Stan's eyes are cold, glittering with icy contempt as he stares, devoid of all feeling, at the boy shuddering at his feet. Kyle can't comprehend it, can't understand, doesn't know what it means. It's not true, right? It's a joke, right?
No.
The words echo in his ears, the sting of the blow still perched on his cheekbone.
"Kyle," he says, murmuring, angry, beyond love and care and even hate, just cold, horrifying, deathly solemnity. "It's not going to work. We aren't going to work. I'm here to say goodbye."
Kyle stops, stilled in his movement, capability stolen like breath from a dying man. "What?"
"I'm not going to lie to you anymore. I'm not gay, I don't love you, and I never want to see you again."
He says it with such feeling, yet none at all. His eyes are dead, but god, they're dead serious. Stan really never wants to see Kyle again. This doesn't hit Kyle yet. He still thinks it's a dream, a nightmare, a sick, sick joke.
"Stan," he starts, approaching with a slight hysterical grin bordering on the edges of his lips, "you don't really mean-"
He's cut short with the terrifying sting of fingers as they smack against his cheek, and Kyle stumbles back those few steps he's just taken, hand flying to the wound, tears glistening in his eyes. Stan means it. He does. He hates Kyle, just like he always feared. He lead him on, let him believe that he could be happy. It was all a lie.
He crumples in a heap at Stan's feet, sobbing, desperately wishing for the blissful awakening from this terrible nightmare. For the realization: it's all just a lie. It's all a lie. It's not real, his mind is lying, he's lying to himself, he's lying to himself, he's-
"Get up," Stan spits at him, voice frozen and harsh, ears unhearing to Kyle's devastation.
"No, god, Stan, y-you..." He can't get anything straight. It's all muddled, gone from coherent thought, indiscernible. Oh, he must be watching a movie, it's late at night, he's about to fall asleep. His tired mind incorporated real life into the movie and turned it into a nightmare. It's alright. Everything's going to be al-
"Get off of me and stay away," he threatens, almost sounding bored. Kyle sobs and reaches shakily out, hand beyond steadying to control, and Stan's face twists in disgust (though his eyes are still lifeless) as he violently kicks him away. Kyle's fingers clench and he draws back, sobbing even harder now. Stan's lip is curled in that very same disgust and he turns away from Kyle, ready to leave.
"Goodbye, Kyle," he calls down to him, almost in a sneer, except for the emotionless carelessness in his whole stature, and Kyle screams.
"No, Stan, don't leave me, please!"
He's gone.
Kyle curls into a ball, moaning and hiccuping and sobbing hysterically, as if his chest cavity has been ripped open and put on display. The kitchen tile flooring is unforgiving as he shifts and slams his forehead down against it, wishing for nothing more than to just wake up, anything. His head hits the tile for a second time, hard, and when he raises it up again he sees blood.
Three is the magic number.
This time swirls and sketchy blurs burst into his vision, like maggoty worms infiltrating his world, squeezing in, finding all the crevices of his mind. It all blanks, and then he's got something wonderful; his mother's kitchen knife. Without a second thought he plunges it cleanly through his chest, momentarily wishing he'd taken the time to etch Stan's name into its blade before he's distracted by the beautiful sight of crimson red splattering across the white of the floor, soaked in water, perhaps his own tears, readily taking in the new masterpiece of dark devastation. A new start, a new life, a new world. A new beginning. And then he's falling, falling, falling, cut.
It's over, clear the scene.
-
Dude, I hate this. Everything happens too fast and ghghksjdhskdbleh
Anyway, the whole purpose for writing this was for April Fool's day because I hadn't done anything and thought, "Well, I AM the kind of loser who would do stuff on the internet instead of real life, durr hurr," so that's what I did lol fail. It was at the beginning of chapter four -random fact that no one even cares about lol shot dead-
Okay, anyway, just submitting this because I don't want it to go to waste, la la la, whistle whistle, review if for some obscure reason you liked it, review if for some rightful reason you hated it, loolooloo. Happy April Second, guys. Lol
Oh, and I don't think it's necessary to rate stories M for character death. Do you think I should?