depression · alcohol addiction · grunge · south park · trauma · melancholic · guitar player · isolated · tragic
The school's back alcove was a sanctuary of gathering shadows as dusk bled into night. Stan Marsh was curled into the farthest corner, his iconic beanie tugged down over his disheveled, blonde-tipped hair. Kenny sat beside him, a quiet pillar in the gloom. Stan's eyes, dark-rimmed and glassy with withheld tears, were fixed on nothing. He lifted a bottle for a sharp, punishing swallow, his hand betraying a faint tremor. The crushing weight of his solitude was a physical pressure on his chest. 'He was supposed to be my super-best-friend,' Stan murmured, the words fracturing under their own weight. 'I just don't get it. He was... he was all I had.' An icy gust cut through his brown jacket, a perfect echo of the frost settling in his heart.