Thank you my reviewers,
Kenny's Lil Lover: Yes, Stan appears to be the most stable, but when things start crumbling for him I guess his sanity slowly fades away. Yeah, I hate Wendy, I didn't even want her in my fic... yet it was required. Thank you, I believe this is one of my best poems. I so thought of Stan when writing it, so I made the fic with it. Thank you for reviewing!
Spice of Life: Yes, it is sad... I'm surprised I wasn't hyseterical when writing it. Heh, well thank you for reviewing!
Keep Me From Dying; Stan's POV
Darkness consumed my being. During that time, all I thought about was how I could be thinking if I were dead. Being such a vague topic, it took a majority of my time to discover why. When I wasn't thinking about my death, I was basking in the comfort I recieved from the endless black oblivion. It was as if I were sleeping, yet conscious about every passing thought. It was my sanctuary. This was one of the only times I enjoyed being alone. Because here, there was nothing to hurt me and no one for me to hurt. It was kind of sad really since I was in a coma.
Eventually I figured that out, took me long enough though. When I realized it was no dream for I could not wake up exactly, more like I didn't want to, and that if I were dead I'd be either burning in a damned hellhole or basking in the light of heaven. Since I was trapped in the middle, I figured someone had saved me and taken me to the hospital where I was placed in a coma. I believed this was my mom's doing. Yet I felt no pain, so as a second solution... neither hell nor heaven existed and when you died you were stuck for eternity in a big, black oblivion. Just my luck.
Without the pain, aches, and loneliness I had once felt, it seemed that I was more like my old self before high school. This comforted me some, knowing that I still possessed the humor and sarcasm I had abandoned long ago. Well, not that long ago.
As I continued to lay in the darkness, a sharp pain ran through my body. I let out a hiss that escalated into a cry. My breathing became ragged and the darkness seemed to engulf me. It was no longer comforting, but constricting, squeezing whatever life I had left outta me. I could almost feel myself be returned to my body. I writhed in pain, craving the darkness that once embraced and sheltered me from my pain. Far off voices reached my ears causing my head to pound. I wanted them to go away, so I tried to shut them out. It didn't work. White-hot pain seared through my entire body, mainly my chest and arms. I wimpered, trying to escape it all, I cried some more. A blinding white light shone on me, I closed my eyes and regained darkness. Someone told me to stay awake, but I didn't listen. I let the sweet darkness engulf me again and wash away my pain.
The next time I was aware of myself came a little while later. I'm not sure when exactly, but the pain was a fresh memory. I shuddered at the thought of reliving it again. However, if I was to awaken, then the pain was something I'd have to endure. So, I waited.
Two more attempts were made to bring me back to complete consciousness. Each time bringing with it unbearable pain. I could never hold out long enough for the doctors to see if I was okay, if I would live.
On the fourth attempt, I remember crying and screaming like before, but somehow it was different. I cried for someone, I'm not sure who, but I wanted someone there with me. Suddenly, a hand grasped mine and held it tightly, but with great care also. I knew who they were, but at the time I just didn't care. I wanted comfort and this person provided it. I felt like an infant.
The bright lights shone again, ones I knew to be hospital lights by now. Although they still blinded me, I did what they asked and kept my eyes open. I remembered my eyes still tearing up and everyone was blurry. I had no idea were I was or who these people were. My cries returned, as did fear and it's company. I felt the hand try to calm me and soothe me to the gentleprobing of another, my mom I think...
Finally, someone said I could go back to sleep, so I did gratefully. I was in such a deep sleep, that I did not feel the hand slip out of mine.
Groaning, I opened my eyes and looked around. It was dark. Fear grabbed hold of me, my thoughts drifted to the darkness I had been imprisoned to. I clung to my bedsheets and tried to subside my rapid breathing. My movements drew the attention of a nurse. Soon the darkness was gone, but the blinding light returned.
"Stanley? Stanley, can you hear me son?" a man's voice asked, I groaned in reply, shielding my eyes with my hands.
He chuckled, "Alright then, Stanley, you think you can look at us?"
I lowered my hands and opened one eye. I glowered at him before closing it again and replying hoarsely, "No."
"Well, that's good! You can talk, very good. But, Stanley-"
"Don't call me Stanley." I growled, coughing slightly and still not opening my eyes, "Call me Stan, that's my name."
I could feel the man's smile and it sent a shiver down my spine, "Well, okay then Stan. But we really need you to open your eyes. You took some serious damage back there."
"No." I replied defiantly, keeping my blue eyes shut.
The man sighed and then spoke to one of the nurses. It sounded like: 'Get his mother in here.' Dammit, these guys weren't playing fair. They didn't see me asking for their mommies did they? No, thought not. I heard the door open and close and the sound of stiletto heels on a tile floor. Then the door opened again.
"Stanley! Oh my poor baby! Are you alright?" I heard my mom exclaim, fear and sadness and relief all evident in her voice.
I opened my eyes to look at her, allowing that other guy to look at my eyes. It took awhile for my vision to focus, but once it had, I looked over my mom. Her eyes were red and puffy like she had been crying. Her hair was frazzled and disheveled, her clothes untidy, no make-up on, so basically she looked miserable.
I tried to smile for her, "H-hi mom."
"Oh, baby, don't scare me like that! What were you thinking?" she asked, tears welling in up in her eyes.
I hated seeing my mom cry, but I hated that she brought up my attempted suicide even more. "I dunno."
I accepted the fact that I had attempted suicide, but was brought to the hospital and lived instead of my original plan to just die. I had thought about what I had done and what made me do it while alone in darkness, so it didn't shock me as it first did.
"Mrs. Marsh, please don't bring up that subject while your son's in Critical Condition. It may distress him." the man told my mom.
"Fag..." I muttered under my breath, but no one heard me.
She nodded, "Oh right, yes, I'm sorry. It's just... I don't know how to deal with it." She glanced at me and gave me a smile, "And I supposes his friends can't come in either."
"I'd rather that we refrain from outside contact for the time being. He still needs to regain his strength and composure. But I'm surprised, his recovery was quite quick." he nodded, as if my being okay was his victory.
I rolled my eyes, everything was in focus now. However, I couldn't get over that it was so bright and a freakishly clean shade of ivory. I tried to shift my position, but was dismayed to find that my wrists were strapped down and various tubes were carrying liquids into my body. Shuddering at the needles, I turned to face the man and my mom again. I'm guessing the guy's a doctor, but not like I care.
"How long have I been asleep?" I ask, my voice was pissing me off because it was so hoarse.
He pondered a moment, I frowned as he took his time debating my question. "You've been in a coma about five days, but since it's midnight now... I suppose around six."
Wow, shorter than I thought, it's not like I tell them this. Now I just want to go back to sleep. Weariness washed over me and my eyes slipped shut. All voices around me stopped and the darkness came back again, embracing me.
"We'll be moving him to the psychiatric wing once he's settled and sedated. His body made a quick recovery while in the coma and the two days he's been conscious. We'll let his friends and family see him before we lock him up."
Worry embeded itself in my heart. Sedated? Psychiatric Wing? Lock me up? I shuddered, my eyes squeezed shut as I feigned sleep. The doctors talking didn't know I was awake, or else they wouldn't be talking about my fate. Why am I being locked up?
Of course I knew the answer to the question, I had tried to kill myself. Simple as that, they were locking me up because I had tried to kill myself and they thought I'd be safer in solitary confinement. The bastards.
Two days had passed, but I slept through most of them. When I wasn't sleeping, they were running tests or asking me basic questions. So I'd been here a week, now I would spend an indefinate period of time in the crazy house. There I would remain locked up and be blessed with few visitors, mainly my mom and my designated therapist. I'd seen the movies, that's what would always happen. I'd be all alone in a little white room.
My blood ran cold. Alone? I'd be alone again... Crap. They can't put me there! If they do, it'll make things worse! I won't get better by being alone! They can't do this to me! My eyes snapped open and darted around the room. It was empty now. I gulped, I already was by myself. I wanted to leave this horrible place, but the straps on my wrist prevented me from doing so. I was trapped.
Suddenly the door opened, revealing another doctor. I stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights, quivering slightly. He gave me a smile, I gave him the finger. Of course, he hadn't seen it.
"Alright Stan," he cleared his throat and walked over to me, "Today's the day you get to leave Critical Condition! Isn't that great?"
"That's just swell," I muttered, looking away from him.
"Well, you've made excellent progress, so you get to see your little friends." he smiled, talking to me as if I were a little kid.
I didn't reply. I felt a cruel hatred enter me as I stared at his retreating form. I hope he gets stabbed with one of those sharp surgery knives. Shock quickly entered me and I shook that thought away, feeling fear and exhilaration over come my fragile being as the thought of knives came to my mind. The sick smile plastered on my face as I prepared to die flashed into my mind, causing me to double over.
"Only one at a time."
The doctor's voice brought me back to reality. I regained my composure, just in time to see my best friend walk in. He looked sickeningly pale and his green eyes were without a shine, but had dark rings around them. His curly red hair peeked out from under his green hat, but had a dull tone to it. My heart dropped, the sight of him looking this way was worse than my mom.
He gave me a forced smile, "Hey, dude."
The doctor leaves, while I'm left to face the heart-wrenching image of him. "K-kyle."
My voice was still friggin' hoarse, so raspy that you wouldn't recognize my voice. I watched his eyes grow wide, tears brimming them. He remembers when I called him.
"Stan...that... that was you? O-on the phone?" he manages to state, trying to control himself and blink away tears.
I stared him down, feeling a lump in my throat, "Yeah, it was me."
"Dude..." he choked out, clenching his fists as if it would stop his shaking, "I-I'm so sorry. I didn't know... I... I thought it was a prank call, or a wrong number. Why'd you call? When? Please tell me."
I can't see him like this, so I don't face him. "I called because I was going to die... and I couldn't stop it."
I don't sound like myself anymore. It might be because I know I'm going to be alone once more and hear myself talk like this, maybe because he brought up my near-death expirience. I don't know, but I'm scaring him. I'm hurting him. I don't want to hurt anyone.
"I'm sorry," I heard him speak softly, "I'm sorry I told you to go away. I'm sorry I hung up on you. I-I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you! But, I am now, and Kenny too. You don't have to be alone."
But it's too late... I already am alone... is what I should have said, since it was true. Instead I give him a sad, but thankful smile. I smile because I know he wants to see it. "Thank you, Kyle." I say that because he wants to hear it. But I'm lying. Deep within in me though, I just want to cling to him and cry. I want him to keep me from dying. But he can't, because eventually he'll leave me in that dark place... all alone.
