased. Kyle growled under his breath. “Aw, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that,” Cartman said in an annoying voice. “Screw you, Cartman!” Kyle snapped.
Stan sighed, annoyed. He really wasn’t interested in hearing whatever childish little argument Cartman and Kyle got into today, as he was more tired than anything. He didn’t have enough energy to snap at Cartman for Kyle to get Cartman to fuck off. "Butters, don't buy whatever bullshit that fat liar is feeding you!" Kyle snapped.
Yep, this was just gonna be another average, dull day in the small and snowy town of South Park.
As the boys finally made it to school, Stan was talking about his dad. "Yeah, sorry about all the yawning. My dad has been keeping me up all night." "He's still doing it?" Kyle asked, surprised. Stan nodded. "Yeah, sadly." Kyle shook his head. "That's ridiculous. If it were me, I would've done something about it myself," he said. "I tried to do something about it, but whatever I did, my sister would come out of her room and scream at me because I woke her up. I swear to God she's only doing that because she just wants an excuse to yell at someone, since she can't yell at Dad anymore."
"When's Shelly moving out? Isn't she 18 yet?" Kyle asked. Stan shook his head sorrowfully. "Yeah, but she hasn't finished high school yet." Cartman laughed. "You're seriously letting a chick boss you around?" He asked. "If you were me, I would've said, 'Aye! Shut your ass up and go make the bed'" Cartman then laughed as if he had told a hilarious joke. Kyle gave him a weird look. "Dude, do you even know which chick we're talking about?" He asked. "Yeah, Stan's pussy little sister," Cartman said. Kyle shook his head, laughing a little. "Uh, no. Shelly's the girl who babysat you when you were a kid!" He exclaimed. Cartman was silent for a moment. "Oh..." He said quietly. "That Shelly..."
The four finally made it to their first period, English. Mr Garrison had changed what grade he was teaching for what seemed like the hundredth time. This year, he was teaching 9th grade language arts. This just so happened to be the exact same class that the four boys were in. At the beginning of the year, Kyle joked about how they were never gonna escape Mr Garrison, no matter how old they got. Mr Garrison cleared his throat once the morning announcements concluded.
"Alright, students. Let's take our seats."
Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny all sat in the front corner of the class. Stan and Kyle had desks right next to each other, and Cartman and Kenny were right behind them. This was perfect, because since they were all so close together, it made it easy for them to pass notes. Sure enough, around 10 minutes after class had started, the notes began to pass.
The first one was from Stan. It read, "What am I gonna do about the whole Randy situation?" The first one to get it was Kyle. He wrote, "Idk, dude. I'd talk to both your parents." The note was then passed around. Kenny wrote, "I second that" and Cartman wrote, "Do what you want, man."
When Stan got it back, he was about to write his response, he felt a small piece of notebook paper hit his foot. He looked down and picked it up. He opened it up, and immediately knew that his girlfriend of five years, Wendy Testaburger, had written it. He had known this because of the glittery light purple gel pen she always used when writing casual notes in class.
It read, "Wanna go to Stark's Pond tonight? ♡︎" Stan felt his face blush. He turned around. Wendy and her best friend, Bebe Stevens were both giggling quietly while looking at Stan. He turned around and took his pencil. He wrote, "Sure, babe ♡︎". His pencil writing looked so plain compared to Wendy's pretty ink. He folded it back up and handed it to Kenny.
"Give this to Wendy," he whispered. Kenny nodded and turned around. Wendy smiled and took it. As she read it and then showed it to Bebe, the girls giggled again.
"Uh, is everything okay back there, girls?" Mr Garrison suddenly said. Everyone looked at Mr Garrison and then Wendy and Bebe. Bebe shook her head quickly. Wendy smiled and said, "No, sir! Everything's fine!" "Alright, now if y'all will allow me to get back to my lesson..." Garrison turned back to the board and continued rambling on about whatever that day's lesson was.
Stan sighed happily, excited that he was going on a date with Wendy that night. Kyle suddenly pushed a piece of paper on Stan's desk. He picked it up and read it. "You should probably ask to go to the bathroom before you throw your heart up lol" Stan quietly chuckled at the writing, and passed it to Cartman and Kenny, who both left, "lmao '' on the side.
The rest of the day went on rather uneventfully. Everyone just sped through their classes, and Stan couldn't stop thinking about his date with Wendy that evening. When Stan finally got home, he quickly ran upstairs, zooming by his mother, who was by the oven pulling out a baked potato.
"Oh, no hello for your mom?" Sharron asked. "Sorry, hey Mom!" Stan called from a distance. Sharron sighed and shook her head. "Teenagers..." She chuckled. "Never have time for you these days."
Stan threw his backpack onto the ground and flopped onto his bed. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to already see a new text notification. He quickly went to his text app and saw Wendy had texted. She typed, "What time? ❤️" Stan thought for a moment. "Five sounds good?" He typed. He anxiously waited for Wendy to give him the text of approval. Finally, Wendy's response popped up. "Ok, sounds good".
Stan felt his fluttering smile spread across his face. He checked the time. 4 pm, perfect. He jumped out of bed and pulled his black beanie off, revealing his messy hair. He looked at himself in the mirror. "God, I look like a dog," he scoffed at himself, fluffing out his dark black hair.
Stan looked through his drawers, desperately trying to look for a hair brush or comb to attempt at taming his hair. Suddenly, a knock on the door was heard. But Stan couldn't hear it over the sound of his own rummaging. The door opened, and Randy walked in.
"Hey Stan," he said. Stan turned around. "Oh hey Dad," he said. "Can I borrow your hair brush? I can't find mine." Randy cleared his throat. He was carrying a small cardboard box with the word, "STANLEY" on it. "What's that?" Stan asked. "Well, I was looking through the attic and found this box. I think it has some of your old stuff in here," Randy said. He placed it on the floor and slid it to Stan. "Let me know if you wanna keep any of that stuff or not, okay?" Stan nodded. "Okay, Dad."
Randy sniffed. "Alright, well, I'll be in the barn if you need me," he said, not really knowing what else to say. "Okay, bye Dad," Stan said awkwardly. Randy left the room and went back downstairs. He had left the door open a crack, as usual. This always pissed Stan off. He grumbled annoyedly over to the door and shut it closed.
It's always been like this, well, it's been like this lately. Stan and Randy had become totally awkward towards each other for no particular reason. Stan hadn't really noticed it, and Randy hadn't either.
Stan then walked over to the box, picking it on and carrying it to his bed. He jumped onto his bed recklessly, whatever was in the box making a rustling sound as it shook. He sat up, placing the box on his lap. Stan brushed his fingers over the top of the box, as it was incredibly dusty. Stan decided to blow the dust off, but all this caused was for Stan to start coughing. He let out a sneeze, and more dust floated around him.
He finally opened the box and peered inside. Stan's eyes slightly widened. He hadn't seen any of that stuff for years. He began to rummage around the box, and saw many things from his childhood. There was stuff in there like Terrance and Phillip puppets, a photo of him and Wendy when they were 12, a t shirt that Randy made him wear all the time to promote the family business that said, "100% HEMP: Tegridy Farms'', and even a group photo of the Stan, Kyle, Cartman and Kenny all together. Stan slightly smiled at this picture. They were all so young and innocent looking in that picture. He put it next to him, along with the photo of him and Wendy. It was like traveling through his childhood. After a while, Stan had made it to the bottom of the box where he reached the last thing. He pulled out whatever was at the bottom and felt his heart do a flip.
It was the old red and blue poof ball hat that Stan would always wear up until he turned 13. He had stopped wearing it shortly after his 13th birthday because he felt he was getting too old for it. Stan felt many memories flood back to him, and smiled. He placed the hat to his side and boxed up whatever else he decided not to keep. He placed the box outside his door and wrote the word," DONATE" on a sticky note and placed it on the lid.
Stan looked at everything he kept. He pinned the photos to his thumbtack board and put the Terrance and Phillip puppets on his shelf along with his hat. He then smiled. Suddenly, he had an idea. He grabbed his phone and took a photo of all the goodies he found in the box, with the red and blue poof ball hat in center stage. He then sent it to the group chat with him, Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny. He captioned the picture, "look what I found." A few minutes later, Kyle texted back, "OMFG IT'S YOUR HAT" and then Cartman texted, "Damn when did you stop wearing that thing again?" Stan chuckled at his friends’ remarks.
He suddenly remembered what he was supposed to be doing. He still had that date with Wendy in about 40 minutes.
At 4:45 pm, Stan had his ice skates tied in a knot, carefully placed into a bag and ready to go. He rushed downstairs and ran into the kitchen. "Can you drive me to Stark's Pond?" He asked Sharron. "Why on Earth do you need to go there?" She asked. "I'm going ice skating with Wendy tonight," Stan explained. Sharron shook her head. "No, Stanley. I'm sorry, but it's getting late and South Park is a long way. Besides, dinner is almost ready."
Stan's heart dropped. "No! I need to! Wendy's waiting for me!" "I'm sorry, Stan. You're just gonna have to tell Wendy you can't tonight," Sharron said a little more firmly. "But-" "Drop it, Stanley!" Sharron snapped. Stan shrugged loudly, frustrated and annoyed. He stomped back upstairs, slamming his room's door behind him.
"Stanley Marsh, you come down here right now!" Sharron yelled up. Randy came into the room, wearing large gloves which were covered in some sort of green liquid. "What's going on?" He asked, pulling them off. Sharron scoffed. "Your son just yelled at me and ran up the stairs and slammed the door," Sharron explained, really annoyed. Randy sighed. "We really do have teenagers now, don't we?" He said. "Randy, this is serious. You need to talk to your son about his attitude problem!" Sharron exclaimed. "Alright, alright. I'll talk to the boy," Randy tiredly said.
He slowly trotted up the stairs, accepting the fact Stan and Shelly weren't kids anymore, they were growing up and experiencing all that comes with it.