The next morning, I feign illness to my mom, feeling too upset to go to school. I don't want to see Cartman's face again. I can't bear seeing him. It'll only hurt me more. My heart feels close to breaking…
I don't want to see Stan or Kenny either, for the same reason. Just seeing them hurts me. I'd much rather stay at home and try to take my mind off things.
My mom believes me when I say I'm sick. I'm not usually sick so on the odd day that I say I am, she nearly always believes me. Besides, with the little sleep I've been getting lately, I probably look like death anyway. My mom allows me to stay in and not go to school, as long as I catch up on my schoolwork and study in bed.
I don't do anything at all for the entire day. I just lie on my bed, gazing up at the ceiling, many thoughts running through my mind.
My life completely sucks right now. All I feel is sorrow and pain, not one trace of happiness seeming to be present inside me. I've never felt like this before. I didn't think I ever would. I feel like my life is meaningless and the thought of ending it doesn't bother me in the slightest. I've always been the type of person who would much rather stay strong, always telling myself I can get through whatever bad things are coming my way. But right now, I'm just not that person anymore.
Even though suicide does seem like a blessing right now, I'm not going to stoop that low. I am stronger than that. I feel suicide is almost selfish. It would really upset my family, the only ones who seem to care about me, and I don't want to hurt them. They don't deserve it.They love me and they're the only ones right now keeping me from giving up.
I almost hate them for that. If they hated me like everyone else does, I could end my life and be free from all this pain and no one would mind or feel hurt at all.
But that isn't the case. I have to stay alive and somehow remain strong. I have to toughen it out until I'm finally free from all this pain. That could be days, weeks, months, maybe even a year or more. But I can try, as hard as I can.
I have a feeling I'll fail though. I'm constantly on the verge of tears. I'm on the edge of breaking down and there's no one here to save me.
My life seems utterly meaningless right now. I feel empty and broken. I may have said that I won't let Cartman break my heart, that I won't let his plan succeed, but I think it's too late. Though his plan didn't go the way he and I both thought it would, he still managed to break me, with some help from everyone else around me.
The hurt I feel from Cartman's plan and everything else he's done, as well as Stan and Kenny completely abandoning me, along with everyone in school who's always ripping on me, I've finally snapped.
I can actually feel my heart torn in two and it's not a pleasant feeling. It's all Cartman's fault. He ruined my life. I can't bear the pain…
-/-/-/-/-/
For the next few days, I remain in bed, honestly feeling sick now. I don't have to pretend.
My head is throbbing, my stomach feels heavy and there's an unstoppable burning feeling inside my chest where my heart is located, and it won't go away.
I've barely moved at all since the first day I missed school. I've been lying still atop my bed, staring at the ceiling for hours on end.
My mom, dad or sometimes Ike have been spoon-feeding me at my bedside and making me drink through a straw. They've all been telling me, almost forcing me, to at least leave my bed and walk around or go downstairs, but I completely refuse to. I get up to go to the toilet every few hours but other than that, I stay motionless on my bed.
My phone constantly rings though I don't answer the calls. I don't even look at the phone. I know who's calling though. Every one of my 'friends' has a different ring tone for when they're calling me.
Most calls have been from Cartman, though a good few others have been from Stan or Kenny. I don't know why they're calling. They don't even care about me.
-/-/-/-/
Over the next few days, I hear the doorbell ring and the sounds of Stan or Kenny's voices enter my ears. My mom doesn't let them in though, thank God. She tells them I'm too sick.
They finally stop coming around after about the fifth or sixth time and I'm left in peace.
-/-/-/-/-/
The third week passes and I'm still stuck in bed, feeling worse than ever. My skin feels like it's on fire and I'm constantly sweating. My heart never stops hurting and it stops me from sleeping.
I'm sure I look a right mess.
Ike comes in with a glass of ice-cold water and a straw. I sip it gently, the cool water burning my throat blissfully as I gulp it down. Ike leaves when I've drank it all and I continue to stare at the ceiling, the same daily routine.
Suddenly, the doorbell rings, startling me a bit, and I listen closely to hear a voice.
"No, he's too sick. I'm sorry," my mom says, her loud voice making it easy for me to hear.
The other voice, however, isn't as loud and I have to strain my ears to hear it. I think it's Stan but I can't be sure.
"Alright alright, if you're not going to leave otherwise, then come in," my mom says, surprising me.
She's actually letting him in! No god damn way!
I hear him, whoever it is, running up the stairs, faster than necessary. Suddenly, my room is barged open, startling me inside though, on the outside, I appear unfazed.
I don't turn my head, continuing to gaze skywards, still unsure of who's in my room.
"Kahl…" I hear the visitor breathe, and I instantly know exactly who it is.
He slowly walks up to me and his head appears in front of mine, confirming my guess.
"Cartman…" I whisper in my mind, my lips not seeming to work for me.
"Kahl… you… you look terrible. Your eyes…" A look of shock and fear crosses his face as he stares down into my lifeless eyes, my life having drained from them gradually. The pain in my heart increases when I see his face and I mentally yell at him to move, so the pain will stop.
"This is my fault," he breathes quietly, his eyes widened as he backs away slightly. "I did this… I… I'm so sorry, Kahl." His voice cracks at my name and I see tears pricking his eyes as he stares down at me, though he doesn't dare let them escape. Eric Cartman doesn't cry.
"Kahl, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I never wanted any of this to happen, I promise. Please… talk to me. Say something. Anything!"
An escaped tear rolls down his cheek and he angrily swipes it away. "Kahl, talk to me, please. I want to see life in your eyes again. I want you back. I need you back."
He places a hand under my chin, gently turning my head so I'm forced to look into his eyes. A glare slowly appears on his face and he grips my shoulders firmly, shaking me slightly.
"Fuck you, Kahl!" he yells. "Fuck you! How dare you do this to yourself, to me, to everyone around you? I hate you for doing this to yourself. I hate you, though I still hate myself even more for letting this happen. I didn't mean it. It was an accident.
"But you just decided to leave me! To leave everyone who cares about you. You Jews are all the same, always just thinking about yourselves! You sicken me. You no-good, sneaky, evil, filthy little Jew-rat!"
As the last word leaves his mouth, I feel a rush of something powerful shoot through me. It feels like rage. It quickly builds up and I suddenly jump up from my spot on the bed, sitting upright, my eyes now on Cartman's, a heated glare on my face.
"Don't belittle my people, you fucking fatass!" I shout.
Slowly, Cartman's angry and shocked expression turns into a wide grin and, without warning, he throws his arms around me, hugging me tightly to his chest, startling me.
"Kahl, you're back! I can't believe it! You're actually back!"
I can barely breathe in his tight embrace and so flail my arms around wildly, gasping and spluttering over his shoulder. He finally releases me and I drop back on the bed, lying on my back once again.
"Kahl, you had me so fucking worried, you stupid Jew! There was no life in you at all. You were like some Jewish zombie. A Jombie!"
He chuckles at his stupid joke and then hauls me upwards again, pulling me in for another hug, though looser this time so I can breathe. My arms stay by my sides as I'm unsure whether or not I should return his hug.
"Kahl, I've missed you. You had me really scared. I couldn't stop thinking about you. I'm just so glad you're okay."
His hold on me tightens slightly and I gaze uncertainly at the side of his head, unsure of how to feel.
After a couple of slow-coming seconds, reality dawns on me and I realise just who it is who's hugging me. Without anymore hesitation, I place my two hands on his chest and push him away, immediately separating the warm embrace.
He stares at me in confusion, looking slightly hurt. I ignore the look on his face and instead ask him the question I've been wanting to ask since he first came in here.
"Why are you here, Cartman?" I ask icily, feeling anger bubbling up inside me again.
He frowns. "I'm here because I care about you, you stupid Jew."
"Bullshit!" I cry, glaring heatedly at him. "You don't care about me. You never did! You hate me and love to hurt me. That's just who you are. You don't care about anyone but yourself!"
"That's not true, Kahl!" Cartman shouts, his eyes never seeming to leave mine. "I am capable of caring for other people. Though, I do admit, there are only a few others I care about, besides myself. But you happen to be one of those few, Kahl. You lucky Jew."
I roll my eyes, sick to death of looking at him. "Don't ever touch me again, Cartman. Ever! Now get out of my house!"
Cartman appears surprised, though he only shows it for a brief moment. He then grows serious again, his brows furrowing slightly while deep lines crease his forehead. His eyes remain locked on mine, and I end up gazing back, lost in his eyes though I'm still fully focused on the conversation.
"Kahl, I don't understand you. At all. Why won't you believe anything I say? First, it was the rumour, then the drawing, and now you don't believe that I care about you. Why is it so hard for you to believe anything I say? What did I ever do that was so bad that your faith and trust in me is as low as it could possibly get?"
I scoff, unable to believe what I'm hearing.
"The question is not 'what have you done,' it's 'what haven't you done?'" I answer, my voice dripping with venom. "All my life, Cartman, you've been there, constantly ripping on me, plotting against me, dreaming of killing me and God knows what else! You've always ruined my life. Always! And you actually have the balls to ask me what you've done to make my trust in you go so low? Screw you, fatass."
His eyes widen slightly, and his frown is replaced by a blank stare, as if he's just realised something.
"Kahl, listen. I know I've been terrible to you. I don't think I've ever treated you the way you deserve to be treated. I'm sorry for everything I've ever said or done to hurt you, and I don't expect you to forgive me. But I just want you to know that I do care about you. I always have. That's why I saved you all those years ago from the smug storm. I risked my own life to save yours, and I know it was crazy… but I did it anyway. I had to… for you. I do care about you, Kahl. And I just want you to believe me."
My eyes widen as I gape at him, only now remembering that day on the basketball court when he first admitted to me about saving my life when we were kids. I remember that day clearly, as if it had only just happened. Cartman was so open that day, so honest. Just like he seems to be now…
I know many people would disagree with me, even I find it hard to believe, but there is a different side to Cartman that rarely ever comes out. He's only presented it to me twice before - that day on the basketball court, and right now at this very moment.
This side of him is so rare but it is there. This side shows that he isn't entirely heartless like he usually seems. He has a heart and he has feelings. And I guess, maybe he is capable of caring for others besides himself. I may even go as far to say that he is capable of love…
I blink twice, slowly, letting all these thoughts settle in my mind before I decide to address them properly.
"I… believe you," I say softly, surprising even myself and meeting Cartman's surprised gaze, his eyes appearing to light up.
"You do?" he asks, studying me closely for any hint of a lie.
"I do," I reply, honestly. "I believe you, Cartman. But," I begin, and his face falls, "I don't believe that you didn't start the rumour or plan to break my heart."
He exhales an exasperated sigh, looking worn out, though the determination in his eyes remain. He seems determined to make me believe him.
"Kahl, I don't have any proof of any sort to show you I'm not lying. But I swear on my life and yours that I did not start that rumour. And that drawing was genuine."
I frown. "What do you mean it was genuine?"
"I mean, I didn't draw it as part of any plan or scheme of any sort. I drew it because it is my honest answer for the theme."
I continue to frown, many doubts filling my mind. Seeing that I still don't believe him, Cartman sighs and reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a folded sheet of paper. He hands it to me and gazes directly into my eyes as I begin to unfold it, eventually revealing his art project. I must have left it with him when I showed it to him last.
I stare down at it for a long time before looking back up at Cartman, silently asking what he's trying to prove. He shifts closer to me until we're sitting right next to each other, our shoulders touching.
"Look at it, Kahl," he says softly, and I willingly comply. "Tell me, in your honest opinion, what you think of it."
I frown, confused at why he's asking me that but I don't bother asking questions.
"It's really good," I say truthfully, my eyes running over every inch of the drawing, admiring it.
"Honestly?" Cartman asks me.
"Honestly," I reply. "It's amazing, Cartman."
"Well then, tell me this," he says. "If I only wanted to draw this for a plan, to make you think I loved you just so I could hurt you, then why would I work so damn hard on it? If I wanted it for a plan, I could have scribbled something down and it would still make you think the same thing. Even if it was a simple, badly drawn picture of you, your reaction would have been the exact same. It would still give you the impression that I have feelings for you, which I could still use to hurt you. So why would I work for days and days on it, if I didn't need to?"
I stare at him beside me, our eyes meeting, our faces only inches away.
"I… I don't know," I softly admit.
"Look down again." I obey without complaint. He runs a finger over the background of the picture, the glistening Stark's Pond, the dark starry sky, the bright shining moon. "I worked on that for a full three days," he says softly. "I wanted to make sure everything was perfect and I had to start it all over again at least four times."
I blink in surprise, well aware of the fact that he could be lying but deep in my heart knowing he's not. There's complete honesty in his eyes and voice, which not even Cartman can feign.
"And I made sure every inch of you was perfect," he says. "I've had to study you closely to be able to make sure to draw you right. I took pictures of you in my mind, which won't leave my mental art gallery for as long as I live."
He smiles and I smile back, feeling oddly warm, although also slightly creeped out.
"Your smile was hard for me," he continues. "It took me a long time for me to see you smiling my way so I couldn't mentally capture the picture to help me draw it. I finally caught it though, that day we skipped class together and went to the basketball court. You kept missing the net so I lifted you up and you scored. That smile you gave me afterwards will remain on my mind forever. It was just so… striking. I've never seen you smile like that before. You just looked so happy."
He smiles at the memory and then at me, before looking down again.
"Your eyes were the easiest part. I've memorized what your eyes look like. I found them simple enough to draw, but they were also my favourite part to draw. They're so big and green and… they're just you. I can't really explain it. Everything behind your eyes just says who you are. They just show what you're really like. The only thing they don't tell about you is that you're a no-good Jew-rat."
He winks playfully at me, sending warm shivers down my body. He meets my eyes again and I gaze back into his.
"Your eyes are… perfect, Kahl. You're perfect," he says, his eyes shining, melting my fast-paced beating heart.
"So what does all of this mean?" I ask softly, surprised to hear my voice again after listening to only his for so long. "The drawing, I mean. If you didn't draw it for a plan, then why did you?"
He grins. "Because I wanted to be truthful to the theme of the project," he answers.
"So… what does that mean then?" I ask, smiling brightly.
He returns my smile. "The project theme was 'my life.' So what it means, my dear Jew, is that you are my life, and nothing or no one else in the world could ever mean as much to me as you do."
I feel a warm surge of electricity shoot through my veins and my heartbeat speeds up to the point where it's threatening to burst right out of my chest.
Cartman and I lock eyes again, smiling softly and genuinely, both of us feeling warmer than ever. I sigh happily and gently rest my forehead against his, our eyes close and remaining locked.
"I have never loved you more, Cartman, than at this very moment right here."
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
This ship has set sail! At long last! Woo!
Haha. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm sorry for Cartman being so OOC. It's hard to keep him in character in these kind of situations. I hope you enjoyed it anyway.
Chapter 15 is on the way soon! Review, please? xxx