Anything for You 3
Kyle's POV
My heart ached but I held it together, my face blank as Kenny continued to drill me. Stan caught up with us soon enough and made him stop.
I had never wanted anyone so badly in my life as I walked back from the penitentiary. It was the most bizarre feeling, considering I had hated him passionately up until the moment he got involved with Maz Kanett. I felt so, so guilty for that. It was my business and Cartman butted in, and now he was locked up for it. Why didn't he just tell everyone? He had always hated me as much as I did him. Cartman loved to see me angry, loved to piss me off, and made the hard times more difficult to bear. All of this was true, yes, up until Maz Kanett.
It was very lucky that my eighteenth birthday had been only days after the accident. As much as I loved my mother, it was a relief to finally go somewhere without her nose in my business. What I really needed was a shrink, but that would have been too suspicious to my parents. I gave her the excuse that my head ached, because it really did. But that was the least of my problems. A doctor would have to suffice, and I was pretty sure they had to keep what I told them a secret. I had read through my Dad's old college law books.
"Kyle!"
The voice hit me out of nowhere and I swung, punching the person in the stomach. I focused and realized that it was only Kenny who had been walking with me and Stan from the penitentiary.
"Shit Brof, what the hell is your malfunction?" Kenny said from where he sat on the sidewalk.
"Oh Jesus, I'm sorry! You spooked me." I reached for him and he reluctantly took my hand, grumbling as he brushed the gravel from his clothes.
"I spooked you?" he complained, "You were zoning out when I was talking to you so I kept saying your name and then you went psycho!"
"You were totally out of it," Stan agreed.
"Sorry."
"Yeah, whatever," Kenny said in his way of forgiving. "You punch like a wussy anyway."
My mind was corroding slowly as days became weeks. Touch became fire to me, and I couldn't stand anyone near me. I felt terrible when I snapped at Stan, but it couldn't be helped. He should have kept his hands to himself. I kept getting spooked and kept zoning out, obsessing over Cartman and Maz Kanett. Kenny finally gave up and left me alone. Stan stopped bothering to talk to me, but he stayed by my side as he always did, at lunch as well as class.
I tossed and turned at night and never left the house besides school. I began to fail tests and miss assignments, but who could manage to study when they were tempted to sneak into the hospital and murder a man in his sleep? Finishing the job wouldn't make anything easier, especially for Cartman. I worried that he was the only thing keeping me from becoming a cold blooded killer. I was already a monster, so why not take the step? Cartman, that's why.
Since I couldn't murder Kanett, my fantasies turned on me. I very briefly contemplated suicide. I would have loved to escape this hell but once again Cartman prevented my action. If I died, the secret would be lost forever. Cartman would stay in prison for a long time, maybe for life. I wasn't that horrible as to do that. But then again, maybe I was. I was doing it now, wasn't I? I was keeping the secret to save myself at the cost of Cartman's freedom.
There was one thing I did try. I dug my sister's Swiss army knife into my arm, not enough to kill me but enough to hurt. And Jesus, it hurt more than I had imagined. I must have dug a little too deep because it bled like crazy, enough that I was tempted to go to the emergency room. But it stopped, and I didn't go anywhere. I wanted to do it again but I was too miserable of a coward to even punish myself. Plus, it didn't pass Cartman.
I visited him alone the day after I had cut myself, and I absent mindedly stroked my coat where the wound was hidden. Cartman assessed my expression as he usually did when I visited him, and told me like usual that I should take it easy. What a ridiculous notion.
"What's wrong with your arm?" Cartman said emotionlessly.
"Nothing. Why?"
Cartman didn't answer as he looked at my arm.
"Pull up your sleeve."
"No!" I protested, putting my arm under the table and grabbing the phone where it had been nestled against my shoulder. I sat up and frowned at him. "You think I'm cutting now? You're so paranoid."
"If I'm crazy, confirm it by showing me your arm." Cartman played.
I didn't have to show him anything then, because it was all in my face.
"You're fucking stupid," Cartman growled.
"Why do you care?" I asked.
Cartman looked puzzled.
"Why do you care what happens to me?" I asked again. "Why did you care?" I said, leaning closer to the glass. 'Care enough to get involved,' I wanted to say, and I hoped he understood. Cartman didn't answer, his eyes burning more as I waited. "Why, Cartman?" I demanded loudly.
Cartman stood so fast then that his chair knocked over. He leaned close enough to the glass that the guard couldn't see his face. He couldn't speak it so he mouthed the words.
'Because I want to fuck you.'
My heart jumped into my throat and my jaw dropped. Cartman began to put the phone down but I banged on the glass until he heard me. He hesitantly put the phone to his ear.
"As soon as you get out, I'll let you," I agreed.
Cartman looked more shocked than I had ever seen, but it was quickly replaced with what looked like disappointment. He shook his head and hung up the phone, just as the guard came to escort him away.
TBC. Please review!