Whatever Happens |Kyman • Stenny • Creek|

Chapter 46: Stitches

"I've seen the future where I don't want to die; sorrow wrapped around my heart like an unwanted vine."

~Kyle's POV~

When I woke up, I found myself in a bed with doctors surrounding me. They had a small flashlight shining in each of my eyes to check if my pupils were dilating. I clenched my eyes shut from the brightness and they confirmed me to be okay.

I specifically asked the doctors to not allow any visitors. I know everyone's out here trying to get a hold of me. They were all looking at me while I was about to die on the stretcher. It's a shame that the paramedics got there before I died though. It would've been nice for them to drag my dead body into a bag while my ex-friends watched. If dead people could feel emotions, I'd be the happiest man "alive" to know my ex-friends are living their lives in regret.

Out of nowhere, we heard loud banging on the door to my room. "Kyle!? Are you in there!?" A loud male voice yelled. I couldn't tell if it was Cartman or Stan. Our voices started sounding the same once we hit puberty, so it's hard to tell now.

"I'm sorry sir. Kyle isn't accepting any visitors." My doctor told whoever was out there.

"Oh come on! Please let us talk to him! He's my boyfriend for god's sake!"

"I understand that, but he had asked me to decline all visits. I'm sure he'll give you a call if he wants to see you. But for now, he just needs some rest." The doctor said back. I heard a bunch of scoffs and sighs outside of my door. Everyone's probably here at the same time.

"Come on guys. Let's just go home. Kyle clearly doesn't want to see us." I heard Craig's voice say.

"Should we tell Kyle's parents that he's here? I'm sure they're worried." I heard Butters say.

I guess they were leaving because I didn't hear any more responses. It's flattering that they were fighting with the doctors just to see me, but I don't want to be seen right now. I probably should've just let them see me for a bit because there's that possibility that I'll be transferred and admitted to a mental hospital.

The doctors came back into my room to check on me. A nurse stood by and observed what they were doing. "Are you feeling alright Kyle?" One of them asked me. I nodded as I took a sip of the water they gave me. "Yeah, I just feel really numb right now." I answered.

"Yeah, the pain medication we gave you does have that effect. They're pretty strong." She explained.

While one of the doctors was typing on a computer in here, the other took a seat next to me. "So in a little bit, were going to transfer you over to the Mental Health Institute for evaluation." She started. I nodded because I already saw this coming. They don't just care for someone who attempts suicide and just let them go afterward. They did that in movies, but this is real life.

"I can't really tell you for sure how long you may end up staying there, but if you accept the help they offer you, I can guarantee that you'll be discharged sooner than later." She added.

"They're not going to make me take medicine or anything, are they? I don't really believe in taking "happy pills"." I questioned. My question made the doctor appear nervous, which made me nervous. They're definitely going to knock me up on pills. I believe that taking pills is good for pain relief and treating bacterial infections and whatnot, but never for treating a mental illness. Sometimes, they only make a person's mental state worse because they become too reliant on them.

"I'm not entirely sure. It's all up to them and the evaluation they perform on you."

"What do they do in an evaluation?"

The doctor scooted closer to me in her seat. "Well, they'll ask you questions. Mainly about your personal life and they'll most likely diagnose you there if they feel you have a mental illness."

This is really going to suck. I've heard of places like this. They won't even let you have your cell phone on hand. They run a metal detector all around you to check for phones, weapons, and anything else that isn't allowed inside. I need to find a way to make my phone resistant to being detected by it.

There may be a way for me to do it. I know that as long as all of the metal is covered with your hand or any part of your body, a metal detector won't be able to pick up any signs of it. Maybe if I put my phone in my sock in my shoe, it'll work. I'll have to walk lightly on that foot since I'm basically stepping on my phone as I walk, but otherwise it's bound to work. I'll accept the help they offer me, but I'm going to do it with a cellphone on my person.

A few hours had passed since the doctor talked to me. An ambulance was here and ready to transfer me to the mental hospital that wasn't too far from here. After thinking about it for a while, I realized that I shouldn't have even attempted suicide. Who knows how long it'll take for me to get out? My parents don't know about it, everyone in South Park won't even know about it. They'll just assume that I've disappeared and won't even bother to think about me.

My phone was already tucked away in my shoe. It felt a little awkward, but I don't think I'll be doing a lot of walking on the way to the hospital. I'll mainly be strapped down to the hospital bed and awaiting my arrival at the mental hospital.

People in the ambulance truck were talking to one another while I rested my eyes. The inside of the truck was pitch black with a few lights on from the machines. It was pretty dark outside already, which helped out in making it even darker in here. I couldn't even see the light from the moon shine in here.

When they rolled me into the hallway outside of the double doors that led into the mental institution, I was dead asleep. I was woken up by someone who worked in the institution. They made me stand up so they could run the metal detector around me. I stepped as hard as I could on my phone that was still tucked away in my sock in my shoe. It seemed to have been working so far.

He ran it around my upper body, and slowly trailed his way down to my legs. He didn't pick anything up, which was a shock to me. He nodded at the paramedics who rolled me in here and led me through the doors. Nice. I get to keep my phone. Thank you internet.

"Loves company, loves company; Nothing to me, nothing to me; Loves company, loves company; Nothing to me, nothing to me."

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