(A/N: WOW 40 reviews! You guys are AWESOME! Keep it up! I love you guys :) )
P.S. This is the revised version of this chapter, much better than what I had before. I hope you like it :)
Disclaimer: Still not mine.
Affliction
Chapter 7
Stan
I wake up with a splitting headache and my heart pounding hard against my chest. Every part of my body is throbbing. Today is the day. Today Kyle and I are going to the police. He's coming by my house at 7:45. Shelley usually beats me from 7:15-7:30 and I'm unconscious from 7:30-8:15. I'm just going to have to force myself to stay conscious when Kyle comes. I meant to tell Kyle to come an hour later, but I heard footsteps on the stairs and I didn't want to take a chance just in case Shelley was to overhear. I hope that I'm doing the right thing and that the police believe me. I'm ready for the abuse to stop.
I rise from my bed slowly. The world starts spinning fast from the pain. I sit back down on my bed and wait for the dizziness to pass. Once the world stops spinning I make my way to the bathroom, grabbing on anything I can reach in order to keep my balance. I'm pretty sure my foot is fractured from being thrown down the stairs yesterday. That and I'm too weak to walk on my own.
Going through my usual routine seems to take longer today. It's probably my nerves. I decide against putting on cover up or wearing my sunglasses. I'm not going to bother doctoring myself after she hurts me this morning either. It's just more proof of Shelley's abuse.
I don't say anything as I join my mother and sister at the table for breakfast. I keep my eyes lowered. My mother gasps in shock. "Stanley what happened?"
I don't even bother looking up. I know it's because of my face. After my shower, the bruises on my face stand out considerably and my black eyes are very evident. I know I look really bad. I give a nervous glance at my sister. Shelley runs a finger over her throat. I want to try one more time to tell my mother what really happened, but there's no point. She hasn't believed me for years, and she's not going to start now. "Nothing. I just got into a fight with Cartman yesterday," I fib, keeping my eyes focused on my cinnamon toast crunch.
My mother shakes her head. "How many times have I told you to not fight with people?"
I roll my eyes. "Whatever." I eat my cereal in silence. My mother grabs her purse from the kitchen table and kisses me on the forehead. "Have a good day guys," she says, kissing my sister's forehead also.
She shuts the door behind her. My hands shaking I grab my bowl and put it in the sink. I hear the garage door close. I feel my sister's presence behind me. For once I decide to defend myself. She might beat the living shit out of me for it, but at least people can't say I didn't try. The abuse is going to stop anyway. I whirl around and aim a punch at my sister.
Shelly grabs my wrist and twists it completely around. "AAAH!" I scream in agony as I feel my wrist break.
She forces my now broken wrist behind my back. "Nice try, little brother, but one measly little punch isn't going to stop me," she snarls in my ear. "That action almost caused your precious Kyle to die a very painful death. I'm going to be nice and let that slide. But that doesn't get you off the hook. I'm going to give you a beating you'll never forget."
The next thing I know I'm being dragged out of the kitchen and flung into the china cabinet. My body sears in pain as glass digs in my flesh. I try to get back up, but a chair is hit over my back, making me fall back on the ground.
Shelley grabs my bleeding form and slams it against the wall a few times. I struggle for breath. I don't bother screaming. I don't want to give her the satisfaction. She then throws me down the stairs. My head hits the cement floor so hard I almost pass out. The world is spinning in front of me. I feel like my head is cracked open.
I put up no resistance as Shelley drags me to the middle of the basement. It's getting harder and harder to breathe. I have a feeling that she's going to kill me this time. "AAAH!" I scream as the whip slices both sides of my face. While she's beating on me, I feel myself lose consciousness once again. I hope that if I wake up from this one that I will in time to go with Kyle to the police. Then my world turns black.
Kyle
My alarm goes of at 6:45 AM. I keep my eyes shut for a few moments. I had a hard time sleeping last night. All I could think about was Stan, the conversation we had last night, and the fact that I had decided before I fell asleep that I was going to tell him that I loved him. I'm 95% sure he loves me back because of the kiss he gave me yesterday, but I can't help feeling nervous. I've never confessed my feelings to anyone before. I've never felt so strongly about someone.
At 7AM I'm eating breakfast, my thoughts on Stan of course. I'm going over and over in my mind what I'm going to say to him. Stan, for the longest time I've loved-no. Stan I love you with all my heart and I'm so happy that you're going to the police with me-no. Stan we've been best friends for almost 14 years and I've just realized that I have romantic feelings for you. I want to be your boyfriend-no. Jeeze what am I going to do? I'm so not ready for this.
Just as I'm just finishing up getting ready to meet Stan. Mom knocks on my bedroom door. "You better hurry, Buhbie. You're going to be late for school."
I don't answer. I grab my backpack and leave my house. I didn't bother telling her that Stan and I are skipping school to go to the police station. She'd never understand. I leave the house at 7:30, 15 minutes earlier than I told Stan I was coming, but I figure the earlier I get there, the better.
As I walk down the sidewalk towards Stan's, a bad feeling starts consuming me everywhere. Goosebumps run up and down my arms and I know it's not because of the cold. I feel shaky. Something doesn't feel right, but I can't figure out what it is. Maybe it's because I'm nervous about telling Stan how I feel about him. Or maybe it's something else. With the bad feeling increasing, I quicken my pace, my heart pounding so hard I feel like it's going to leap out of my chest, my palms are sweating.
Ten minutes later, I ring the doorbell, my foot tapping the ground nervously. No answer. I ring the doorbell again. No answer. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. The bad feeling I have. Stan. Oh God, what if Shelley found out. Would she kill him? Luckily I know where the spare key is. I've seen Stan use it several times over the years. I reach under the welcome mat and pull out the small key.
I open the door. I drop my heavy backpack inside the house. "Stan?" I call. "What the-" I gasp.
The china cabinet is on the ground, glass everywhere. A pool of blood is on the ground as well. There is also dark red blood on the walls. Confirmation sweeps through me. Shelley found out. I hope with all my heart that Stan's still alive. Quickly I grab the phone off the wall and dial 911.
"911 what's your emergency?" a monotone voice says on the other end.
I struggle hard to keep my voice steady. "M-my best friend has been brutally attacked. 2001 Bonanza Street."
"I'll send help right away."
I hang up the phone. Now all I have to do is find out where he is. I notice the basement door is open. It looks out of the ordinary being open like that. Maybe he's down there. I rush down the stair, ignoring the wet substance that's getting on my shoes. My heart drops to my stomach because of the sight in front of me.
Blood everywhere: the floor, the walls, the stairs. Lying in the middle of the blood soaked basement, on his back is my best friend. He isn't moving. "HOLY SHIT!" I scream.
I rush over and kneel beside his body. I glance over him. His clothes are torn and covered in blood. I can tell already that he has at least three broken ribs. At least ten fresh lashes are on his chest. Glass istuck to his skin from the china cabinet. My eyes move to his face. I'm barely able to keep my breakfast down. Stan's face is heavily bruised and bloody. His nose is broken, or never fully healed. Lashes are on the sides of his face, blood running freely from the wound. His entire body is pale. He's not breathing.
Tears start to roll down my face faster than I can handle, but I don't care. I cradle Stan chilled body in my arms, not caring if I'm getting blood all over myself. This is all my fault. I should've gone to the police the SECOND I knew what was going on. I should've gone YEARS ago. I could've saved him.
Lying beside us is a long whip, stained in blood. That must be where all the lashes on him came from. Seeing Shelley's weapon of choice makes this even more real.
Suddenly an unfamiliar voice is calling from upstairs, making me snap out of my pain. "Hello? Is anyone here? This is the paramedics!"
I choke back a sob. "D-down here!"
The paramedics rush down the stairs, carrying a stretcher. One of them feels Stan's neck. "Barely has a pulse. We need to get him to the hospital NOW!"
The paramedics take Stan out of my arms, but I don't notice. The words of the paramedic ring in my head. Barely has a pulse. That means he's still alive! I get up quickly as the paramedics load Stan on the stretcher. I've got to go too. "Can I ride to the hospital with you? H-he's my best friend."
The young paramedic nods in approval. I follow them out of the house and in the ambulance. After the paramedics hook Stan up to the machines I grasp his cooled hand and hold it tight. "I'm here, Stan," I whisper, not caring if he can't hear me. The ambulance is too loud to hear anything anyway. "I'm not leaving."
We reach the hospital in no time. The paramedics rush Stan out of the ambulance. The driver tells me to wait in the waiting room. I thank him and get out of the ambulance. Before I enter the hospital, I dig in my pockets for change. I've got to call my mother and let her know where I am. I know Stan's going to be in surgery for a long time because of all he's suffered. I need some comfort and I can't reach Kenny or Butters at school. Besides I need a new set of clothes-mine are covered in blood. I pick up the payphone, enter 50 cents and dial my home number. As I listen to the phone ring, my heart races in anxiety once again. I'm so scared I can barely breathe.
"Broflovski residence," my mother chirps.
"Mom, it's me," I try to say in a normal voice. It's not working.
"Kyle what's wrong? Why aren't you at school," mom asks in a slightly angry voice.
Right now school is the furthest thing from my mind. "I'm at the hospital."
"At the hospital? What happened?" My mother's voice changes from angry to hysteria.
I can't hold it back any longer. I break down, the sobs altering my speech. "I f-found Stan half dead in his basem-ment."
My mother gasps. "Oh God. Buhbie you're father and I will be right there."
I hang up the phone and enter the hospital. I forgot to ask her for a change of clothes, but that's not important. I slump in a vacant chair, my head in my hands. As I close my eyes all I can see is the bloody basement and my marked up best friend. I don't think I'll ever sleep right again. As I'm waiting for news from the doctor, I pray with all my heart that Stan will pull through.
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