Grandma
Butters stepped into the hospital room his grandmother was in. His prediction wasn't far off. She had a breathing tube and catheter in. The doctor told him she wasn't brain dead, but her chances of recovery were slim. As her personally appointed power of attorney, Butters was the only one who could decide to pull the plug on her or not, and he would have to make his decision soon.
Butters walked up to her and looked at her. She wasn't the same full figured woman she was when he was ten. She was thin and frail, her body ravished by illness and chronic pain. All the bravado she had was gone, and all that was left was a shriveled up husk. He had to help his parents take care of her once things got really bad, but instead of the illness humbling her, it made her even more vile, which Butters didn't think was possible, but it was. She yelled at him, called him means things, used her last remaining bits of strength to pinch him and throw silverware at him. Upon finding out he was in a relationship with Cartman, she started calling him sick, a faggot, and told him in graphic details all the horrible ways he would die because of his degenerate behaviors.
For his part, Butters never reacted to her. He took care of her. He fed her, knowing well he could stuff her mouth with too much food and she would choke and it would be deemed an accident. He bathed her, knowing that he needed to use the slightest strength to hold her head under water and claim she slipped. He kept her warm, knowing he could pile on the blankets until she was smothered. He sighed and kept his head down knowing that she was at his mercy, and she wouldn't turn him into a murderer.
Now came the final act. She had become so ill from a recent case of pneumonia that she fell into a coma. Now that she was unconscious was when Butters and his parents were shocked by the news, she left everything to Butters, including power of attorney, citing that she had personally told him what to do in the event that she ever loses consciousness. With tears in her eyes, Linda asked her son what his grandmother had said, and all Butters could do was purse his lips and say it was private. But that had been a cover, he didn't know, they never had that conversation, and while a part of him thought his grandmother was senile enough to confuse him with another family member, the truth was this was her final act of torture towards her one and only grandson. She forced his hand, now he would truly have to choose between being merciful and being a murderer.
His grandmother's lawyer privately informed Butters' he had three days to decide on whether to pull the plug or not, or else power of attorney, as well as all her things and meager fortune, would be reverted back to his mother. The lawyer was under strict guidance to tell this part to Butters' privately, knowing full well his parents would make him delay his decision if they knew of this deadline. Butters had wanted to let the time pass himself, but he knew that was cowardly, and he wouldn't be able to live with himself. No, if his grandmother wanted him to decide, then he would decide.
Butters asked everyone he knew what they thought. Father Maxi told him that artificial life is no life. God has a plan for all His children, and if it was his grandmother's time to go, then he mustn't stand in the way of that. His mother cried, telling him of course he must keep her on life support, she could wake up at any moment and she hadn't had a chance to tell her goodbye yet. Kenny told him life and death was all the same, to not feel guilty and do what he needed to do. Kyle told him life was precious, and that everyone deserved to live their's to the end. Stan told him his grandfather wanted him to kill him once, too, but that he learned that everyone has to live their life, and pay for their sins in this life rather than the next. Cartman told him the most frustrating response, to follow his heart.
"Really," Butters said, looking at his boyfriend in disbelief. "That's all you have to say to me right now?"
Cartman shrugged. "What do you want me to say? I don't know what you want to do! Do you want to keep her alive? Do you want her dead? Do that and I'm behind you one hundred percent!"
Butters groaned and covered his face with his hand. He wanted to hide behind Cartman like he always did. He wanted Cartman to tell him to kill that fucking bitch so he could wash his hands in that and live guilt free. But he couldn't very well tell Cartman to tell him that, it would cancel out the effect.
Cartman watched Butters struggle and bit his lip. He knew very well what response Butters wanted from him, and as badly as he wanted to give him absolution, he also knew this was Butters' battle to fight on his own. He hated Butters' grandma more than anyone, possibly more than Butters did, he wanted her dead so he could dance on her grave himself, but Butters had to want that for himself too. He had to forgive and let live or resent and kill her. Butters had to decide his own morality, what he was okay and what he wasn't okay living with.
Butters shuddered, and still covering his face he began to cry. Cartman pulled him into his arms and held him close while Butters cried angry tears. Angry that his grandmother would do this to him. Angry that he might never know peace because of her. Angry that he was barely eighteen. He shouldn't have to make these decisions. He hated her. He wanted her dead. But he didn't want those dark feelings inside him. He didn't want her to win.
Cartman held him and shushed him and kissed his temple. Butters cried and screamed. He was angry and frustrated. He wanted to lash out, but instead he just cried and screamed as loudly as he could, knowing Cartman would hold him together like he always did. It wasn't until Butters couldn't breath anymore that he calmed down. He pulled slightly away and cleaned his face with the sleeve of his sweater. Cartman held him and when he was slightly more composed he kissed his forehead.
"Butters," he said, looking at him with fierce determination. "You're the best person I know, and you know why that is?" Butters shook his head. "Because you turn everything terrible into something good. Every fucking time. You turn the worst situation and spin it so it's something good, and that's what you have to do right now. You keep looking at things like it's black and white, do you pull the plug or don't you-"
"Well, yeah, because those are my only options," Butters said with a sniffle.
"Maybe, but you haven't put that special Butters touch on them yet. This isn't black and white, forgive or don't. There are other options. Other combinations."
"Other combinations?"
Cartman nodded. Butters was confused, why did he have to choose now to become a riddle master. But still, Butters nodded as well and leaned in to bury his face into Cartman's neck while Cartman kissed the top of his head and squeezed him tight. Cartman could see other options, so now Butters had to see them as well.
Butters searched his heart for that third option, and in the hospital room, looking at his grandmother, he found it. He took a deep breath and pulled up a chair next to the bed. He sighed and rubbed his palms on his thighs. He looked around the small room, finding little comfort in anything that was in there. Butters frowned, hospitals were where people faced deep tragedy, the least they could do is attempt to brighten up the rooms. The tv in the corner was off, and the lights were dim. There was no point in having all the lights on for an unconscious patient and Butters didn't feel the need to turn on the rest. So he sat in silence, hearing the beeping of the heart monitor and the gentle blowing of air into his grandmother's lungs. The doctor told him there was a chance she could hear him. He said that to comfort him, and in a way it was comforting. She would have to hear what he had to say that day just as she did when he was ten. He licked his lips and sat up. He didn't know where to start, so he just started.
"Hey grandma, it's Butters." He paused. He felt foolish, but this was part of the decision, so he continued. "You made me power of attorney, and my time to decide is almost up. I came to tell you that I did decide. It wasn't easy. I asked a lot of people what they thought, and it was half and half. Some told me to pull the plug while others told me to leave you connected. My tie breaker told me to do what I thought was right. Needless to say, that was less than helpful advice." He chuckled. "I guess it would have helped if I knew why you made me power of attorney. You hate me, why would you give me that much power over you? But I think I know why. It's a final test, or rather, torture. I think that's the better word, it's your last act of torture towards me. All my life you've just been pushing my buttons, and then I realized it's because you wanted me to be like you. To have that dark empty feeling inside, but when I didn't cave, you didn't stop pushing. You pushed harder and harder, but I wasn't gonna give you the pleasure, no sir. But now you have my hands tied. And sure, I can let the time elapse, but you know I could never live with myself if that happens. This is my chance to finally get some closure out of you. I guess this is sort of like a gift from you to me, if you think about it like that.
"I don't know why you are the way that you are, Grandma. I use to think people were just born mean, and in a way I still think that, but now I know that people get turned mean by people around them, or by life. I wish I knew what turned you mean. I wish I had known you before you were mean. I use to think you were turned mean after I was born, but then I started paying closer attention to my mom and realized you were mean to her too, but then I was born and you jumped to me. Now I gotta figure out if she knew, but I guess that's just something I have to deal with another day.
"I wish I knew you better, grandma. I wish I got to hear stories about your life, your childhood, your parents. We're family, and nothings gonna change that no matter what. But at the end of the day, none of this changes the fact that you are mean, and you've made my life miserable for no reason. I always tried to be nice to you, but you never let me. You always hurt me or insulted me. Even when you were living with Aunt Nellie you still called to make my life hell. But now that's over. You're in a coma and you're never going to wake up again."
Butters shifted in his seat and sat up straighter. "Since finding out you gave me power of attorney, and I had to choose between pulling the plug or not, I kept thinking my only option was to forgive you and keep you plugged in, or admit that you won in making me feel dark and empty inside and pull it. But I had a third option, one that doesn't involve you, but that puts me first. I'm choosing to pull the plug, not because I feel dark and empty, but because I love myself enough to end this. What you taught me more than anything, grandma, is that reconciliation isn't always possible, but that doesn't mean I have to hold onto hard feelings. I don't have to become mean because of it. I can acknowledge all the things you've done to me, know that they were bad, hell, I'm still mad at you about it, but I can love myself enough to stop it and move on. And in a way, this is the best thing for you too. You don't have to live with those dark feelings anymore. I'm sure they're unbearable. And you don't have to suffer anymore either, because even if I keep you plugged in, and you somehow recover, what's your life going to be like? You're going to hate it, I know you are. So really, you getting a chance to pass away peacefully in your sleep, it's a lot better than you deserve. Consider that my gift to you. At the end of you long, loathsome life, some peace."
Butters stood and put the chair he was sitting on back in its place. He turned back to his grandmother and put his hand over hers and held it. She was cold, like she had already passed. "So please grandma," he said. "Please do one decent thing in your life and pass away in peace."
He squeezed her hand and then walked out. The nurse was waiting outside the door, knowing Butters wanted one last moment alone with his grandma before she came in and flipped the switch to turn off the machines that were currently keeping her alive. No plugs were actually being pulled.
Butters hadn't told anyone of his decision. He certainly didn't tell his mother, because she would have wanted to be there when she passed. His father as well. His aunt Nellie was coming in the next day to say her final farewell, and surely Butters would have been forced to be there too. His grandmother would have died surrounded by loved ones, but that wasn't part of the plan. What Butters wanted was for her to die alone, like a dog on the street. As he walked down the hospital corridor he passed by a hand sanitizer dispenser and grabbed himself a few pumps, disgusted that he touched her. He reached the elevator and as it was closing to take him down to the first floor he could see the nurse step out of his grandmother's room. He smiled. Not even the nurse would be there to witness her die. To witness the last moments of her life and give it meaning. Give her absolution.
There was a third option, but not the one he told his grandmother in her room. The third option was to realize that she was beneath Butters in all ways imaginable. She wasn't even the dirt beneath his feet, nor the worms, for both those served a purpose in life. All she was was a tormentor, someone determined to cause Butters' pain, and he was fed up. For eighteen long years he had to deal with all her abuse, from physical to verbal to psychological. For eighteen long years he kept quiet and realized that she didn't matter, she was nothing and no one, and she couldn't force him to live his life like her. She couldn't force her wretched feelings onto him, not if he chose love and compassion towards himself. And for him to choose that, he had to accept that his grandmother's life was meaningless, and thus not worth standing around to see her breathe her last breath. Sure, his parents would be furious, he would be grounded into the next century. His sweet aunt, whom loved him so much, would be upset and disappointed in him for not waiting for her to come. He accepted these consequences, though. He accepted them and knew that deep down, his mother and aunt would be grateful for him for doing the thing neither dared to do.
Butters stepped out of the hospital and walked towards Cartman's truck. He was waiting for him in the parking lot. He was on his phone but put it away as soon as Butters got in.
"It's done?" Cartman asked. Butters nodded. "How are you feeling?"
Butters took a deep breath and then turned to Cartman. "I feel great," he said with a giggle.
Cartman scoffed and rolled his eyes. He gave Butters a quick peck on the lips and they headed towards Butters' house, both bracing for the storm they were about to walk into.