Where your favorite blogs come alive
Part Two
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Stan sat on his bed, crying like a baby, as he would call it.
One goddamn mistake cost me my future and my brother…
It’s been 30 years and he’s still mad, even after I saved him from the stupid portal…
He then notices the knife on his desk from earlier that day. He sees it and quickly backs away from his bed.
The trunk… the trunk of that car…
When that happened, Stan had been stabbed
I-don’t-know-how-many times, and he was in so much pain. It was almost impossible to get out of the trunk, but he managed to do it, somehow.
He grabbed the knife off his desk and sunk to the ground. He looked at it, its metal shining in the moonlight from the small window in his room.
Then he remembered an incident from when he and Ford were kids.
“Stanley! Fordsie! Come out, don’t be shy. I don’t bite…”
No… no… nonononono!... Stan dropped the knife.
Stan and Ford lived in the city as a kid, so it was decently dangerous. One day when Ford and Stan were working on the Stan O’ War, a strange man came out of the shadows and scooped them up. He told them to be quiet or else he would stab one of them. Stan and Ford both knew they couldn’t live without each other, so they kept quiet.
He took them to an abandoned warehouse, which had guns, knives and other weaponry. The man tied them up so they couldn’t escape.
Stan somehow managed to grab a small knife out of a box behind him and cut the ropes to save him and Ford, but the guy went looking for them. Stan and Ford had hidden in a closet by the door, and when the man wasn’t looking, they escaped.
They both were scarred by that experience though.
“Stan? May I come in? I-I wanna talk to you about something… I-I mean someone….”
No…no…
He picked the knife up once again. He looked at it, and made a small incision on his arm. Then another. And another. And another. The pain felt good.
“Stanley? Please answer me…”
“...”
Stan just made more and more incisions as the blood bled on to the floor to the sides next to him.
“Stan.”
“no…” Stan whispered in a hoarse voice.
“Stan, you haven’t locked the door so I'm coming in.”
As Ford opened the door, he stood in shock as he saw what his brother had done to himself.
“...S-Stanley?”