My computer keeps getting confiscated, which is putting such a delay on my stories. I'll try to get out the chapters sooner so that I won't keep you guys waiting too long.
We pulled into the hospital's parking lot. I wasn't looking forward to going in there and seeing him in this state, and I think that I could say the same for everyone else who was on there way there. I couldn't look at Stan. I wished I could have just stayed in the waiting room and been told that everything was going to be alright.
But unfortunately, my mom is dragging me down the hallway, following a doctor and two nurses by his side. I'm growing more nervous with every step I take, knowing that I'm only seconds away from his room. I can't help but feel suicidal myself for what Stan has done.
"Oh god, I hope he's alright," Kenny says walking at the same speed by my side. I stared straight forward, unable to even speak, "Dude Kyle, are you okay?" With my mouth hanging open slightly, I give a quick nod and continue on walking. "Everything's gonna be okay," he reassures me, swinging an arm around my shoulder. His comfort didn't help at all.
I deeply sigh as we approach the room.
Stan's two parents stood crying over his lifeless body. I myself began to release tears. They dropped down onto the tiled floor without a sound. Kenny stared with no expression on his face and didn't make any movement, except for hands that began to tremble violently.
Fear, worry, regret, guilt and so many other mixed emotions took control of my body. In summary, it was the worst feeling I'd ever experienced in my lifetime. It was so strange how someone could cause you the best and worst feelings.
Stan gave me the feeling of love like no one else ever had. And what I had been going through right now had been the worst.
The boy was hooked up to a bunch of machines that had helped him breathe. Another doctor came in and wrapped his leg in a dark green bandage. He had bruises on his head and arms, covering him like the spots of a giraffe. His removed shirt was replaced with a heating pad that kept his body temperature at an average heat.
To think that only a few hours ago, he looked perfectly healthy, perfectly normal, no scars, and now he's unconscious in a hospital room. Just this morning at the bus stop, I held him in my own arms and kissed him. His happiness was my responsibility, and so was his state now.
"MOM!" The door swung open and in came an unwilling and angry Eric Cartman to break the silence. "I don't want to be here!" He shouts, ruining the peace and quiet of the moment.
"Poopsykins, Stanley is your friend. You're here to pay your respects," she closed the door behind her, trying to keep her voice calm.
Cartman raised an eyebrow, "Pay my what?!" He stupidly questioned. Liane turned Cartman around so that he was facing the hospital bed. The strength in his body all seemed to leave as he was soon caught under the spell of Stan.
With a jaw dropped, he didn't dare to blink once or lose any concentration on him.
"W-what did he do?" I ask, managing to spit out those few words shakily.
Stan's mom darted her eyes up to me and parted her lips, "He jumped out the window…" she replied in between sobs.
I couldn't help my self as I walked over to him and brushed his bangs from his forehead. I tried to smile but utterly failed. With the hair that was once covering his face pushed up, I leaned down and kissed above his eyes.
"I'm so sorry Stan. I never meant for anything to go this far. I didn't want this to happen, despite what you might think, I love you and I know you felt the same," I gently back up and hold my own two hands together.
"Is he going to be okay?" The doctor, who was scanning his eyes on the clipboard, looks up at me and gives me a smile that he uses to try and give me some sense of hope. I only see pity on his face.
"It's hard to say. He could recover with some minor injuries, or wake up and have temporary amnesia. Right now, he's at a point where we don't ever know if he'll make it out or not."
Everyone in the room stayed silent. With extra chairs brought into the room, everyone had a seat. No one left the room that night, even thought all we had were chairs to sleep on.
The time was 3am. Stan was still dormant and I was the only one, well along with Stan's mother, who was awake. I didn't want to talk to her, with fear that she might have blamed this on me. I deserved all the blame though, it was my fault.
A few thoughts trailed my mind, following the reoccurring question that popped into my head, wondering if Stan had left some kind of note along with his attempt for death.
With her eyes dead locked on her son, I spoke to her.
"Did… did Stan perhaps leave a note, or something like that?" I blink at her and she nods quickly, pulling something from her pocket, and handing it over to me.
"I never got the chance to read it, and I'm not quite sure I want to hear right now what he had to say. But you can go ahead…" I take it from her hand and nod back as a response.
It didn't seem to me that she wanted to see what Stan had to say, so I decided to read the note inside my head.
'Kyle. I think you were crazy to believe that I didn't love you. You must have not been aware of the fact that I am not complete without you. I wouldn't go on as long as you didn't trust in me. Even those few hours without you made me feel so empty. I never realized how life would feel without you around. I loved you, and always did. Mom and dad, I can say the same. Kenny, you were a great friend too and always looked out for everyone. Cartman, I hope you die in hell and stop laughing if you happen to be reading this.'
I knew that I couldn't have shone Cartman, because that would have most likely caused a jolt of laughter from him in some sort of sick way. How he would manage to laugh, I didn't even know, but just knew he would.
But that wasn't what I wanted to focus on.
The feelings overwhelming me took over the rest of my body once again. Tears poured down my face as I tried to choke them back, biting down on my bottom lip hard. I didn't realize that I even had the power to make someone suicidal. Even Stan seemed stronger than that. I never judged him by the way he looked, and never would have actually thought of him as being emo.
He probably wasn't feeling that way until today either.
So, I sat there, and cried my self to sleep on the chair next to his bed.
I know that there wasn't much going on in this chapter, unlike I planned.
This chapter was supposed to reveal if Stan makes it out or not or at least give a hint, but I cut it off short to see what would happen.
Yeah, the next one is gonna be longer.
I'll update when I have over 65 reviews, if I don't make it to that goal with in a week or two, I'll update anyway.
Sorry again for the long wait.