Who Is That In The Mirror?
A fanfic from the slightly disturbed mind of the Californian who hates California.
Chapter 7: Side By Side
I got out of my car ran over to the still motionless Stan. I opened his door and reached for him. I gently shook his shoulder, "Stan?"
He moved a little, turning his head to face me. He had a large gash in his forehead, and blood oozed down his face. He kept his right cheek pressed against the steering wheel, "…Kyle…" When he opened his mouth, a tiny bit of blood trickled out. He looked in pain, but he smiled at me, "…what'd you do that for?…" he gave a weak laugh.
"You…you were going to turn me in…"
Stan let out another short chuckle, "…why would I do that?…"
I stared at him. My heart sank. He wasn't going to rat me out… and now… he was dying… I killed him over nothing… "Oh my God…" I said shaking my head, "Dude, you gotta hold on!"
Stan shook his head, "…I forgive you, Dude… just… promise me something…"
"…promise me, that you'll cry at my funeral…"
I already felt my eyes drowned with tears. Stan simply smiled at me and then closed his eyes, and it was over.
That pleasure was not there. That wonderfully happy feeling that I got when I had killed everyone, did not surface for one split second when I watched Stan die. An ambulance and two police cars came some five minutes after Stan had died. Officer Barbrady was the one that discovered me sitting against Stan's car crying.
"What happened?" he asked me.
"We… crashed…" I could tell Barbrady had already figured that much out. I cleared my throat and wiped away the tears from my eyes, "…It was an accident…" I had to lie. How else would I be able to go to his funeral and keep my promise to him?
Officer Barbrady simply nodded his head and helped me off the ground. The ambulance took me to the hospital to check out some minor injuries I had gotten in the crash.
I got away with the murder of my best friend. Stan had left a note at his house, saying that he was going to go kill himself at Stark's Pond that day and he also said that he was responsible for Wendy's death. Everyone assumed that I had known this, and that I was simply trying to stop him when we got into the accident. I wondered if the part about suicide was true. Or did he know what I was going to do to him, and just wrote it so that he could help me get away with his own killing? Either way I felt terrible. I didn't sleep. I didn't eat.
Stan promised that he would help me and he did. After his death, I no longer had twisted thoughts about murder. I no longer felt proud about what I had done to Butters, Cartman, Grandpa, Ike, and Wendy. I felt… guilty. I felt… sad. I felt… sane. I was a normal person like I had been just a month ago. I was Kyle again. All thanks to Stan.
Stan's funeral was that Friday. His parents, sister, and I arrived at the ceremony earlier than everyone else. All four of us cried. And although I was silent, I knew the tears stained on my cheeks for the past few days were enough for Stan. His parents didn't want an open coffin, but I longed to see Stan just one last time. When the Marsh family had left out of sight, I approached my best friend's tomb.
Slowly and carefully, I opened the coffin. Stan lied there, his hands folded neatly, dressed in the suit he was supposed to wear to the prom. My tears fell from my eyes and onto his dead body.
"I'm so sorry, Stan," I wept. I stared at him. I couldn't imagine having to leave him. I didn't want to. I couldn't. I looked around to see if anyone was around. It was clear, "Scoot over, Dude," I said as I hoisted myself into the coffin. I climbed inside, and lied next to Stan. The lid fell closed.
Inside the box with Stan, there was just a small amount of light, seeping in through the sides of the coffin. I could hear the voices of people arriving. Then I heard the priest talking. I felt the coffin being lifted and then dropped. Then I felt suspended in the air. They were lowering us into the ground. There was a thud, and I knew we were in the whole in which we would remain for eternity. I held my breathe. Thump. Thump. Thump. They were burying us. Slowly, the little light that I had had, began to disappear. I looked to the side of me at Stan. I wanted him to wake up before all the light had gone, so that he could see me there next to him, crying, like I had promised.
But his eyes remained shut and the light went away, and I slowly fell asleep, never to awake again.