O Green World

How long's it been now? 3 hours? 4 hours? 5 hours even? This passing of time is really starting to worry me – not just because that's the amount of time I've spent sitting in this smooth yet cold and uncomfortable metal chair, but it's also the amount of time I've spent not being able to look at Stan and watch as he hopefully gets better. My memory's a bit hazy because I'm getting really sleepy and tired at the moment, but if it serves me well, as soon as the helicopter touched down on a stretched out runway that had been built on one of the higher levels of the building, we were greeted almost immediately with a large rescue team who helped us get Stan and the bed indoors and into the heart of the hospital. I remember it well – running down that corridor with the 3 or maybe 4 other guys who helped me move the bed down towards the operating theater.

Jesus Christ, it hits me – Stan needs an operation...what the hell happened to him?! Injured...or shot?! FUCK...this is really starting to scare me. I never like hospitals...all this white and silver everywhere around me is trying to make it seem like everything's good and gunna be alright – when there's a chance that it won't me. It's like it's...intimdating me...and everyone else here waiting beside me for news on their other relatives and close friends that they too are gunna be alright.

Oh God, I AM tired now – that annoying feeling in your head where all the sound and noise around you seems to just phase in and out of existence...man, I hate that. I look at my watch for the umpteenth time today...9:19pm...well, I might as well have a nap...best to rest my eyes now instead of later when I'll hopefully get the chance to go and see Stan.

It only takes my mind a minute once I've shut my eyes to send me into a very wierd dream. The sounds around me evaporate into low one-note pings and twitches. What starts as one-note making short noises soon turns into some kind of composed mess of bleeps and pings. Jesus Christ – it's THAT dream again. I've been having this dream ever since I was 17 – loud screeching backdrops and a very disturbing nightmarish feel to it. Every time, I'd dream the same thing – bombs dropping, guns being fired, explosions everywhere, shouting, screaming, horror-film type creepy loops...and in the middle of it all, that one lonely figure – confused, afraid, lost and depressed...Stan. I curse myself that I can't do anything to help him but I know that I'm merely a dreamer in this nightmarish World. So all I can do is just watch and hope that the little guy makes it out of all this chaos alive.

Back then, I wished that I could go out and find him – I couldn't accept the fact that he was alone out there. I knew it wouldn't be long before...he was next. My dream makes me shiver...not that I can physically feel it though. But...I'm glad now...I'm glad that I made that decision when I had the right power...physically, mentally AND emotionally...I found him and I brought him back here...where hopefully, he's safe now.

O Green World,
Don't desert me now.
Bring me back to a fallen town,
Where someone……is still alive.

Ah...the nightmare has become a dream. I see him there – shining like a night sky star...smiling, happy, enjoying life. And then, he looks at me...or at least I think it's me. He stretches out his arm and opens his hand. Should I try and reach for it? After all, it's only a dream. Ah, what the hell...

"Excuse me, Mr. Broflovski?" Someone shakes me on my shoulder. Dammit, and I was just about to reach Stan's hand. Well anyway, at least someone's finally come up to me. I rub my eyes, yawn and open them again. Looking up, I can see a 30-something doctor – dressed in a full white hospital uniform looking down at me. "May I have a quick word with you?" She says again. I stand up and she takes me to the side of the corridor.

"Kyle...are you related to Stan at all?"

I wish I was. "Ummmm, no...I'm not...we're just friends." Yeh, but I'm hoping for that to go beyond the mark of just 'friends'.

"OK...I just wanted to let you know the scale of Stan's condition."

"OK...I'm all ears."

She takes a deep breath and opens her eyes again at me. Aw-oh...is that a bad sign? "Stan has suffered injuries in his lower back and leg regions, Kyle. We believe this was caused by bullet injuries...or a sudden impact on force, but we're not sure. He's also suffering from dizzyness and a slight light-headed feeling." Well, I guess that would explain why I found him in that hole in the ground. But...Jesus...bullet wounds...no wonder the poor guy couldn't walk – I'd hate to take a guess at how long he's been lying down there unable to walk. "Thankfully, the bullet injuries aren't too severe and his wounds should heal in no time whatsoever. Doctors say that without that extra padding of clothing he had on, the bullets would have injured his back and two legs even more."

Phew, a few days of hospital and I guess Stan's out of here – thank goodness for that. "However..." However? However what?! Come on doc, spit it out. "We've noticed a much more worrying degree of symptom growing within Stan."

"W-what? A serious injury?!"

"No...much worse."

Oh God, much worse than a serious injury? WHAT THEN?!

"Stan is having major recurring nightmares Kyle."

"...What?! N-n-nightmares?"

"After the operation, Stan appeared to show uneasy signs of pain and distress – as if he were having nightmares...painful nightmares judging by his reactions."

Looking down at the ground, I can't believe what I'm hearing. I know having nightmares may be a natural thing to have for anybody in the World. But if what I've read is true, they can do some really serious damage to anybody's head. I breathe deep and look back up. "But...he will be OK, right doc?

But the doctor said nothing but simply gave me a half-easy smile. "Fortunately, we were able to take control of Stan's distressed behaviour. Unfortunately however, not only did it mean we had to inject him with sleep-inducing drugs, but we also had to..."

Come on doc, I'm sure it's not that bad. "Also had to what?"

"We had to...'secure' him down slightly."

There's only one thing that she can only mean by that. "I understand. So...can I see him?"

"Of course, follow me this way." The doctor smiles back – guiding me down the brightly lit corridor. Phew, that wasn't the answer I was expecting back from her, so I'm glad I'm gunna hopfully get a LONG time to see him. After a few seconds, she stops outside a smoothly-textured automatic door reading Room 409 on the front in a digtal-font type writing. So here we are – one door beyond is the Stan who I haven't seen for more than three hours and is probably gunna have more tubes and sensor pads connected to him...along with being strapped down to the bed like a nut-case.

After typing in some numbered sequence into the keypad next to the door, the doctor turns back to me. "Don't worry, there's no cameras fitted in the room – we understand that you'd probably want some privacy with him in there." Yeh sure, what do you think I'm gunna do to someone who's asleep AND strapped to a bed. Eeeeeeesh! Nevertheless, she walks off and I walk in – the door sliding open and closing again – making a vaccuum-like suck as it fits back in its closed position.

And there he is – after three hours. My face melts into a warm smile as I see him lye there in bed – sleeping so peacefully as the numerous machines and pieces of medical equipment surround and stay connected to him. An oxygen tube attached to his mouth, a more better-looking heart beat reader connected and loads of pads placed all over his body – hard to see how this isn't a serious situation. But god...nightmares? Well, based on the leather straps that are being used to keep him in bed on his hands and feet, I guess those nightmares must have been terrible. Still, it won't bother me...it'll never bother me when Stan's the one who's suffering. I'm here to help him and be with him – I know that for a fact.

Fighting for something new in this.
When no one needs the heart of me,

And I'll get out somewhere I've never been before...

I take my seat right next to his bed. Thank God for chairs like these – much better than the metal ones outside, man they suck. I move the chair over so that it's right next to Stan's bed. After angling it so that I'm looking at directly at Stan, I place my hands on the softness of the bed's silk quilts. I think I'm gunna need a lot of hope and faith in this hospital and their equipment tonight. I gently take hold of Stan's right hand and take hold with both my hands. Come on Stan, I know you can pull through. Hell, you've been in hospital before for things like this back when we were kids. Then again, you never were part of some stupid war that allowed you to get injured terribly, huh? My smile quickly fades into an emotion of hope.

A couple of hours pass. I haven't moved once from my seat – I've been here, by Stan's side for just over 2 hours now and the minutes seem to be flying by as I continue to gaze into Stan's young innocent face as he continues his long sleeping rest to recovery. I'm surprised he hasn't had any nightmares yet – well, at least since I've been in here. Maybe…maybe it's because I'm here. Hmmm, I wonder……does Stan know I'm here? Heh, I hope so. That would make me even happier than just being happy at the fact that I'm looking at him again. Yeh, I guess it's just one of those things huh. Me and Kyle have been best friends since kindergarten – we've never been seen as separate individuals…it's always been 'Stan & Kyle' – never separate…never alone. I like that – no…I love it. I don't care if people see it as weird, the only thing I care about…is Stan…and his feelings about us two.

Like I said, I hope he understands.

O Green World.
Don't desert me now.
Made of you and you of me,
But where are we, oh no.

Whenever either of us had a problem, or at worse, we felt down, the other would always be there for help and comfort. I remember them well – sitting by the lakeside for example and giving him a comforting hug around the shoulder whenever Stan was troubled with something. We used to do that when we maybe 10 or 11, it felt……better I guess. When we were about 14 or 15, Stan was finding it hard to cope with life at times. The years of a teenager can be hard for any dude to cope with, but Stan seemed to be really down the majority of the time. Thankfully, both myself AND Stan knew that I would always be there for him – the best friend he could ever have, he would always say whenever I cheered him up or made him smile again. I always seemed to be good in that field of life – emotions and whatnot. Stan knew it, I knew it. Yeh, we both knew it. Stan was the smarter-minded one…I was the caring-minded one.

So I guess you know now why I had and STILL have these deep feelings for him. If I can make him see that we belong together, that would make me so happy…and I hope it would make him happy too.

But I know you now, I know.
You…know me too.
You know me too.

And I would never force him into anything he's not happy with. All I want is for Stan to be happy…and that's all I've ever wanted since I was 10. I've suffered the emotional consequences of not being around him and with him in the past. So now, I hope that I can receive the rewards and happiness of being with him now.

I hope sex and drugs rust only into my self, slowly.

But I'm thinking positive now. The more and more I watch Stan in his slumbering state beside me……the more and more I believe that things WILL BE OK.

I hear the electronic door slide open in the room and I turn my vision towards it. A young nurse walks in with a ridiculous kind smile on her face.

"Excuse me sir, I hate to bother you, but visiting time is over I'm afraid."

"What?! Already?"

"Yes sir, we can't allow any non-patients within the building after one o clock."

What is she talking about?! It's only nearly mid-n………But as I look at my watch, the reality comes back to me. 1:02am I guess my focus on Stan and our wonderful past together put me off the reality of time-passing. But SHIT, I don't want to go. It's pointless explaining to the nurse why I HAVE to be here – not being with him for just over 10 years…and the fact that I'm……ahem…well y'know. "Please, can't I just stay this one night, PLEASE?!"

"I'm really sorry sir, hospital regulation rules. Don't worry, I'm sure your brother will be alright."

Is she fucking smoking something weird? He's me with probably the biggest bushy red hair in the whole World and Stan's got the sleekest, coolest style of black hair that ever existed – do we look like brothers nurse?! "Ummm, I'm not his brother, I'm……just a friend."

"Well I'm gunna have to ask you to leave." Suddenly, her voice turns from a kind commanding tone to a voice of young desperation. "Come on, I have to finish my work-shift and get back home to start packing – me and my boyfriend are leaving for a plane flight at LA-X in four hours."

A-HA! I found your weakness little missy. You must be new around these areas. Guess I can use this to my cheeky advantage. "OK…I'll go. Let me just collect my things. I may be a while…so why don't you head off and finish your shift – I'm sure you're looking forward to that holiday of yours." I wink to her.

"Ummmm, yeh sure. But as long as leave as soon as you're finished."

"Yeh yeh yeh, I will, I will."

I can tell she's not been in this job long. She's got that 'Oh God, what do I do' look on her face. Thankfully, she makes the right decision (in my eyes) and exits the room – the door sliding to its closed position behind her. Phew, that was too close for comfort. But……at least I'm staying here. Yes, a night to spend by Stan's side. I walk over to the room's set of drawers and lift off the object that's neatly been sitting on the op since I first walked in here. Thank God I spotted it first when I came in here earlier this evening. Taking hold of it and allowing it to drop to its full and proper shape, I place it across the arm of the chair and start to get undressed – slowly taking off my clothes and neatly folding them on the other arm of the chair.

I've spent the day wearing my new favorite style of clothing – a black and red graphic-covered T-Shirt and a nicely matching dark pair of jeans. And oh yes, I designed the graphics for the shirt myself.

Right, that's everything…shirt, jeans, socks, shoes, belt……and boxers. Right, on goes the minty green hospital gown. With it now on – only going down to my kneecaps and as high up as my elbows, I begin to move the 2nd bed in the room up closer towards Stan's bed so that's it exactly next to it……yeh, two single beds that look like a single double bed. Finally sliding the chair back, I move the bed into position so that there are only millimeters between our two beds. Thankfully, there's more than enough room for the surrounding machines around Stan's bed to still work properly……which is more than good. So I lift the covers back and I hop in this 2nd bed – lifting back the covers so that like Stan, I'm lying in……one hell of a comfy, warm bed…God, this is great. I feel even more relieved that I thought of this idea now. If any nurses or doctors pass by and come in to check on Stan, I could just turn the other way and pretend I'm just another patient sharing Stan's room. Yep……I should be fine…for another day at least.

I rotate my body to the left so that I'm on my side – looking again at Stan. I know I'm not going to be able to keep awake much longer……but I guess every second more just makes it even better. Yep, much better……much…much…better………much………much…………much……….better. Oh great, I'm going to asleep just at the point where I find myself lying next to Stan for the first time ever. Well, let's hope tomorrow is a much better day……especially for Stan. Goodnight Stan, sleep well……I know you will…let's hope I do too.