no. Oh no! This isn't supposed to
be happening!
My hands started to tremble as I began to
lose my nerve. I strolled quickly over to Thomas Walt's dead body.
How did I miss JJ? How did this happen?
Mike began to cry hard child-like tears as I
peered at the body. His lips quivering uncontrollably as his bugged
out eyes took in the gory scene in front of his face.
“Why'd you push him, Man? Why?” he whimpered
hysterically, hugging his knees close to his now shaking body as he
stared past me. I turned my head, following his gaze.
JJ's usual calm arrogant face turned a
powdery white as Mike pointed an accusatory finger in his
direction. He began shaking his head back and forth in exaggerated
disagreement. Mike's fat finger kept steadily aimed at JJ as I
walked closer.
“You saying JJ pushed him?”
His incessant bawling grew louder and louder,
tears now mixing with snot as he cried nodding his head. Anger and
overwhelming fury spilled over deep inside my heart as my hatred
for JJ grew to unholy proportions. Mike's pathetic groveling only
pushed me farther over the edge. Hard to imagine this piece of shit
sobbing at my feet was an unsympathetic monster only days before.
He had been in on it too, after all.
My heart ached for poor Thomas. He didn't
deserve this. I swallowed hard, trying desperately to accept the
gravity of my actions, sure that I was going straight to Hell for
this one. Yet, it was so easy for me to pull the trigger. A slight
flick of the finger and it was lights out, Gracie. Screams grew
immensely all around me, so loud I nearly went deaf. I ignored
them, ignored Thomas, ignored Mike's wretched weeping just as they
had all ignored me. Their pain meant nothing to me now.
Bang! Bang!
I shot Mike twice in the chest. The first one
made a minute almost perfect cylindrical hole in the front of his
neon green shirt just above the giant toilet declaring, “Life's a
potty.” The second shot, not so pretty, had ripped the flesh from
his heaving sobbing body. Splatters of red oozing blood clung to
the wall behind him mixing with fragments of his shirt giving the
smooth walls of the cafeteria a Jackson Pollack like appearance of
scarlet and green. A choking gurgle escaped his throat as his heart
beat for the last time, a slim red river flowing slowly down the
side of his mouth as he toppled to the floor. A still, crumpled
slump was all that was now left of JJ's second in command.
Gazing around I watched as my classmates, my
“peers”, my “equals”, all ran down the panic stricken hallways
trying desperately to escape me. Intensity overcame me, and my
heart beat out of control. My eyes blurred, my stomach lurched, my
head whirled like a merry-go-round. My head kept spinning and
spinning and spinning. I fought off the wave of nausea and fear
creeping up my spine.
My head slowly stopped. I turned around.
A large figure suddenly enveloped my vision.
It was John. Horrified and scared as all the rest of the lackeys.
His eyes were blood-shot and fearful. Their blue tint almost fading
completely.
A brief moment of nostalgia washed across my
soul. His eyes begged me to stop. I lowered the gun, letting it
hang limp in my hand, dangling vulnerably at my side. I stared back
into his pale
terrified face, seeing nothing but shameful,
apologetic fear. The same fear I had felt every day of my life
growing up because of people like JJ. The same hurtful guilt ridden
fear that had kept me prisoner for so long. John, of all people,
knew this fear just as much as I had. Not only knew it, but
understood it.
John dropped to his knees heavily in front of
me, head down. He wasn't going to stop me.
A soft warm hand gently touched my shoulder
from behind, calming my nerves, bringing me back from the past.
“It's almost over, Harvey.”
32
I have always found it quite ironic how
people used to tell me to move on, get over it, deal with it. Yeah,
I dealt with it in the end. I made them see. Made them all see
be happening!
My hands started to tremble as I began to
lose my nerve. I strolled quickly over to Thomas Walt's dead body.
How did I miss JJ? How did this happen?
Mike began to cry hard child-like tears as I
peered at the body. His lips quivering uncontrollably as his bugged
out eyes took in the gory scene in front of his face.
“Why'd you push him, Man? Why?” he whimpered
hysterically, hugging his knees close to his now shaking body as he
stared past me. I turned my head, following his gaze.
JJ's usual calm arrogant face turned a
powdery white as Mike pointed an accusatory finger in his
direction. He began shaking his head back and forth in exaggerated
disagreement. Mike's fat finger kept steadily aimed at JJ as I
walked closer.
“You saying JJ pushed him?”
His incessant bawling grew louder and louder,
tears now mixing with snot as he cried nodding his head. Anger and
overwhelming fury spilled over deep inside my heart as my hatred
for JJ grew to unholy proportions. Mike's pathetic groveling only
pushed me farther over the edge. Hard to imagine this piece of shit
sobbing at my feet was an unsympathetic monster only days before.
He had been in on it too, after all.
My heart ached for poor Thomas. He didn't
deserve this. I swallowed hard, trying desperately to accept the
gravity of my actions, sure that I was going straight to Hell for
this one. Yet, it was so easy for me to pull the trigger. A slight
flick of the finger and it was lights out, Gracie. Screams grew
immensely all around me, so loud I nearly went deaf. I ignored
them, ignored Thomas, ignored Mike's wretched weeping just as they
had all ignored me. Their pain meant nothing to me now.
Bang! Bang!
I shot Mike twice in the chest. The first one
made a minute almost perfect cylindrical hole in the front of his
neon green shirt just above the giant toilet declaring, “Life's a
potty.” The second shot, not so pretty, had ripped the flesh from
his heaving sobbing body. Splatters of red oozing blood clung to
the wall behind him mixing with fragments of his shirt giving the
smooth walls of the cafeteria a Jackson Pollack like appearance of
scarlet and green. A choking gurgle escaped his throat as his heart
beat for the last time, a slim red river flowing slowly down the
side of his mouth as he toppled to the floor. A still, crumpled
slump was all that was now left of JJ's second in command.
Gazing around I watched as my classmates, my
“peers”, my “equals”, all ran down the panic stricken hallways
trying desperately to escape me. Intensity overcame me, and my
heart beat out of control. My eyes blurred, my stomach lurched, my
head whirled like a merry-go-round. My head kept spinning and
spinning and spinning. I fought off the wave of nausea and fear
creeping up my spine.
My head slowly stopped. I turned around.
A large figure suddenly enveloped my vision.
It was John. Horrified and scared as all the rest of the lackeys.
His eyes were blood-shot and fearful. Their blue tint almost fading
completely.
A brief moment of nostalgia washed across my
soul. His eyes begged me to stop. I lowered the gun, letting it
hang limp in my hand, dangling vulnerably at my side. I stared back
into his pale
terrified face, seeing nothing but shameful,
apologetic fear. The same fear I had felt every day of my life
growing up because of people like JJ. The same hurtful guilt ridden
fear that had kept me prisoner for so long. John, of all people,
knew this fear just as much as I had. Not only knew it, but
understood it.
John dropped to his knees heavily in front of
me, head down. He wasn't going to stop me.
A soft warm hand gently touched my shoulder
from behind, calming my nerves, bringing me back from the past.
“It's almost over, Harvey.”
32
I have always found it quite ironic how
people used to tell me to move on, get over it, deal with it. Yeah,
I dealt with it in the end. I made them see. Made them all see
Similar Books
