You Wouldn't Understand [Stan and Kyle]

Chapter 3

"Stan, what are you doing? You're opening something!" Without hesitation, he practically kicks the door open and rips the bottle out of my hands.

"But Kyle, I-" The redhead cuts my words off without hesitation.

"I don't wanna hear it, dude!" He rips the bottle of alcohol out of my hands, to which I try to grab back from him.

"Stop, I need it...!" I grimace, pulling back on it.

The redhead and I both pulled so hard that the bottle slipped from both of our hands, and fell onto the cold, hard floor. He fell forward into shattered glass, scratching basically his whole arm.

"Aghhh...!!" He screams out in pain, his arm bleeding out right in front of me.

I quickly realize it's my fault. Kyle is hurt because I couldn't resist the urge to keep the alcohol in my possession.

"Dude...," My eyes widen as his blood leaks all the way to the side of the bathtub, and I now possess an actual reason to feel sick.

"Stan, Stan, it hurts...!" He cries out, glass sticking out of his arm.

[Before anyone says anything, I would like to clarify that the glass cut through into Kyle's muscle, so he is absolutely NOT overreacting.
Thank you,
Carrie]

It cut him deeply and I know it's all my fault this happened. Kyle would be in massive amounts of pain if I tried to keep this a secret, and I wouldn't do that anyway. I'm not the asshole named Eric Cartman. I dial 911 into my phone, holding back tears.

"...Kyle?" His younger brother crawls over to him, looking at his body for a moment before he begins sobbing at the top of his lungs as well.

"911, what is your emergency?" The operator questions.

"M-My friend, Kyle... I was holding a bottle and it slipped out of my hand, and he tripped and fell onto the glass," I cannot help but to cry now. I feel so pathetic like this, and I know I only bring bad luck everywhere I go. "There's pieces of glass sticking out of his arm...," I drag Ike close to me and hide his head within my side. What kind of a friend would I be if I let him witness that for a long period of time?

"Stan...," The redhead cries out in pain, his body curling in on itself. I can tell he's hurting terribly right now, and it's all my fault.

"...Okay, we are on our way right now. Keep on talking to your friend and make sure he doesn't pass out for us, please," The operator hangs up, and I hold Kyle close to my body while crying. "I knew there was a reason on why I shouldn't have been seeing you, dude...! And it's this," My eyelids drop as I hold him close to me, caring less if the glass shards scratch against my body.

"...Stan," Kyle whispers underneath his breath, shakily raising a hand to the side of my cheek. "Stop drinking, Stan... It's... Hurting you...," His hand drops from mine and his eyelids close all the way.

My tears fall onto his face as I hold his hand tightly, wishing he could have heard three simple words come out of my mouth. I'm not going to say them right now because I only want to say them when Kyle can hear.

The sound of sirens and the flashing of blue and red lights caught my attention. I held Kyle's body in my arms as I ran towards the door, his blood running down onto my body.

The paramedics arrived and took the redhead away from me, setting him on a stretcher while I watched it all happen. I was stuck standing at the door, holding Ike's hand tightly in my own while he cried.

"Kyle...!" He sobbed, trying to get to Kyle as quickly as he could.

The police stood right in front of me and were asking me questions, but I heard nothing that they were saying.

The frigid air did not phase me.

All of the dirty looks from what felt like just about every family in the neighborhood did not phase me.

The smell of my super best friend's blood, splattered all over my shirt, did not phase me.

Expect it did.

But what truly phased me the most was the fact that fate brought Kyle and I together again for a reason. I don't know what else that reason would be expect for me to absolutely wreck his life as well. I'm not only hurting myself anymore with my addiction, but someone I care about a lot as well. I suppose life is just against me right now.

The police continue to look at me before they get angry, not playing nice anymore.

"I'm sick of asking you this! What the hell happened?!" The policeman barks at me, and I stare at him with clouded over blue eyes.

"He was trying to take a bottle away from me, and I accidentally dropped it," I whispered, pulling my beanie down on my head.

"So it's your fault this happened, huh?" He sets his hands on his hips, but I ignore him. I'm not going to give respect to an adult who treats me like I'm much more below him.

"...Let me see Kyle, please," I hold Ike tightly to my side, but he continues to cry. I know it's my fault. Everything is my fault because I ruined my life by plauging it with alcohol.

"Sorry, but we cannot let you see him yet. We have to ask you questions," I sigh, taking a seat on the Broflovski's outdoor bench.

"I already told you everything that happened! Do I have to say anything more?" I cross my arms, a policewoman trying to make Ike feel better. She hands him a lollipop. I wish sugar could make me feel better that easily.

"Hm... Whatever. Well, it's obvious you don't live here so tell me where your house is. We're going to take you back home," He folds his arms as well, as if trying to tell me that he is superior yet again.

"...," I shift my eyes back to Ike and I shake my head. "Gerald and Sheila Broflovski are out of town right now. I can't leave Ike all by himself," I shake my head.

"...Ugh, fine. But when they get back, expect yourself to be in a lot of trouble, young man!" The police take a picture of the inside of the bathroom and clean up the mess that happened.

Shit... They know that it was alcohol now. But I don't think anyone really cares down in this stupid town. I take Ike to Kyle's bedroom, and we both sit down on his bed without a word.

It was like that until about half an hour later, up until then the two of us didn't move an inch, as if we were statues.

"...Stan?" He questions, staring at me.

"Yeah, buddy?" I turn my head towards him.

"Is Kyle going to be okay?" He questions.

"I... I don't know," I mutter underneath my breath.