We wish death upon those who meddle

What time is it? It's crunch time!

POV: STAN MARSH

I'm pacing back and forth in my room when there's a knock on the door.

I walk slowly to the top of the stairs to get a decent view of the door, my mom walks up to the door and looks out that really small and kinda pointless hole in the door, steps back as if she's seen a ghost,

and screams.

Immediately I throw myself downstairs and stand beside mom, I look at her with wide eyes, she looks at me, hands covering her mouth.

"Mom, what is it..?" I murmur quietly, shaking from anticipation.

She looks at me, eyes wide with horror, and says,

"Kyle."

There's another knock on the door, followed by a quiet giggle.

"Staaaaannnn" He sing-songs, "I know you're therrreeee! C'mon, Stan, wouldn't want to break a PERFECTLY good door now, would we?"

I don't move.

I don't say anything.

Shelly walks down the stairs to see me and mom stood as stiff as stone, I nod at her to go back upstairs, she looks at me questioningly, then Kyle laughs again and pounds the door, and she looks at me, wide eyed and walks slowly over to mom, takes her gently by the arm, and drags her upstairs,

"This is your shit, deal with it yourself." She whispers to me as she walks past. "Just-" she pauses, "don't get hurt."

I look at her and smile tightly, and watch as she walks our dumbfounded mother upstairs.

This was my shit.

I'll deal with it.

Myself.

I take a step towards my door.

The sirens were blaring around me.

Then another.

There he was, covered in blood.

And another.

His limp body as I was dragged away.

My shaky hand moves towards the handle.

"I've always wanted to be on TV!"

I grip the handle.

And open the door.