Plastic Flowers

Change

Change was a terrible thing. When you are so used to something, or someone... and then they're gone... well, it sucks. Eric saw Kyle every day, every single day, for nearly all his life. He got so used to walking into school and throwing a joking insult at his redheaded friend, which the other responded with a bitter insult in return. He was used to seeing him at the bus stop, or running into him when he hadn't intended to. The brunette was used to talking to Kyle on the phone at least once a week, though, recently it was almost every day. It was a routine for Eric, and he was very well used to it. So, after the accident... well... it sort of made him different. He felt it only seconds after it happened, everything changed from that moment. Cartman didn't know how long he sat on the concrete, staring at the blood stain on the road, and then at the hole in the building across the street that, that car spun into. The car that hit Kyle. Everything was so fucked. 

Eric finally snapped from his trance when thunder boomed above him, and lightning lit up the now cloudy, dark sky. He hadn't noticed it started to rain, or that it was now past sunset. He didn't want to go home, no, he didn't want to do anything. The chubby teenager finally picked himself off the ground, slowly, and retrieved his bike that laid a few feet away from him. His head was swimming with thoughts as he walked home, staring at the ground. Every time lighting flashed his mind replayed that horrifying scene, and Eric flinched with a tiny whimper. Would Kyle be okay? God, what if he died? Eric started crying, thinking about it. He had cried so much today, when his initial thought this morning was how great today was going to go. How he was going to tell Kyle how much he appreciated the redhead, how much he actually loved him. He felt so stupid. He should of known that his bad luck would win, that he couldn't have a single God damned good day. 

Everything hurt... His head, his chest, his stomach, his feet, his legs.. His body felt almost like it would fall apart at any moment, like all it was, was a death trap of rusted machine parts that were nearly ready to cease function. As he stopped in front of his house, glancing up at it, he sighed heavily, and took a deep breath. His mother's- Liane's car, sat in the driveway. Oh, his mother. What would he tell his mother? Eric had no idea what he was going to tell his mother, he just put his bike away, and hesitantly stepped up to his front door. The brunette took another deep breath, running a hand through his soaked hair, before slowly opening his front door.

"You'll look for him? Oh thank you-" Liane was speaking on the phone, but turned, exhaling sharply when she saw her son. "Its alright, he's home now. Thank you though." She hung up the phone, her gaze softening when she saw Eric. The chubby teen was soaking wet, with both rain water and faded blood. "Eric! Oh my, sweetie!" Liane raced over, wrapping her arms around him tightly. "What happened? Are you hurt? You've been gone all day and... I didn't get any messages from you, I was so worried, Eric!" 

Cartman's eyes had begin filling with tears again, though his cheeks were already wet from the rain and from crying earlier. "Ah... mom... something..." He barely could speak, he was so... horrified. "Something terrible happened.." He muttered. Bad things seemed to happen to the brunette all the time, so by now Liane was used to hearing things like this. "What is it poopsikins, what happened?" She hugged her son tightly. Eric slowly explained to his mother what happened, he told her about his feelings for Kyle and about his plan. He told her how it seemed today was so perfect but... everything went wrong. How Kyle got hit by a car and how there was nothing he could do. "It's all my fault..." The brunette muttered and started sobbing hysterically. "Its all my fault! What if- what if Kahl's dead?! Oh God, what... what am I going to do?!"

Liane's heart ached hearing her son cry like this, seeing him so distraught and scared. "Honey... I don't think your friend is going to die... I'm sure everything will be fine." She pulled away from holding her son, and tilted his chin up, giving him a reassuring smile. "Please, don't cry. We'll call the hospital right now, alright?" She only could hope she was right, that Eric's friend hadn't died, that he was going to be okay. Eric nodded, sniffling. Liane told Eric to change out of his soaked clothing and clean up, and get into his night clothes while she called the hospital. The brunette nodded sadly, and slowly headed upstairs. When he took his clothes off, he stared at them, those blood stains would probably never come out... He took his time getting into his pajamas, and finally headed back downstairs. He stopped before he reached the bottom, hearing his mother on the phone.

Eric heard Liane gasp softly. "Surgery? He's in surgery?" She sounded shocked, as if she didn't expect it to be that bad. "When will he be out..?" Liane's tone seemed to drop the hope it always carried. Eric sat on the steps, covering his mouth with his hand to hold back a pained cry, as he started sobbing again. "What do you mean, you don't know if he'll make it? You're all doctors for Christ's sakes! You cant just tell me that... that you don't know if he'll-" She suddenly stopped, and sighed heavily, as she listened to the person speaking on the other end of the phone. "Yes, I understand. Thank you for your time..." She finally hung up the phone, closing her eyes for a moment and inhaling almost sharply. 

Eric knew Kyle would probably need surgery, but hearing his mother talk over the phone about this made that sick feeling come back. He finally stood from his spot on the stairs and descended down the last few steps. He approached his mother as she turned to face him. "He's in surgery, Eric. They're... not sure when he'll be out. It could be anywhere from an hour to... 8 hours... or even more..." Liane's eyes couldn't meet her son's, after all, there was barely any hope to grasp onto at this point. Eric looked away. "Okay..." He said softly, and you could almost hear his heart shattering into a million pieces. 

Liane tried to change the subject, knowing the teen shouldn't dwell on this. "What would you like for dinner, hun?" She asked softly, holding her hands behind her back, forcing a comforting smile, although she was quite sad. "Nothing... I'm not hungry.." Eric replied blandly, his hands gripping the bottom of his pajama top tightly. He was holding back tears, and was sure the waterworks would come again at any moment. Liane was about to protest about how her son needed to eat, but Eric started back towards the stairs. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight..." He muttered, and without waiting for his mother to respond, nearly sprinted up the stairs.

Halfway up, tears started falling freely from Eric's eyes once more. He was sure by now he had to of cried out every tear he could cry, but that was certainly not the case. His eyes burned so bad, it felt almost as if someone was stabbing them with hot pokers. The brunette opened his bedroom door, slamming it shut behind him without even realizing. Eric didn't make it to his bed, he collapsed on the floor, falling to his knees a few feet away from the bed. "Why do I fuck everything up?!" He leaned over, his face pressed firmly into his floor as he gripped his hair and sobbed and screamed against his carpet. At one point he started ripping out his brown hair, going from being sad to hating himself in the span of less than an hour.

Finally, it seemed rage had completely covered the depressing feelings and he swung his head up, growling at nothing really in particular. He wasn't thinking clearly, and he reached and grabbed the framed picture of him and Kyle on the nightstand, flinging it at the wall in a fit of anger. The glass shattered, pieces of it falling and hitting the carpet as he huffed loudly, nearly hyperventilating at this point. The frame had broke in half, and the slightly wrinkled photo was laying in the middle of all the broken pieces. Eric stared at it for what seemed like forever, until he remembered that his eyes burned, and he blinked furiously. He sat up, leaning back against his bed for a second, catching his breath and slowly calming down from the angry panic attack he just had. He crawled across the carpet, and reached out, grabbing the picture before returning to his spot in front of his bed. He clutched it tightly in his hands, looking at it, half-angry tears falling and rolling down the photograph. "I'm sorry Kahl..." He muttered. He brought the photo closer, pressing it against his face as he began sobbing again.

"I'm so... so, so, so, so... so sorry..."