"Kyle Broflovski! Answer my question!" All eyes in the room turned to the red-head, who had his head in his hands. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, and he was paler than usual. He hadn't seemed to hear Mr. Garrison, who stood in front of the boy, peering down into his face.
"Kyle? Are you alright?" The eight-year-old suddenly seemed to come out of his trance-like state, and looked up at his teacher, confused.
"Huh? Oh, sorry Mr. Garrison. What did you say?" The teacher sighed.
"Try to concentrate Kyle. Okay class, open your textbooks to page 182."
Kyle wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers, swallowing. He felt weak, shaky and nauseous, and he wrapped his arms around his aching stomach as he went to his next class.
"Dude, y'okay?" Stan approached his friend, concern lacing his tone. Kyle stared at him blankly for a moment.
"Kyle?" Stan put out his arms just in time to catch his best friend. He laid him down on the floor, looking down in his face. "Kyle! Are you okay?"
He mumbled something barely coherent, and Stan leaned forward to hear him.
"Blood sugar... I need to test my blood sugar Stan" he gasped.
"Oh man, your diabetes!" a crowd was starting to form around them, whispers were thrown around the circle. "Where is it Kyle? Where is it?" Kyle reached out an arm. He put his hand on his backpack but didn't have the strength to pull it towards him. Stan reached out and opened it, desperately rifling through the contents. He finally pulled out what he needed.
"How do you do it Kyle?" he shook his friend, trying to keep him conscious.
"Finger... Prick... Blood... Number..." his eyes were closing.
"No! Dude, stay with me! What's happening? Tell me what's happening!" he turned to Kenny. "Go get the nurse! Hurry!" As the little orange-hooded boy ran off, Stan gripped his friend's hand, rubbing it between his. Kyle's eyes snapped open suddenly. "Call... 911..." he gasped, before his back arched, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he started convulsing, his hands clenched into fists and his breathing labouring.
"Kyle!" there were several gasps from the crowd, none of them having any idea of what they were supposed to do.
"Oh my God!" came a voice down the corridor. The school nurse leant over the fitting boy, forcing him over on to his side. She yelled at one kid to go to reception and call 911, and told the others to go to class. Only Stan remained behind, helping the nurse to hold Kyle on his side.
"What's happening?" he asked in a panic. "Is he going to die?"
Not great, but never mind.
I'd appreciate any reviews. Ta for reading!