Be More Chill |South Park|

(1) Teach Me to Thrive

Waking up to your sister shoving a pillow in your face was never the highlight of anyone's day, but it was basically the common start to Stan Marsh's morning routine. "Hey, Turd! Did you use my toothbrush to clean the toilet, again!?" Shelly seethed through her braces before swinging the pillow down into Stan's face once more. How wonderful.

 Swatting her arms away, the younger teen glanced at his alarm clock to discover that he could have slept for another five minutes. Why do siblings have to be so cruel? He groaned and sat up, knowing Shelly would not rest until she got her beloved justice. "No. I did not. Plus, last time you found out it was one of your crappy friends who did that, not me," Stan spat before pushing past her to shove his feet into the slippers his best friend Kyle got him two Christmases ago. 

Stan was not really a morning person. No doubt Shelly played a heavy roll in that by finding some reason to be mad at him every morning. Yesterday his dog shat on her carpet, the day before that Kyle showed up just a tad bit too early to walk to the bus stop together, and the day before that Stan apparently ate her last yogurt cup in the fridge. There was no getting along with Shelly and Stan had long stopped trying. He still calls her a she-ogre behind her back just like he had back when he was ten.

It was no surprise that Shelly did not accept Stan's truth. "You had to! None of my friends were over yesterday and even your totally-not-boyfriend Kyle was a no show. It was just you, me, mom, and dad here all day yesterday. Therefore, it was you, Twerp," she insisted, shoving a distraught-looking toothbrush into Stan's face. The bristles were completely flattened and were stained beyond the normal white. 

Trying his best to not enter one of their daily fights, Stan cautiously pushed the toothbrush away with disgust. "Shelly, I was up late last night working on my science project. I forgot to brush my own teeth, much less the toilet's teeth," he argued, running a hand through his jostled hair. She stared at him with squinted eyes for just a couple more breathes before heaving in frustration and marching out of his room. With triumph in his chest, he closed the door behind her so he could get changed for another day at school. 

He got dressed and threw on the same letterman jacket he had been wearing since freshman year. Admittingly, it was sorta tight around his axials and was a tad short in length for his arms, but he loved the thing. He had considered giving it to Kyle, who stopped growing at the start of Sophomore year and actually fits the ancient jacket, but Stan was just too attached to the darn thing.

Grabbing his project and looping his right arm through one of his bookbag straps, Stan worked his way down stairs to greet his parents. His mother, Sharon Marsh, sat at one end of the table, stabbing some of their farm's lettuce with a fork. You could say despite living there for years, his mother never adjusted to farm life and even hates it. On the other end sat his father, the infamous Randy Marsh who has caused plenty of trouble for their strange town multiple times, pantless and gobbling down an entire turkey leg. He was clearly riding off a late night high, so Stan joined them silently without a word.

Breakfast was always rough. His mother was easily irritable in the morning, so she tried to be as reserved as possible to avoid any farm business, and his father typically was working off a hangover of some sort. Honestly, it did not even bother Stan at this point. He just sat, ate something to comfort his mother, and then left to meet up with Kyle at his front door.

Except Kyle was not at his doorstep today. The first anomaly in Stan's day. 

He waited at his door until he could no longer, checking his phone and sending a message to Kyle. At the bus stop, his other friends Kenny and Butters, along with ex-friend, Cartman, waited. Kenny and Butters held their usual conversation where Butters went in-depth about some story, whether his own or something he heard, and Kenny patiently listened with actual interest. Cartman stood looking the opposite direction to avoid contact with them, scrolling on his cell and trying to strike up a conversation with New Kid, the one Stan never learned the name of since they only ever called them Douchebag or Buttlord.