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It's making me crazy at this point.
I mean, how many times have I had to rush over to Stan's, or some random ass area just so I can convince him not to kill himself?
Like, he's my super best friend and all, but I'm getting kinda fed up.
It's becoming an at least weekly thing.
I might as well be tossing whatever hope I had for my life, and my future, so that I can convince someone else to look forward to theirs.
And then he's not even doing that. I show him most of what his future could look like while he's trying to figure an even more obscure way to make sure he doesn't have a future.
I feel like I should be doing that. And if it turns out I don't want to, I've had enough experience in stopping them that I should be able to myself.
...
Look, the truth is, I'm only getting mad because I know that if he does leave I won't have anyone like that to replace him.
He's just so different than anyone else.
Sure, he's a fucking psycho, but it keeps me on my toes.
He's tried to run away 3 times, tried to od 5 times, taking more pills than the previous attempt, tried to drown himself once, tried to bleed out of his forearms until he flops once, tried to starve himself to death twice, tried to strangle himself so many times I can't count.
So I know what my options are.
Oh yeah, and let's not forget the numerous amounts of alcohol poisoning survivals.
It's like there's something out there that doesn't want him to die.
That is, apart from me, of course.
I don't want him to die.
I low-key kinda need him in my life, to be honest.
I don't feel complete without the weekly trip to save someone's life.
And I like Stan, I really do.
But he needs to stop.
It's not good for him, or for his family.
It's not good for me, for fucks sake.
I've not resorted to alcohol since I've seen what it's done to him, but the amount of caffeine that's entered my system since his second attempt is insane.
I mean, I have to make sure I'm awake Incase all goes to shit at 2 am.
But I hold on for unclean visions.
If he needs me, I'm at home.
My car keys sit inside my pocket.
If he loves me, he'd let me go.
But I always fear that there will be one day where I won't be there for him.
A day where I'm not in town.
A time where I'm asleep.
A time where I'm not at home.
A time where I haven't heard my phone.
A time where I'm fed up.
Which is why I was thinking....
If I take a shit ton pills or slit my wrists in the bath then if he goes then I'll be gone too.
Then neither of us will have to live with or without each other.
And we can be reborn into new souls, away from each other, so we don't have to hurt or heal each other and we won't get fed up.
And yes. Stan always sent a message to me when he attempted, so I will do the same for him.
The only reason he's ever up at this time is if he's drunk or attempting himself.
So yeah.
And I'm gonna come out and be completely dead honest.
I've been thinking about this for a while.
I have a ass truck load of pills in my bottom drawer.
So I'm practically dead and gone already.
They're pretty much all the pills I've confiscated from Stan when he's tried to od.
But I've also got like.. 3 monster ultra whites to wash them down.
I'm not completely stupid.
So I pick up my phone and open our messages.
I type something that goes similarly to:
'hey Stan dude, I'm sorry. I'm just tired and drained and fed up and it's not even your fault. I just can't be fucked with life anymore. See you on the flip side, dude.'
I tried to make it somewhat goofy so he doesn't feel all bad.
And it's not all Stan that is the reason I'm drained
It's fucking school too.
I'm normally the 'smart nerdy kid' that's always got the best grades.
But I've fucking dropped from where I've used to be.
To start with, people have started liking me a lot less for some reason.
Teachers are giving shit tons of homework that I am struggling with somehow.
So get detention for not doing them, but at least that gives me a chance to sleep which I haven't been doing much of since being up all night.
And I've been in bed any spare time a have to the point where my bed rots alongside my ass.
People have started hanging out with Stan a lot more.
And I'm not jealous, because it's nice to see him with more friends.
But that means I have almost no one to hang out with.
Sure, I have Kenny, but it's not the same
And Cartman has become a massive dick, so i try my best to ignore and avoid his fat ass.
And then back to more people disliking me.
Well, I have people trying to start arguments with me for no reason apart from the fact they think they're so goddamn self intitled just because people like them more than me.
And then I have people purposefully pelting balls at me during physical education. Both boys and girls.
And it pisses me right off.
And I can't do anything because no one will care.
It's just 'part of being a teenager' and 'most people experience it'.
But are most people me?
Is anyone me?
Is anyone me apart from me myself, or are people just trying to find excuses to not have to put up with other people shit.
I swear people don't want to discipline their shitty kids anymore, or even teach them any respect.
It gets right on my nerves.
Mabye this will teach them respect.
But knowing them, it probably won't.
I pull myself towards my drawers and tug open the bottom one over the mess on my floor. I collect the little foil trays, one by one and set them next to me as I sit up.
My monsters are on the bedside table next to me, too.
I crack one open and take a sip of the crispness of it all.
And I start popping the pills into my hand, one by one.
I stare at them, taking it in.
Taking in the fact that these could be my last moments just because of some stupid so called teenage 'hormones'.
I swear that's what people call it when they don't wanna put up with kids' shit.
I shut my eyes, take a breath and put the handful of about 10 ibroprefen into my mouth, followed with a few mouthfuls if monster.
It feels horrible, but good at the same time.
I pop more from the silver trays into my hand as I hear my phone go off.
I swallow five.
And more monster.
I look at my hands. They look like they are radiating.
My phone stops going off.
The annoying thing is, the distance between me and Stan's house is only five minutes, and I left my window open.
I would go to shut it, but I fear that I'll fall over if I even try to stand up.
More pills fall into my hand. I think they're paracetamol this time.
They go into my mouth one by one, as do the mouthfuls of monster.
I hear scraping sounds on the side of my house.
I don't check.
I look down at my crossed legs on my bed.
They move and throb in my eyesight.
I hear a banging and clambering sound at my window.
I move my head up a lot faster than it feels like to see a recognizable hat fall through my window.
The coat comes next, which has Stan in it.
The thing is, these pills make me feel somewhat free.
Weird and crazy, I know. But I like it.
Stan says something, but the words practically disintegrate upon arrival to my ears.
I look at his dishivelled face.
Then my ears pop.
I come back into focus.
"Kyle, what the fuck?" He says.
I don't know.
"What're you doing?!" He says, trying to grab the pills from me. I clench them in my fists.
I'm trying, to leave.
I turn my face away and look out of the window he came through.
I slowly place more pills into the palm of my hand. He doesn't spot this.
"Kyle, fuck- are you fucking even there?"
I don't want to be.
He tries to grab my chin to turn my face towards his.
"Kyle, talk to me!"
I can't.
If I open my mouth to do anything than insert more pills, everything will come spilling out, and I don't mean words.
I will literally be sick.
My head spins.
"Kyle, come on dude. You're not like this. People like you, they'll get upset if you kill yourself."
They really don't and really won't.
Someone clearly hasn't been paying attention to anything that involves me for the past few weeks.
I put more pills into my mouth and my fingers grip back around my monster.
I watch out if the corner of my eye as his eyes widen. I take a few more mouthfuls.
His hands rest on my shoulders
"Come on Kyle. What about- I don't fucking know- you're the top of the class, right? You have to keep that title!" He begs of me
I haven't been the top of any of my classes for almost a month now.
He hasn't noticed
He's been too busy.
He's been too busy, with other people.
"Or, what about- what about ike? He'll miss you! Right?"
My eyes start going blurry.
Ikes been really stroppy recently, always swearing at me, avoiding me at any cost.
I try to pop the rest of the pills into my hand.
"Or, fucking- you gotta one-up Cartman, right?"
He says, trying to be funny.
It. Won't. Work.
It's too late.
Cartman can twenty up me for all I care.
I just want the mental pain to fucking stop.
I empty my sweaty hand and release the pills into the back of my throat.
I chug to finish the rest of my can of my monster and swallow.
"Stan, you're not listening, God damnit it!" He wails.
I feel as my own hands grab and grip onto his forearms.
"I'll miss you, kyle! I'll fucking miss you!"
You didn't miss me when you had fucked off with Wendy and whatnot recently, and only came to me when I was the only one awake to save you from the monster inside your head.
I just want him to focus on himself more.
I get that when everything goes dark, which it is starting to do, I won't be able to watch him as he improves himself, (if he does,) but I will have to leave.
Leave everything.
Leave my body
Leave my soul
Leave my shitty ahh life.
I feel everything get lighter.
It must be obvious as my head flops and eyes get hazier.
I feel his hot arm's reach around my torso and hold it tight.
Like all ive wanted them to do for ages.
Stan can have my hat.
I still remember the day he told me my hat was the nicest one he'd ever known.
Well he can have it.
He can be the one to take it off my head, since I never did that, too afraid to get bullied for my hair.
He can have the damned hat if he wants.
Put it wherever he wants.
I feel things start to get darker.
My stomach feels both airy and like it's got a stone in at the same time.
My heart feels none existent.
So does everything else.
The feel of Stan's grip slowly fades.
The feel of his eyes on me disappears.
The feels of.. well... Everything disappears.
I disappear.
And so does everything around me.
Until it is all. Gone.
Forever.
And the my last memory is of my in stans arms.
As he cries without sound.
Watching the light in my eyes finally go.