Note: First off, I don't think the title of this chapter makes much sense, but it was the only thing I could think of (I was watching too much Gundam Seed Destiny, which is probably where it came from). Also, I forgot to put in that Clyde was doing a bit of drunk driving (it'll be obvious what this is about later in the chapter).
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-Chapter 7-
Destiny's Path
I woke up that morning clearly wondering what the hell that dream had been about. Of course, I knew it hadn't been real, because Stan was in the hospital, and I'd end up being one of the first people to know if he woke up. The main reason behind this was because I was with every day, from the minute I got there after school to when visiting hours were over. So I knew it wasn't real. I do realize what it meant though. If Stan died, I knew I wouldn't be able to live. Maybe as a mindless person, sure, but that's about it. I was already starting to act that way, even though Stan was still alive and only unconscious right now.
--
"Ky, you seem angry. Are you okay?"
I just looked at Stan, who had a concerned look on his face. I was always worrying about him, but it always seemed like he didn't care about this. I often wondered if he did things like this just to bother me.
"Dude, seriously, are you okay? You look upset."
I just stood there, unable to think of anything to say to him.
"You know, if you're pissed at me you could just tell me."
I still didn't say anything. I wasn't angry at him at all, but that was what he decided to think.
"Kyle, why aren't you saying anything?"
I sighed before telling him what I actually thought. I just hoped he wouldn't take it the wrong way. But then again, it always seemed like anything I said to him wasn't important, so I sometimes wondered why I bothered to tell Stan anything in general.
"Look Stan, I'm not angry at you, but I have a feeling that eventually something bad will happen to you if you keep doing this."
Stan just laughed at that one. He must have noticed the look I was giving him though. "Ky, seriously," he said, putting his arm around my shoulder, "you worry too much. I'll be fine, nothing 'bad' will happen to me, okay?"
I looked at him for a few seconds before saying, "Okay, fine. But if something does happen to you, you can't say I didn't warn you."
He laughed again and said, "Okay then, in case something horrific does happen to me, I'll make some sort of promise with you. Does that work?"
"Like what?" I asked.
"I'm not exactly sure, why don't you think of something?' Stan replied. I often wondered why I never asked the guy out, but if Stan was willing to make some sort of promise with me, I figured I should ask him now.
"How about a date?" I asked, hoping that Stan would agree on it.
"You mean the two of us going on a date together? You're not being serious, are you?" This had been the answer I didn't want, but I nodded so he'd understand.
Stan just stood there, and to me it looked like he was actually thinking over something I actually said. Eventually, he said, "Fine, I guess that could work."
"So you honestly don't care about me asking that of you?"
Stan laughed again and I knew that if he laughed at me one more time I would probably hit him. He smiled at me and said, "Seriously, it's nothing big. Besides, I'm surprised you never asked before."
I glared at him then. "What do you mean by that, Stan?!"
He started laughing again, and this time I ended up punching him a little too hard in the chest. He ended up coughing a little too much (he had asthma, after all), and I walked him over to the couch. When he finally stopped, he sounded pissed.
"What the hell was that for?!"
"I wasn't meaning to hit you that hard; I was just getting annoyed with you laughing at everything I said. It makes it seem like you don't bother to pay any attention to what I'm saying!"
Stan just looked at me and started to speak, but I left his house before I could hear him. When I think about it now though, I feel guilty for what happened that night, even if I wasn't involved.
That night, Stan had gone somewhere with Clyde (the only one of the four that could actually drive), Craig and Tweek, and I wasn't prepared at all for what was going to happen to any of them. Especially Stan.
The first thing I heard was the actual crash itself. When I looked outside, both a truck as well as Clyde's car were out there, and I knew the two had collided with each other. After I called for an ambulance, I went to check what happened. The truck driver was a little beat up, but that was nothing compared to what had happened to everyone else there. Both Clyde and Tweek were hidden, due to the fact that they had taken the worst hit. Craig, on the other hand, sounded like he was actually conscious, but at the same time he sounded dazed. Stan, who seemed to have been the least injured, was not even awake. I did notice that the window his head was leaning on (the right side of the car wasn't really hit) was covered in blood. More importantly, it was Stan's blood on that window.
I knew something might actually happen to him, but I did not expect this at all. I didn't even know if Stan was still alive at that moment. If he was though, I'd be happy. But if he wasn't... well, let's just say it wouldn't be a pretty site for anyone.
Finally, when help had arrived, they were checking to see who was dead and who wasn't. Both Craig and the truck driver were sent to the hospital, and both Clyde and Tweek were dead. No one had seen Stan until I pointed him out.
"Is this kid still alive?" one of the doctors asked another.
The other person there looked at him, and said, "No, this kid's dead too-- no, wait, he's still breathing!"
That was when Stan was finally brought to the hospital. I could see that Stan was actually n worse condition than Craig, but then again there was too much blood on him to even tell if that was the case.
The day after, I went to the hospital. I was told by Cartman that Craig had been declared dead six hours after he was brought in. When I had asked him about Stan though, he had said nothing.
"Come on fat ass, what's wrong with him?"
Cartman was standing there for a few minutes, looking around the hallway. I asked him again, and this time he actually gave me an answer.
"Well, you see Kyle, he's a little, how should I say? Unable to speak."
I just looked at him. "I know he's not dead, so what is it?"
"Well, it's one of the closest things to death."
"His brain doesn't work anymore so he's stuck in here for good?"
"No, no," Cartman said, "you're thinking too horrible there. What if I was to add in that he's in an unconscious state?'
I tried to think of what Cartman was referring to, but the only word that came to mind was "coma," and I was hoping that that wasn't the case.
"You're not trying to tell me that he's in a coma, are you?" I asked.
"You finally got it!" Cartman said as if I had just won something, which I felt far from. "He can't respond to anything right now, so there's not much of a point in going to see him."
I ignored Cartman and ran to the room where Stan was supposed to be. When I walked in, I ended up seeing that he had quite a few stitches, mostly on his head and arms. By the looks of it, a lot of them would end up leaving some scars on him, and I ended up feeling more horrible from seeing Stan like this. I started wondering why I didn't try to convince him to actually stay home that night. At least if he did he wouldn't be here, but instead he'd actually be perfectly awake. He wouldn't be laying in a hospital bed, possibly stuck in this state for the rest of his life. Just seeing Stan like this caused me to start crying.
Of course, two weeks later, Stan's parents ended up killing themselves, possibly because they thought that he'd die as well. Everyone in town, including my parents, were telling the doctors at the hospital to actually kill Stan (as in cut off everything that was keeping him alive and whatnot), but Kenny, Cartman, Shelley as well as myself ended up trying to stop them. Shelley happened to have a note that her parents had written, saying that they wanted everyone to not do something crazy like this. Of course, if it hadn't of been for this, Stan wouldn't still be the way he was now.
--
Today, like everyday since that incident, I was going to go to the hospital to visit Stan, even if I knew he wasn't able to speak. He was able to hear people from time to time though, because he was actually capable of moving (well, at least turning his head and partially moving his arms). I ended up thinking though that he still might not awake anytime soon, and I was starting to think that I had actually lost him for good. That would explain that dream too.
After Stan had been in a coma for a month, I started having dreams that ended up becoming worse the longer he was unconscious for. Eventually it became so bad that I'd end up having dreams that I'd lost him for good, which didn't brighten my mood at all. It made me feel worse about this whole thing. I was starting to act like a soul-less person at school, and I eventually shut everything out. The day that I'd become normal again was the day that Stan was actually able to speak again. When he'd be able to finally act like himself again. Or, as best as he could, seeing as Shelley, his older sister, was his only living relative left in the town.
I didn't even pay attention to anything that had happened at al that day, and I was still like this when I was actually sitting beside Stan. I had always told him to wake up soon every time I left the hospital at night, but I knew he hadn't heard me.
It was nine when I decided I would leave. I just looked at Stan, then left the room. I knew he wasn't going to wake up; he was going to be stuck here until he died.
I was wondering why a nurse had been trying to catch up to me. She looked like she had just checked up on Stan, so I was a bit confused.
"Excuse me, you wouldn't happen to be Kyle, would you?" she asked me. I nodded, and she pulled me back to where Stan was. I didn't see the point of it then, but once I got to the room I knew why.
Stan was sitting there, finally back again.
