South Park: Life Without Stan

Chapter 2

I woke up. Where am I;? What did I do? I looked at my arm; Bloody cuts, all of the blood, dried up and black. I looked to my side and no one was there. Alone. I looked around. Am I in a hospital? Then I remembered: Stan. My best friend. Well, was my best friend. He saved my life, and I couldn't save his. I looked at what room I was in; Room 202. The room that I was in when Stan saved my life. Saved it, but I couldn't save his. The thing is, my life was probably harder to save. I was sick and dieing, and Stan was murdered. I could've just went to Stan's house and slept over. I highly doubt that she would kill Stan if I was over. Or she would kill us both. Both of us. Dead. Together. Dead. Stan had to trick Cartman and do all of this other shit. All I had to do was sleep over. As simple as that, and now he's dead. We could've died together, I wouldn't mind that. Dead. Together. Dead. Together. Together. Forever. Nothing could tear us apart. If were both dead, but how. I looked around; nothing. Now what? Should I sit here? Should I think more? Should I call someone. I waited and waited for Stan. I know he won't come, but I still waited. I sat their, waiting. Stan. Will. Never. Come. All these words circling. Nothing to do about it. When my parents came, I pretended to sleep. Dream about Stan. If he was alive. If Stan was alive. None of this would happen. No cutting, no dreaming, nothing. I would probably be playing with him. Having fun. Maybe he would save my life again, maybe I would save his, or maybe he would end up dieing. Again. Nothing would've changed then. No, I wouldn't let that happen. Stan the Lifesaver. Kyle the Bastard. The dumb lazy fucking bastard. Yeah, so. Who cares? I do. I care, and I want my best friend back. I started to yell. "BRING HIM BACK TO ME!!! DO YOU HERE ME?! GIVE ME STAN!!!"