are you mine? - a south park style fanfic

Chapter 35 - Thoughts From A Dying Dude

(timeskip back to where chapter 33 left off)

Kyle's pov:

I laid on the floor, my throat closing up, my lungs losing oxygen with every attempted breath, I finally lost it. I threw the knife as hard as I could away from my body, knowing I might accidentally use it on myself in a moment of panic, because I was panicking so bad, worse than I ever have. I held myself on the floor, wishing I had any kind of comfort at all, but like always, everyone was gone. For a second, I came to peace with the fact that I was probably going to die here, alone, struggling to breath and crying harder than I ever had. I'm such a pussy. I can't believe I let him hurt me, again. I can't believe I let someone ruin me as much as he has. I always knew it would never last, I guess I just kept holding on to that fake happy ending bullshit that I always dreamed of. I want him so bad right now. I want him to fix everything he did. I want him to fix me. But it'll never happen. He's gone. I will be too soon. I felt myself getting lightheaded as my struggles for breath didn't ease for a good few minutes, I can tell i'm running out of oxygen. I always had an idea i'd die from a panic attack, of course I couldn't just have a normal ones like everyone else, mine have always tried to fucking kill me. As everything began to fade out, and the ringing in my ears got louder than my own wheezing, I thought about Wendy, and how I wish our friendship didn't end the way it did. I always loved her so much, platonically, and romantically at times, but now she fucking hates me, and I can't look at her without thinking about Stan. And, Stan.. I don't even think I have enough breath left to finish all my thoughts about Stan. My best friend, my best mistake, my everything. It's so embarrassing still thinking about him like this when i'm the reason he's gone again. I know I should've just heard him out and understood why he did what he did, but I was tired, I was so tired of being in second place to her, I was so tired of having to watch her winning him over like she always had, I just wanted to have one time in my life where I was sure that he was mine, and only mine, but of course, it was never real. We were never real. I was just someone there for him when she wasn't. I hate myself. I hate myself for not being good enough. I hate myself for letting my emotions gets the best of me every single fucking time. I hate myself for loving him.

My skin turns cold as I let the fear leave my body. My lungs are burning and my body tingles violently. I begin to close my eyes, just wanting to get everything over with. It's over. Everything's over.