Kenny's POV
Unconsciousness was a funny thing; some people loved to romanticize it, make it out like you're floating in some endless abyss waiting until a shred of light tore through the seemingly endless blackness blah, blah, blah. In fact, it wasn't anything like that at all. It was all like a blink; one moment I was in one place and the next, someplace else. It was disorientating and nothing compares to that panic that rises in you when you realise you have no clue where you are. The worst of it is, when you think you're momentarily blind and all you can do is hear everything around you. Alarmingly loud beeping sounded by my ears out of nowhere, and I heard a murmur like someone was talking to me.
"...Kenny...find...hurt...now...rest...worry...I...you...sorry..."
None of what this voice was saying made any sense, and the voice was just a whisper, one that could've belonged to anybody. It felt like I was trapped in this tunnel in my mind, and someone was beating on the outside of it, telling me everything I needed to hear but I couldn't hear any of it. The walls began to close in on me and I felt like the air would be crushed out of me before I could understand what this voice was trying to tell me. My eyelids were too heavy to lift, I could only listen and feel all of the pains in my body start to prickle alive. A dark, droning throbbing erupted in my skull, focused mainly in the right hand corner of my forehead. It's funny how alive you feel despite being in an as good as dead state.
Then I felt something I did not expect. Soft, warm gusts blowing into my face and it took me a second to realise it wasn't a rare warm breeze I was feeling, but someone's breath. Breath usually really put me off; especially the stale one of the morning but this person's breath was scentless and heated up my face. A smooth curtain fell over my face, tickling my face, neck and nose. The voice, that had momentarily ceased, started again, a little clearer this time.
"Sorry..." it said for the second time before pressing something tender and warm against my lips. I would've yelped with surprise if my mouth wasn't momentarily sealed shut, since it dawned on me that someone was kissing me. Something tingled inside of me but it didn't last long for the kiss ended, the owner of those lips parting from me. It was like a ship departing from the docks, holding something very important to me on board and I desperately wanted to climb back on, get whatever it was that I was missing. But, in my immobile state, that was impossible.
A new voice, one I'd heard somewhere before, was speaking. The only word I could catch was "...rest..." and I heard some footsteps, growing distant as they left my side. Who was that with me? Who'd kissed me? God, I wanted to know.
As if it had been a mere trick of the mind, my eyes felt light like I'd just woken up from a pleasant dream. They snapped open without me even thinking about it and I sat up in the bed I found myself in. Every sound made sense now. The beeping was a heart monitor by my bedside. The chill that had settled in my bones was because I was in a hospital gown. The room was empty though.
And just like that, something tore inside of me and all of those emotions flooded back. They'd been held back by some kind of wall that was raised whenever someone was unconscious or sleeping. The moment my eyes were open, the wall was raised and the feelings were no longer barred. They were free to go nuts and my eyes brimmed with immediate tears, though it wasn't exactly clear to me why I was feeling this way. I buried my face in my hands, a twinge of déjà vu glinting in me like I'd already done this. The instant I closed my eyes again, I understood why I was hurting.
Kyle...
000
Stan's POV
May 14th
It's been twenty-eight days since Kenny was found and taken to Hell's Pass Hospital for treatment due to his head injury and minor pneumonia. He went home a week after the seventeenth but he hadn't returned to school yet, let alone seen any of us. It was like his existence was just erased, like every trace had been devoured by some creature who wanted everyone to forget him. The only people who didn't seem to forget were Kyle, Cartman [1] and I. We'd all seen him at one point during his stay at the hospital, but the time we'd gone together, Kenny had been asleep. Kyle and I had a few moments alone with him each (Cartman wasn't trusted alone) though he showed no signs of waking up.
Mrs McCormick had called me when Kenny had woken up, apparently a few minutes after we'd left. None of us had returned though, not to my knowledge anyway. I guess it 'cos we had no idea what to say. It was blatant to all of us that he was hurting, otherwise we'd of heard something from him. All the same, I was worried and I would bet all the money I owned that Kyle was too.
Things hadn't exactly been the same. Kyle was...well...he didn't say much. Cartman's nose was nearly completely healed and I think he's put aside the whole revenge thing, considering Kenny was absolutely miserable. We tried to go on as normal, but it was difficult, almost as if we were missing a limb. We couldn't stand steadily with just the three of us; we desperately needed Kenny back.
So, I decided to go pay a visit. I had tried to keep my distance, give him space y'know so I wasn't all in his face bugging him and nagging him to go back to school, 'cos I knew that would only make matters worse. But twenty-eight days? That was way too long and our exams would start soon. I bet he didn't even know what days the exams were or what the tests would even be on. I know I sound like a drip worrying about his education rather than his well-being, but that isn't true. I was way more worried about his well-being, and that is why I was concerned about his education...if that makes any sense? If he failed all his exams over Kyle, that would make everything shitter than it already was.
"Stan, I need you to help me clear out the shed after school today," dad sprang this shit at me as I was half way out the door.
"Er, dad I really can't," teetering on the edge of a heated debate over this, I decided to stand my ground and not put this off a day longer.
"Of course you can, Stanley," he insisted, using my full name so to discreetly stress how set he was on this request. "The new shed's coming tomorrow and I need your help emptying it out. I'm sure whatever you have planned can be delayed for another day, right?"
Despite being severely tempted to give in, I knew that 'another day' for this plan would not happen. I had plucked up the courage to go visit my friend who had taken an emotional throttle and I knew if I tried to postpone it, I would keep finding reasons to put it off. That's what I always did whenever facing an issue I desperately wanted to avoid.
"Dad, I'm going to see Kenny today," I tried one more time, knowing pulling the Kenny card was disgraceful but affective all at once.
Dad peered at me from over the top of his newspaper, his mouth in an 'o' shape as if something inside of his brain had just clicked. Closing up his paper, he rose and came over to me, putting one hand on the top of my head in the patronizing manner he always did whenever he was lost for words. As he ruffled my hair, I knew I was off the hook and I felt the remorse for using Kenny as an excuse sweep on in.
"I'll ask Gerald," Dad said awkwardly, clearing his throat and dropping his hand. "Give Kenny our best wishes, son."
See, even the parents knew Kenny's situation...well, part of it. They assumed his home life had caught up with him and had led him to attempt running away from home. No one seemed to associate Kyle with the situation, and perhaps that was for the best. I bet Kyle and Kenny was just trying to put this all behind them; it'd do no good for either of them if their parents were at war, playing the 'your-son-turned-my-son-gay' blame game.
"Erm...okay?" I mumbled, shifting my rucksack uneasily on my shoulder before turning my back on him and making my way to school.
Even though nothing was now stopping me from seeing Kenny, I found myself trying to find reasons not to go. Not 'cos I didn't wanna offer him a shoulder to cry on or anything like that, but 'cos I was bad at handling people when they were upset. I always felt uncomfortable when someone would pour out their feelings and I'd only be able to provide mantra that went along the lines of 'it's gonna be okay, you'll see, everything will get better' and I hated saying that shit 'cos I didn't know for certain and I always felt like I was lying. I kept telling myself that Kenny wouldn't want to see me, seeing as though Kyle did all that shit to get my attention but, all the same, I didn't know if Kyle had revealed that much to Kenny or not. Maybe Kyle didn't say it was me, maybe Kenny had no idea...maybe he didn't quite hate me.
The day went at a choppy speed, sometimes time would accelerate and I would find myself completely lost and in a daze, wondering how I was managing to make it from one place to another. Then other times time would chug along, making every minute excruciating. The worst was when I was in English, sitting alone again since Kenny wasn't in. I was left in isolation and with my thoughts that didn't seem capable of fixating on something for longer than a minute without drifting back over to Kenny.
At one point, I was utterly oblivious to Mr. Cunningham talking to me that he had to come straight to my desk and slam his hands on my desk to get my attention. I shot out of whatever daze I'd found myself in and felt the colour drain from my face as I realised everyone in the room was staring at me, perplexed and curious.
"Nice of you to join us, Stanley," Mr. Cunningham said coolly. "Now, for the eighth time, would you like to read the poem you've been working on?"
Panic tugged at my insides and I scrambled through my rucksack, spilling its contents onto the ground like the water from a fish tank. Ignoring some sniggers I received from the other students, I flicked through my workbooks, searching for the one entitled 'English'. I found it at last, at the very bottom, only to see it didn't have my name in the box at the top. It read in a very scraggly script:
KENNY MCCORMICK
ENGLISH,
Seeing his name written before me, even though I'd said it aloud a few times in conversation and sometimes to myself, made a great lump rise in my throat like my heart was rising in there. It just made his absence all the more real as I thought about him writing out his name next to me on that first day in September when we got new books, when everything was okay. He'd asked me how to spell Cunningham, and he'd jokingly dotted the 'i's with stars. The pages were curled and torn in places, a coffee stain on the front. He'd never really taken good care of his school books. I glimpsed over my other books but I couldn't see English anywhere. In order to prevent admitting this to Mr. Cunningham and the eagerly awaiting class, I decided to use Kenny's book instead. I opened it out on the desk to avoid anyone seeing the name, and found a poem. With a deep, shaky breath, dreading it to be horrendous and having to take the credit for it, I began to read:
[2] "Is this the end of the moment
Or just a beautiful unfolding
Of a love that will never be?
Or maybe be
Everything that I never thought could happen
Or ever come to pass and
I wonder
If maybe
Maybe I could be
All you ever dreamed, cause you are
Beautiful inside
So lovely and I
Can't see why I'd do anything without you, you are
And when I'm not with you
I know that it's true
That I'd rather be anywhere but here without you
Is this a natural feeling
Or is it just me bleeding
All my thoughts and dreams
In hope that you will be with me or
Is this a moment to remember
Or just a cold day in December?
I wonder
If maybe
Maybe I could be
All you ever dreamed, cause you are
Beautiful inside
So lovely and I
Can't see why I'd do anything without you, you are
And when I'm not with you
I know that it's true
That I'd rather be anywhere but here without you
Is this the end of the moment
Or just a beautiful unfolding
Of a love that will never be
For you and me?"
My heart clenching tightly like a fist of iron was caging it, I lifted my eyes from the poem to the class. Everyone seemed indifferent to what I'd just read; no one was interested. Mr. Cunningham had his lips pressed tightly together, arms crossed at his chest. I turned away from them, instead looking to the words, devouring each and every one. The taste, that was once definitely sweet, was bitter and that was because I knew what had fuelled Kenny to write that. It had been Kyle and now...
"Thank you, Stan," Mr. Cunningham said flatly, taking in a deep breath. "Maggie, do you mind reading yours out to the class?"
Attention temporarily averted from me, I pored over Kenny's poem, my vision fogging. Only when I put a hand to my cheek did I feel the cool, sticky trail of tears that had escaped without my knowing. I hastily rubbed my eyes on my sleeve, assuring myself that no one saw. When the bell rang, I felt the dread sitting there within me and it took me a few extra minutes than normal to scrape my belongings into my bag and leave my seat. The classroom was deserted by the time I reached the door, just Mr. Cunningham sitting at his desk with his glasses sliding down his crooked nose. I was nearly out the door when he stopped me.
"Stan, can I speak with you for a second?"
Knowing full well this was to do with the poem, I dragged my feet along the carpeted floors as I reversed, standing with my head bowed in front of his desk. He didn't speak for a good five minutes, jotting something down on a sheet of paper. As I shuffled my feet nervously, he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes before reapplying them. He turned to me and raised his eyebrows so his forehead crinkled.
"So, Stanley, why did you feel it necessary to read Mr. McCormick's work out to the class and claiming it as your own?" he asked, crossing his arms firmly at his chest again.
Stunned, I could only blink dumbly at him, trying to ensure I heard that right before answering. "E-excuse me, sir?"
"That was Kenny's work you read to the class, Stan," Mr. Cunningham repeated. "I'm not blind or have the memory of a goldfish. I remember reading that piece around...January, was it? Your poem read a little bit along the lines of," he reached into his drawer and pulled out my workbook, opening it up to a page that he'd marked by folding the corner and read: "You have pretty eyes, Eyelashes that go flutter, flutter, Oh sweetheart you make me melt like butter..."
Highly embarrassed, I interrupted him. "Stop, stop." I frowned. "If you knew I didn't have my book on me, sir, why did you let me read Kenny's poem to the class?"
"You weren't concentrating, Stanley," Mr. Cunningham explained, grinning widely, most likely at my poem. "I wanted to see what you'd do; pretend you had your book or admit you'd done no work throughout the entire lesson. Well, you decided to use Mr. McCormick's book. However, since he wasn't here to let the class hear his work I had you read it. Wonderful piece, isn't it?"
Tugging at the sleeves of my jacket, I nodded sheepishly. "Yeah...yeah, it was...definitely something, sir. I'm sorry. I've got a lot on my mind..."
"I know you have," it was his turn to cut me off. "One of your best friend has been absent for four weeks, I can't exactly blame you for being distracted. But still, I'd appreciate it a lot if you paid attention. You do know you have an exam in a few weeks, right?"
I'd been the one who had been concerned over Kenny's education, but in actuality my education was paying the price and my grades were kinda slipping. This fact made me squirm and blush. I gave a jerky nod.
Mr. Cunningham handed me back my book and, on top of that, was the paper he'd just been writing on. Perplexed, I started to read it. It was a note...to Kenny...telling him his poem had rewarded him with an A+ and that he should get back to school soon. Smiling faintly, I bade goodbye to Mr. Cunningham and left, the note burning in my fingers for I knew I had to deliver it straight away...
000
The truck was absent from the front yard and when I knocked on the door nobody answered...I would've turned away and headed home, taking that nobody was home but the door swung with a high pitched squeal upon contact. Something told me that this wasn't right, it couldn't be. A part of me screamed for me to leave, told me that I should get someone to come with me but I just assumed that was the kid in me talking, that I being tempted by my childish fears.
"Hello? Mrs McCormick? Mr. McCormick? Kenny?"
My voice echoed around me, bouncing on the wall and hitting me with a chilling fear. I felt my knees buckle a little, but I pushed myself onward, heading into the hallway. I glanced into the living room. Nothing there. I pressed on, looking into the kitchen to find it empty. The moment I'd walked in, my eyes had immediately jumped to Kenny's bedroom door, and it was as if it was staring at me the entire time I was checking the other rooms, boring into me and demanding attention. Eventually, I could no longer disregard it. Something told me that Kenny was in there.
I licked my dried, chapped lips, trying not to over think about the situation, trying not to imagine the worst. I kept imagining him looking not even a shade of what he used to be; I saw him without that brightness in his eyes, without that natural grin, a voice that once buried all of his hurts, unearthing them for me to see. I couldn't bear to see that hurt, let alone one that Kyle, my best friend, had caused on my behalf. Hands clammy, I balled them into a fist, squeezed my eyes shut and knocked once.
"Kenny?" I called, feeling a sense of no return creep into my consciousness. "Kenny, you in there? It's me, Stan." No reply. If this was someone else, if this wasn't Kenny, I would've turned away and assumed that he truly wasn't there...but it was Kenny. I had to know for definite if he was behind that door. I had to see for myself, with my own eyes.
The door stopped short as I attempted to push it open; a barrier sat there and that provided evidence that Kenny was there. Peering through the crack that the door gave, I could just about see what was preventing my entry. A chest of drawers sat there in my way.
"Kenny, I'm coming in!" I warned, giving him one last chance to let me in himself. When I received no reply, I rolled up my sleeves to my elbows (not out of need but out of habit, one that I'd inherited from my dad) and began to push with all my strength, which wasn't a lot. My chest aching and the muscles in my arms straining, I shoved as hard as I could, contemplating what I'd do if the door suddenly collapsed inwards and Kenny wasn't there. The drawers shifted, and it was almost like an encouraging cry from a friend, one that chanted: "There you've nearly done it! Keep pushing!"
I toppled into the room, nearly landing on my face as I lost my balance. The door slammed into the wall with the force and the drawers collapsed backwards to land with a heavy, loud thump on the floor. Panting and feeling immensely proud of myself, I nearly forgot why I'd nearly broken down the door for in the first place. When it hit me, I half expected to look up to see Kenny sitting on the bed, headphones in whilst reading some porn magazine, blinking curiously up at me. That's what I wanted to see. What I saw instead made my heart stop and my body quake, so much so I slid down the wall and stared wide eyed at the scene before me.
Kenny was lying on his bed, eyes closed with his right arm dangling loosely from the side of the bed. On his wrist, were deep, vicious red marks, dried lines of blood down his arm.
"KENNY!"
000
[3]
You gotta swim,
Swim for your life,
Swim for the music that saves you,
When you're not so sure you'll survive,
You gotta swim,
And swim when it hurts,
The whole world is watching,
You haven't come this far,
To fall off the earth...
000
Sorry for such a cliff hanger ^^; There are more chapters so don't stop reading! Pretty please. I really hope this fanfiction is going alright for you guys. The last chapter was a nightmare since I had been working on it for a few days. When I write these chapters, I have to write them in one day or I forget what I'm doing and lose interest. That's why most updates are pretty much daily, since I know what I'm writing and I usually don't get writer's block. Unfortunately, I was busy whilst writing the last chapter and I just about managed to write it without scrapping it and restarting.
Thanks for all of the amazing reviews; they mean so much to me that people are actually reading this story. It means a lot to me and I can't thank you lot enough.
[1] I figured Cartman would miss Kenny because he would have planned his revenge and would've wanted to deal it out as soon as possible. Unfortunately, he was unable to get his own back and, knowing Cartman, it was probably driving him insane.
[2] Sadly, this poem was not by me. It is actually a song called "Anywhere but Here" by a band called Safetysuit. Trust me, I tried to write a poem and I just lost the knack at writing them. I haven't wrote one since I was set the same task nearly two years ago in English class so I used the words from a song that is very important to me. So, this wasn't by me and I hope you guys can forgive me XD
[3] This is a song called "Swim" by Jack's Mannequin. To me, it really reflects what Stan is wanting from Kenny, and what he just wants Kenny to do.
Thanks for reading! ~ Maisy