I stare into my own blurry reflection on small switch blade. My thoughts run through my mind within only seconds, and I know it has to be done. I bite down on my bottom lip and tuck the knife into my pocket.
I don't care what apologies you may speak; you deserve what's coming to you.
I hope that the thoughts of what you've made me do, Stan Marsh, never leave you alone. You deserve the pain that I can only hope this causes you, and you will get it. You don't know that I know, and for your sake, that's probably best.
I slowly and quietly make my way through Stan's room with the dark lighting provided, and listen to the noise his door makes as it creaks shut. Not again will I have to put up with this. I know what you've done, and you're not getting away with it.
I don't care how long you scream; you deserve what's coming to you.
Making sure I knew exactly what I was going to do, I took a deep breath and relaxed myself. It was nothing I had to be nervous about. I had this planned, and everything was going to fall into place within the next six minutes.
I have help for the situation waiting right outside the Marsh home, and I am going to get away with this. There is nothing stopping me, and that's good. There will be no one to investigate what happened to you, and no one to find out how.
I don't care if you said you loved me; you deserve what's coming to you.
I deleted all the calls and messages on my phone earlier. It wasn't that hard to get a hold of a knife. You could buy one almost anywhere in South Park without an ID. However, I'm not stupid enough to buy one in town, so I went all the way to Denver to get the best one I could find.
Only the best for you, because this day will be memorable. I take a few steps closer and run my fingers along the edge of his sheets. I'm going to do it. I need to, and I think we all know that this has to be done.
I don't care if it makes you hate me forever; for you deserve what's coming to you.
I quickly glance outside the window and let a smirk play my features. I stare down at him on the bed. Now was the time. I pull the knife from my pocket and take a deep breath, opening it and bringing it to his neck.
He doesn't even flinch. He is perfectly still. I dig the knife into his skin, and carve it from his collar bone, to his jaw. His eyes shoot open upon the contact, and are immediately filled with terror.
"Kyle, what the fuck!" He shouts. I ignore his words as the blood begins to drip down my hand. I pull the knife away, keeping the same smirk on, and watching him scream. "WHAT DID I DO?" He continues to scream. Tears form in his eyes, and glide down the sides of his face.
"You know what you did, you cheat. You've been seeing Wendy this whole time," I calmly say, shaking my head in disapproval. His eyes go wide, and I bring the knife to the other side of his neck, carving a simple horizontal line. The blood flow increases, and I find myself proud with the work I've done.
I don't care how I've seen you suffer; you deserve what's coming to you.
He chokes out a few coughs, and finally mutters out the words, 'I love you.' I roll my eyes, smiling, and lean down, kissing him gently on the lips. He leaves within only a matter of seconds of me pulling away, and I nod.
I hop out the window of his room on the first floor, and run. I see the orange glow of the sun peaking over the trees in the distance. It was only a matter of time before the rest of his family woke up, and South Park found out that Stan Marsh was murdered.
Kenny jumps from the side of his house and looks excited. "Did you do it?"
I brush off my shoulders like I'm an accomplished person, and nod, "I'd do anything to relive that moment; the rush was great." He pats me on the pack, and pulls me into a hug.
"Finally, damn asshole deserved it."
"I know. Now let's go. We need to hide the evidence…"
Upon approaching the forest, we start a fire, and hide everything. Kenny helps me burn everything I used in the crime. My gloves, the knife, and the clothes I was wearing, besides my boxers. Kenny dumps the remains of the fire into the pond, where no one in South Park would think to look, and head off.
"Are we ready? I've got everything packed up in my car." He gestures across the street where our Land Rover sits.
"Yeah, let's go."
"To the only place where these dumb ass hicks will never come looking for us," Kenny continues.
"Canada," I finish.
Oh Stan Marsh, you're a fool. You think it's okay to be who you are without any consequences, but you're wrong.
I don't care that you're dead now; you deserved what you got.
And they call that revenge.