I'll Follow You Into The Dark {Completed/Being Edited}

Chapter 6 | Or Tunnels To

          Stan wasn't breathing. "No, Stan! Don't die DON'T FUCKING DIE ON ME!" Kyle screamed at an unconscious Stan. 

          Kyle fell back, hopeless, lost and very frightened. Think Kyle, Think. Then he shot open his eyes, he remembered. 

♛♛♛

          It was three years ago, back when they were in the eighth grade. He remembered as he watched Stan fall onto the ground, his chest heavy, his face pale white, and ghostly looking. He reached into his pocket, and with failing hands grabbed his Asthma inhaler, taking a long puff of it. 

♛♛♛

          Kyle then remembered what he needed to do. He needed to find Stan's Asthma inhaler. Kyle quickly stood up, he did not know where he was facing, he did not know where he was going as he stepped through the darkness of his room. 

          Taking a calculated guess, he quickened his pace, walking through the dark, trying to find Stan's duffle bag. Where did Stan put his bag?  Kyle was now frantic. In the corner. 

           His quickened pace now slowed down as he gripped his fists, pain shocking up his left leg. Flames of pain licking the inside of his calf. 

          "FUCK! OW SHIT!" Kyle gritted his teeth, holding his eyes closed. The pain radiated throughout his entire leg and he bit his lip to manage the searing pain. 

          He had slammed into his desk. Using his hands, he slowly pulled himself along the wood side of the desk, leading himself towards the corner where Stan's duffle bag was. Stan always kept his Asthma Inhaler with him. 

          Kyle reached the end of the desk and in a hurrying pace, kneeled down. He reached across, blindly feeling for his black bag. He unzipped the front pocket, pulling out Stan's asthma inhaler, pulling out everything with it. 

          Kyle stood up to quickly- BAM. Kyle screamed, agonizing torture snapped his wrist back, as he stumbled standing up, attempting to ignore the very noticeable pain his body was going through. 

          Kyle felt for his desk, moving himself along until he came to the end. "Oof!" was all Kyle managed to say, as his toes bumped against something laying on the ground. He toes tripped, and as if he was in a slow motion horror movie, he fell. 

          He put out his wrists for protection, twisting his body mid-air. He should have protected his head. He landed on the floor, his head flaring, cracking, the pain screaming out at him- begging him to stop. The bed post slammed into his forehead. 

          Kyle closed his eyes, not moving. Every time he moved, his head flamed with burning pain. Stan. 

          "Stan... Stan..." Kyle whimpered, barely moving his lips. He lay lifeless on his bedroom floor, unable to move. But Stan. Kyle swallowed hard, manipulating his body, turning himself onto his stomach. 

          His head felt heavier than a bowling ball and the hammering in his brain made it hard for his to open his eyes. Kyle pulled himself with one arm across the bedroom floor. Trying to find the body of his best friend.

          This might be what it feels like to be blind. The pain rocked his head, making him want to double over and cry. Kyle worked himself, he then found Stan. Kyle layed over Stan's chest and stomach; if this wasn't a life saving moment- this would be quite awkward. He shoved the inhaler into his mouth. 

          There was no sound or movement from Stan's body. The lights turned on and he went blind for a second. Stan's face was a ghostly white.