The Unexpected Wrong Side

Chapter 2- Uncontrollable Monster

It was a part of the unknown side Kyle hadn't ever experienced by himself.

This side of him...was odd.

Kyle sort of fed off the relief, the way an animal desperately needs food, or when a person desperately needs pills or some kind of medication to feel better or to help with a disease or disorder.

Some small part involved was kind of like the way people need attention to feel better about themselves.

Kyle didn't want attention, though he needed it unknowingly.

The scary but very truthful part was that it was uncontrollable for Kyle.

Push him off! What the hell are you doing? A voice echoed harshly through Kyle's ears...no not his ears...his head.

It wasn't an actual human being who had spoken in a harsh voice.

Maybe it was as simple as a voice in his head.

Sure, yeah, just a voice in his head. We all get those right? Yeah!

Kyle listened and pushed Stan back off of him. This of course confused Stan.

"You pushed me off, pulled me back in, then pushed me off...what's the problem?" Stan asked the redheaded boy.

Kyle didn't exactly know what had been going on with him.

His feelings and emotions had been all over the place lately, reason unknown.

His parents had been questioning him a lot, asking if he was alright or if he wasn't feeling well.

Kyle felt fine.

What the issue became of itself was something dark, very invisible at times. Other than those times where it was invisible, 2 words...crystal clear.

The times of the issue being crystal clear hadn't come up lately.

When Kyle was younger, he was just as sensitive and easily angered as he was today.

His mother thought he needed anger management. That could've been true but it wasn't as bad as some kids Kyle had seen get mad.

He never saw himself as a boy who needed anger management classes.

He wasn't one of those boys who smashed his parents TV because they said he couldn't play on his game console for the rest of the night.

No, that just wasn't who he was.

But the day he found out that Stan had moved, he ran into his house after school, locked his bedroom door and let his fist bash through a portion of the little wall that his door covered whenever he left it opened. The hole was the size of his fist of course.

Sheila Broflovski drove him to urgent care that night to get his hand looked at.

Long story short, it was fractured.

That answered the question Stan had wanted to ask Kyle since he saw him at the bus stop.

His right hand was wrapped in a white bandage.

He could move it somewhat, but no lifting or carrying anything heavy for 7-9 weeks, doc's orders.

Sheila wasn't exactly excited about the hole in Kyle's bedroom wall.

She of course had to ask why on earth would he put a hole in his wall for.

He came up with this, he was really stressed out over the unit exam coming up in Earth Science and the stress got the better of him.

Not the best lie but it was what he had come up with in that moment.

Although Sheila said she believed her son, that was not at all true.

She didn't want to argue with him, she wasn't up for it and neither was Kyle.

Here he was, in front of Stan, eyes at the floor, being expected to give an answer to the question asked.

"Why ask a person a question they don't know the answer too?" Kyle finally answered.

This state of unknowing a problem was wrestling Stan's brain.

Throwing his thoughts side to side and back and forth.

His brain wasn't winning the beat down;
same thing was happening over in Kyle's brain.

Different beat-downs were in progress.

Kyle was kind of just letting this monster fuck with his brain, and he couldn't stop it.

"Where have you been? Like emotionally." Stan asked.

"Somewhere dark and painful." Kyle didn't mean to be so truthful with his answer, but it kind of just came out.

That monster pushed those words up through his vocal cord and off they went out of his mouth.

"Me too," Stan agreed, "Talk to me."

"I don't think that's gonna help me." Kyle crossed his arms. A chill ran up one arm and down the other.

Those 7 words just spoken were untrue.

Talking to Stan was the only way he could defeat this monster that had been wrecking his body lately.

The words he was able to say and the way he said them, it always calmed Kyle down or made him feel better about the situation.

At this point, Stan was Kyle's only way of help and recovery.

"Bullshit, I know when you're lying and those words are exactly that. If you talk to me I'll talk to you." Stan tried to compromise.

Something inside let Kyle get up, "Fine, but not here."

"Then let's ditch and go to my place." Stan said. Kyle nodded.

After grabbing their backpacks, they made their way out the back locker room door with a big "EXIT" sign above it glowing bright red.

Stan's car was in the back parking lot, which was closest to the door they came out of so they didn't have to walk far.

The boys got into Stan's black car side by side.

Stan in the driver's seat and Kyle in the passenger's.

The drive was silent.

Kyle reached over and put his hand on Stan's thigh.

Stan took this by surprise but continued to drive the rest of the way to his house.

The arrival came quickly.

Stan was pretty fast behind the wheel at times. Stan and Kyle picked up their bags from the backseat.

Once inside the house, they made their way up to Stan's bedroom.

The 2 backpacks got tossed on the floor near the queen sized bed with a gray comforter over the gray sheets.

The plain black pillowcases covered the 2 pillows at the head of the bed. The black color of the pillows matched the black plaid lines over the gray comforter.

Okay, so now they had to figure out one big question, who was going first?