|
Post by souless on Oct 23, 2011 1:02:08 GMT -5
Craig wasn't sure why he was so worried about him, but, he was. "We're going to get you some fucking help..." he told him, walking up to Hells Pass hospital. He wrinkled his face at the sound of the mucus and phlegm that Kenny just spat up. "Fuckin' gross..." he muttered, stilling holding onto Kenny. "Why would you suggest whiskey to help fix this?" he asked himself, shaking his head.
|
|
|
Post by Woodstock Ricketts on Oct 23, 2011 1:26:08 GMT -5
Kenny ignored that part, "Oh, I didn't my old man did." he hesitantly, "Stupid bastard." For a moment he felt unreal when he quickly moved his gaze down to his feet. Kenny didn't understand why Craig was helping him. Let alone being nice to him, he always though Craig hated him.
For a brief moment, he bit his tongue, bringing himself out of his own thoughts. Kenny coughed harshly. Kenny hated hospitals, he hated everything about them. The docters, the blood test, the smells of the room, the cold air, the food, and dying in there, he hated that part most of all.
|
|
|
Post by souless on Oct 23, 2011 1:56:53 GMT -5
Craig sighed softly, and walked inside the hospital. He didn't like them as much as the next person, but he definitely didn't hate them as much as Kenny. "Dude, it's for the best..." he said softly, pointing to the seats in the waiting room part of the ER, and walked over to the front desk, where he got a clipboard and pen, and then went to sit with Kenny.
"I don't know what's wrong with you, dude, but it can't be good..." he stated bluntly. "When's your birthday?"
|
|