Con Te Partiro

Chapter 2


The first night at the hospital was rough. The ventilator and the beeping heart monitor made it difficult to sleep, and Kenny's thoughts would not leave him alone. He wondered about his family, how his parents were coping with having to watch him die...again. He contemplated the concept of death – thus far, he had always come back after dying, but this felt different. Would he come back this time, or was this death really going to be the end? He wondered if his friends knew yet, and whether or not they cared.

He remembered when Kyle had been sick in the hospital and how upset Stan had been over the thought of losing his best friend. At the time, Kenny had been angry that no one ever cared when he died, but now he wondered if he might have been wrong about that. After all, no one could ever anticipate his deaths – they came suddenly and without warning. He generally didn't know what they did between his death and reappearance. Occasionally in his final moments, he'd hear Stan say, “Oh my god, they killed Kenny” in a rather upset tone, followed by Kyle yelling, “you bastards!” But aside from that, he didn't know how his death affected those around him. Generally they were content pretending nothing had happened when he came back. Maybe they'd just grown used to it over the years. Besides, why worry when Kenny always returned? He pondered that for awhile, then told himself it didn't matter much. He'd find out soon anyway.

Kenny tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable, but it was hard to move around because his legs seemed to keep tangling themselves up. His body was already starting to crap out on him. He swore, then reached down with his hands and rearranged his legs until they were in a more comfortable position. He leaned back and wrapped his arms around himself, wishing he could have his bear.

When Kenny had passed out, his parents had rushed him to the hospital – there was no time to pack things like stuffed animals. His mother had promised to bring it in the morning, but that was small comfort at the moment. At eight years, Kenny was a little old for a plush toy, but he reasoned that a kid who endured as much emotional trauma on a day-to-day basis as himself deserved a comfort object. Besides which, he'd always argued, when he reached puberty, girls would go nuts over a boy sensitive enough to have kept his childhood stuffed animal, especially one as cute as his bear.

The thought made him sad. He would never reach puberty. Hell, he probably wasn't going to see his next birthday. Even if he did come back from his impending death, what guarantee did he have that he wouldn't die again the next day? Or the next? Sooner or later, he knew, he wasn't going to come back. And with Kenny's luck, it would probably be sooner rather than later.

Sighing, he reached for the call button. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep without some sort of help. When the nurse arrived, he requested a sedative and she gave it to him.

Kenny watched the silver needle slide into his arm and inject a small measure of clear liquid. Almost immediately, he felt the drug hit his system. His eyelids drooped and his tensed body began to relax. Before the nurse had disposed of the sharp, dreamless sleep had claimed him.

End Chapter 2.


Hey guys, thanks for taking the time to read my work. I appreciate the time you spend on my words. I haven't written fanfiction in a long time, so let me know how I'm doing, and be as brutal as you can. Thanks!