They took everything from me. My happiness, my comfort, my peace. It was ripped from my grasp, and thrown down the drain like it didn't matter. But it wasn't their fault. They were supposed to bring me back, against whatever will I had. It was their job to save me from an eternal world of bliss, and put me back in my place here, where I had nothing. My family hates me, and my friends all fear me. I'm beginning to fear myself, for the reasons anyone would, having been through what I had. The doctors don't even seem to have any compassion towards me, returned from death, only to be hated for it. It's not like what I expected to happen. Everybody wishes I had just stayed in the mist, gradually brought to nothing but a faint memory. Slowly, I'm sinking into myself, rotting away in the hospital bed, wishing they had just let me stay that. Just a memory.
This wasn't what I had expected to happen. I thought everything would flow smooth, and I could just get my bittersweet revenge without any price. Revenge, that had turned it's back to me, and spat on my deed. I let myself take the blame, for it was mine to take, and there was nothing to hide. But there was. I hid it until the point came for me to stare death in the face, and admit my pity. I let myself take the heat, and allowed it to take me wherever fate had decided I was needed. Fate was my guide, until it decided to screw me over. My light, my hope for comfort, had abandoned me, leaving me once again at the starting point. This was just me, paying for what I had done. I accept it, but wish the debt would be paid off sooner. I had been allowed a gateway in time, sealing off my life and bringing me to what I craved- to end my pain. The remedy I was offered, it somehow backfired, and brought me back to what disgusted me.
I told myself I didn't want to come back to life. Somewhere along death's timeline, I had actually convinced myself I wanted to stay away from the troubles that came with having mortality. But I got lost in my own troubles, and had came to realization that I needed to live. I needed to be there for Eric. And, somehow, the creases straitened themselves out, and I got my unclear desire. That was all part of fates fucked up plan, I guess. To screw me over, and then make it seem as if were meant to be. Even though I was lost, not having any way out anymore, fate kept me grounded. It kept me whole, waiting for it's next move in the game of reality.
And here I lay, not really sure why, in the dry hospital bed that I hated so. Consciousness had caught up to me, and eventually left me so drained, all I could do was close my eyes, and wait for sleep. Although I was aware of the figures in the room, touching me in places I couldn't seem to recognize, I just lay there. They kept me alive, re-attaching the dozens of wires into my pale skin. The mask already covering my mouth smelt like plastic and stale saline. I was practically naked, my thin clothing being removed to make sure everything vital was fine. My chest, two rectangle cherry marks just below my collarbone, was still raw from the electricity sent into my corpse forcing my heart to beat once again. I hated the feeling of being exposed, all my cuts and stitches open to see. But right now, I was to physically exhausted to care.
Their gloved fingers traveled across my skin, gently poking each spot they could manage. They prodded anxiously trying to find an imperfection for them to correct, but when they eventually found nothing, all hands slid from my body. "He's got some minor bruising in the chest region, but other than that he seems to be okay." I mentally flipped off whoever was speaking, because in all truth, I was far from okay. A blanket was pulled just over my stomach, my cast snagging the fabric. Just as the doctors surrounded me began to depart, the double door's swung open, my father flying in. He burst into tears when he saw me, unmoving on the cot. I wanted to tell him I was okay, but my mouth wouldn't move, and my eyes could only open so much before the lights burnt them shut. He ran over to my bed, only managing to glide his hand across my cold cheek before doctors pulled him away by his arms.
"No! Let me see him! Let me see my son!" He bawled, clawing at the prison that brought his outside the room. I could hear him crying in the hall, but that doctors didn't manage to get him further that past the door before I caught a glance of him falling to his knees in sobs before the doors swung shut. The small windows on the white walls gave a slight view of the hallway, now located further down the ICU. I watched through the slivers as some nurses came to escort him out. When I was sure he was okay, standing on his own two feet, I closed my eyes. Outside my room sounded like hell, voices panicked. One voice stood out more than any though, shaky and on the verge of tears. I peeled back one lid to see the raven haired boy in tears, standing next to my heavily guarded father. He looked into the window, into my room, where I lay, wanting more than ever to tell him I was okay. I was fine, just tired. One glance at my deathly figure sent him into fits of hysteria, pounding on the glass with his red gloves, and eventually sliding to the floor. My father had been dragged off to who knows where, and the only person left was Stan, who thought I was dead.
They hadn't told them. Told them that I was fine, just not quite conscious of my surroundings. They didn't even bother to assure them that I was in fact, quite alive. Instead, no one considered comforting the sobbing parent, and the fourteen year old boy pressed to the face of the glass, staring at the person who they thought was dead.
I saw the nurse next to Stan lean over and whisper something, and motion towards the door. It took him time to get up, and follow her to where the door pushed open, and she casually waltzed in. She brought a small plastic chair up to my side, and nodded towards the seat. Stan practically ran to my side, sending his nails into my arm. I winched at the sudden pressure, but sunk back and enjoyed the fact that I could even feel anything. Once again, he slid to the floor with my arm still encased tightly in his hands. Seeing that seating was already found on the floor, the chair was stacked back against the others, and the nurse snuck from the room.
We were left alone in the dark, as I was forced to listen to his miserable sobs. If my eyes had been open, I'm sure noticeable streams of tears were flooding down his face. I felt so useless, not able to comfort him. I couldn't even move, my own breaths tiring me out. Slowly his sobs became more quiet, and I started to become concerned from the lack of the familiar tone that made put me at ease. I was startled by the pair of lips of my forehead, softly pressing against a long line of stitches. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm…so…sorry." He whispered, pulling my shoulders into a light embrace. His touch was so gentle, I almost didn't realize when I left his arms. Stan began to trace the scars on my hand, before taking it in his own. Giving it a tight squeeze, his swallowed an oncoming sob, and laid his head on the pillow next to mine. I gathered every strength in my weak body to give some sign that I was here with him. My breathing was so faint, it was hardly noticeable, so I rubbed one of my fingers against his wrist, setting the hairs on his arm stand up. He tugged on my arm, before pulling from the pillow. "Kyle…" He sounded confused, and gave my hand another squeeze. I returned the gesture, but much weaker, making him start to cry. "Kyle? Kyle…thank god." Stan wrapped his arms around me once again, burying his face against my shoulder. I imagined a smile, and leant my head on his, nuzzling his hair.
The door squeaked open, and I heard frantic footsteps patter against the tile, pushing Stan out of the way. His warmth was replaced with the smell of soap, and two hands cupped my face. I brought my eyes open to stare into my father's, full of tears. "Dad," I squeaked, my voice cracked and faint. A huge smile lit up his face, as Stan came to my other side, grabbing my hand, and intertwining our fingers. He never stopped crying, and soon small tears began to grow on my own lashes.
They never left my side. Not once did they leave the hospital, only my father once to return with Ike, who was more than happy to see me. He sat on my bed with me, his fingers running up and down the multiple wires attached to the big machines. "What are these things for, Kyle?" Ike asked, tapping on the case covering my finger. I frowned at the question, and my dad started to explain, when I caught up.
"These wires are making sure I'm okay," I half lied, making sure I didn't scare him. He tapped a small finger to his chin, before pushing his nose against mine.
"Why wouldn't you be okay? What's wrong?" My dad refuses to let me answer, and came and sat at the foot of the bed, petting Ike's hair.
"He just need's them to feel better, that's all." Dad assured. I nodded, but quickly Ike lost interest and turned to something else far less boring, jumping from the bed. Dad's eyes followed Ike run towards the T.V. remote, and flick though the channels. He brought his gaze back to me, and weakly smiled. "Are you feeling better?"
"Yeah, I-I feel fine, I'm just a little shaken I guess." I stuttered, wiping away a fiery curl from my vision. He nodded slowly, pouting his lips. "Dad, is everything alright?" He shakes his grogginess away, and nods.
"Yes, everything's fine Kyle." He grunts, moving from the bed. I can tell he's lying by the tone of worry tainted in his voice. I let it slide, and turn my attention to the now single door open, and smile as Stan walks in with a turkey sandwich in his hands. My smile quickly drops as he comes to the bed, a look of terror stripped across his face. "Stan?" He furrows his brow, and parts his lips to speak, when the door re-opens. Stan turns pale, and drops his head.
"They're here to talk to you, Ky." He states, before turning to Ike and taking his hand. "Let's go down to the food court, okay?" Ike shakes his head, causing Stan to start tapping his foot. "They have T.V. and ice cream?" He suggests, and with that, Ike pushes past the two policemen in the doorway. Stan never looks up, and he races after him. Dad sighs heavily, patting my leg.
"I'll be in the hall if you need anything Kyle." He says blankly, before following the other boys out the door.
I'm left staring at two police twice the size of my own father, guns at their side, badges glistening in the faint lighting. I gulp, as an older man makes his way to my bedside, holding out a hand. Taking it nervously, he gives it a subtle shake, and introduces himself. "My name is Officer Gables, and this is Officer Harrison." He states, motioning to the woman by the door. I nod, and wait for further instruction. "We've come to discuss some of the legal factors, and what you could be facing." I sit motionless, not knowing what to do.
"Legal factors?" I question, my voice beginning to crack.
"As in all the charges held against you, and what you could be prosecuted for." The woman pipes in, making her way to stand unevenly next to her partner. "For right now, we just want to bring these things to your attention."
"Bring what to my attention?" I ask, feeling faint. "Wait…for now?"
"Yes, for the time being, we mainly wanted to discuss the charges you might face." She pulls a pink packet from her pocket, and begins to unfold it. "First off, let's just get some things strait. Hear your point of view. Some of these things can't be implied if your case changes." She coos, clearing her throat. "We are to understand you brought a Mr. Eric Cartman into a coma, breaking six ribs, fracturing his skull, and breaking one arm and…both legs." The woman stopped, and held her breath. "And he is currently in critical condition in ICU." She shakes her head, quickly handing the packet off the older man. "I…I'm going to go get a drink." She stutters, before exiting the room. He scratches his head, covered in dark gray hair, searching for the spot left on.
"You brought this man into a coma, is that false?" He asks, flipping through the pages. I feel tears swell around my eyes.
"I…I didn't know it was that bad." I whimper.
"I'll take that as a yes. And you did conduct said damage to your knowledge?" I glare at him, tears making their presence visible.
"I t-think so. I…yes. Yes sir, I did." I sigh, tearing our gaze apart.
"Alright. When and if Mr. Cartman wakes from his coma, multiple charges can be pressed against you from his family, and him himself. Assault charges will be automatically brought upon you, but it is his and his families choice to press any further charges." The policeman states robotically. "But," He continues. "Until the time when he is awake, you will be under police surveillance, and shall not be permitted to leave unaccompanied without permission." I nod sadly, and look back up at him.
"What happens if he doesn't wake up?" He isn't surprised by my question, and calmly begins to organize his few papers. "What if…what if he dies." I shudder on the last word, and close my eyes to try to drain the feeling of guilt.
"That's what we mainly wanted to bring to your attention," He sets down the stack of useless paperwork, and glides a chair across the floor so he is seated promptly in front of me. "If Mr. Cartman does not revive from his coma, you will be facing a prison sentence, and most probably murder charges. If you are lucky enough to be sent to the state penitentiary, you would be against a minimum of ten years."
If he dies, by none other than my hands, I'll be classified as a murder. I'll be forever responsible for spilling his blood, and taking his life. It he dies, there's no doubt I'll go to prison. Surprisingly, that's not what concerns me. It's the fact that I'll lose him, and I cant get him back. I always took his friendship for granted, and always considered us to be no less than close enemies. I would never openly agree that I was his friend, but I always liked to assume I was, just knowing there was someone to have my back. He always had my back, but I never had his. There was never a time when he would so much as harm a fly, even though he threatened he would. I had no reason to hurt him, but I did anyway. I did worse than hurt him, and now I might lose him.
"Mr. Broflowski, that'll be all. There will be someone to get the full story later this week. Thank you for your time, and I hope this all works out for you." He said courteously, before making his way to find his partner.
As I had earlier, I might have wanted to die. I might have wanted to hide away in my fantasy that cost me my own life just to seek a comfort from my pain. But right now, I didn't. I just wanted one thing more than anything, the only thing that could bring me the slightest bit of comfort. I wanted to see Eric's muddy eyes peel open, to awaken to the world that is now. The only thing I asked for, was for him to be alright. And that's all I wanted.
Some people call it destiny, and some might call it fate. Whatever it is, it brought me to where I am now. It may not be the best place ever, and quite frankly, it's not. Where I stand in life isn't what I desired, its what I dread. You may think you crave something, but it turns out not working in your favor, and it ends up shitting in your face. I've died, and been back. That doesn't make me anything more in the eyes of others, but it has given me something that can't fade, or even disappear. It's called hope. The one thing that does, no matter what theory, give you a burning passion that is your comfort. It keeps you going, when everything and everyone seems to go against you. I have hope. Not that things will go back to the way they were, or that everything will be fine, because that's next to impossible. I have hope, that one day, Eric will wake up. It may be weeks, months, even years before I can cry tears of joy, or it might just be never. But I'll wait for him. I'll wait for my fate.
A/N~ Oh my god, that last part made me cry so hard. I'm sorry for making this chapter so depressing, but the next couple of chapters should be a little lighter. I just want to thank all the people who are reading, you are the reason I write! I'd really appreciate reviews, the next chapter should be up by Monday! ~M