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A Chapter by Sam
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It was just a regular school day...and the entire world turned upside down.

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                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                The noises are so loud and jarring that they make the entire library feel like it’s shifting.

                “What’s that noise?” I ask my friend Jessie.

                BANG!

                Jessie scoffs, “Annabelle, the wrestling team probably just lost their match to the other high school.”

                BANG!

                “As if!” I laugh.

                It is Thursday at around 12:03 pm, and Jessie and I decide to spend our lunchtime working on a history project in the library. My boyfriend, Paul, is the other member of our group and he is nowhere to be seen.

                BANG!

                This is unusual, as he never ditched school. Not even when he was sick. He didn’t even ditch on Senior Skip Day.

                BANG!

                BANG!

                I pick up my iPhone and stare at its lock screen. It displays a picture of us together at the prom just one month ago. My dress was greener than grass, encrusted with emeralds and stretched all the way down to my toes. My strawberry blonde hair stood confident in a tight bun with luscious braids wrapped around it. Paul stood six inches taller than I did, making his legs lanky and awkward, but his awkwardness made him adorable. He wore a matching suit and tie, as did most prom couples, but the one thing that didn’t quite match were our facial expressions. Despite having looked at this picture a thousand times, I realize that while I was beaming with happiness and delight, he looked as if he were hiding something. He didn’t look happy. He didn’t look like him.

                BANG!

                I scroll through our messages, only to find that he had not even glanced at them in two days.

                BANG!

                A dozen kids begin to recognize the recurring noises and run to the peculiar window in a confusing panic.

                BANG!

                Every time there is one noise, there is another that is louder.

                BANG!

                We hear people scream.

                BANG!

                A beloved science teacher, Mrs. Patterson, sprints into the room.

                BANG!

                “Everyone! Get under the tables!” she shouts.

                BANG!

                The students hesitate.

                BANG!

                I observe Mrs. Patterson’s appearance. Her normally beautiful face is almost unrecognizable with all of the marks, blood, tears and sweat that are covering it. Her entire body is so vigorously shaky to the point where it takes her almost a minute to pull her cell phone out of her pocket.

                BANG!

                BANG!

                “What are you doing? Get under the tables!” she repeats louder.

                BANG!

                With many students being confused, they sit down in a sluggish fashion. Jessie sits next to me with her makeup streaming down her face and fingers trembling.

                BANG!

                BANG!

                The screams are getting louder by the minute.

                BANG!

                “What’s happening?” she asks with watering eyes.

                BANG!

                “Shhh…” I reassure her, “I don’t know, but I’m sure that everything will be ok.”

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                Faint laughter is becoming more and more distinct.

                BANG!

                BANG!

                A man wearing all black approaches the library door.

                Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. F**k. F**k. F**k. F**k. F**k.

                “Hello fuckers!” the voice shouts.

                I immediately recognize the voice.

                I look up, and I see him point his gun at the first kid in his way. His name is Jaxon Turner. He is the only one not hiding under a desk, most likely because he is in Special Ed classes.

                “F*****g retard!”

                BANG!

                “Who’s ready to die?” he says enthusiastically.

                Not me. Nope. Nope. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

                For the first time in the past fifteen minutes, there is utter silence.

                “Well, guess what!” he shouts. “You’re all gonna die anyway! Boo f*****g who! Now shut the f**k up!”

                He starts moving from desk to desk.

                We’re just hoping that someone stops him before he comes to us in the back.

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                I want to see my mom.

                BANG!

                BANG!

                Lord, please save me…

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                I just want this madness to be over….

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                “What’s this we have here? A f*****g tranny?”

                I look over and see him dragging a woman by her feet. She is wearing a white blouse and loose jeans that he begins to unzip.

                “No, no, no, no…” the woman whimpers.

                In the shooter’s hand is the woman’s penis.

                BANG!

                Her penis is blown off.

                “F*****g disgusting.” the shooter mutters.

                BANG!

                And so is her head.

                He proceeds to other students.

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG! 

                “Annabelle,” Jessie cries. “if anything happens to one or both of us…I just want to let you know that you are my best friend…thank you for doing everything for me…I love you so much…”

                A single tear rolls down my cheek.

                BANG!

                “I love you too, Jessie…we’re going to get through this together.”

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                The shooter laughs, “Ah, would you look at that? If it isn’t the famous John Harrison! John, for many years, you and the rest of the football team called me a loser…”

                BANG!

                BANG!

                “Well, who’s the f*****g loser now!?” he yells.

                He walks to other desks.

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                He stops at one of them and carefully peeks behind the desk.

                “N*****s like you should be placed back in the cotton fields and lynched, but today, you’re getting shot.”

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                He walks closer and closer.

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                He stops at one desk and sees a girl praying.

                “Do you wanna die?” he asks.

                She pleads for her life.

                “Too bad! Everyone’s gonna f*****g die! That’s life! Suck it up!” he shouts.

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                He walks over to more desks.

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                He is three desks away from mine.

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                He is two desks away from mine.

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                He is one desk away from mine.

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                BANG!

                He kneels down without even looking at me and points his gun at Jessie’s head.

                Unable to stand up quickly, I defensively jerk my left foot in front of his gun right before he fires a shot.

                BANG!

                Pieces of my foot lay on the ground as Jessie remains unharmed. The pain is unbearable.

                The man looks over at me.

                It’s Paul.

                “Paul….why?” I scream.

                He looks at me in horror, realizing what he had just done. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, Annabelle, Annabelle, Annabelle! I am so sorry…”

                “F**k you!” I shout. “I hate you!”

                “I love you…” he replies.

                “F**k that! Get the f**k away from me, get the f**k out of this room!” I scream.

                He kneels down and begins to pucker his lips towards my face. As he is coming closer and closer to my face, I have an urge to reflect his affection, but I let him kiss me in fear that he would shoot me if I dare to defend myself.

                “Now leave me alone, you f*****g monster! I don’t love you! Not anymore! Why the f**k are you doing this?” I shout.

                “Because I have to!” he screams back. “I will be right back. I’ve got some jocks in the gym to kill now.”

                “No!” I scream. “No! No! No! No! No!”

                As he walks further and further away, my screams don’t stick out anymore. They blend with everyone else’s. And he doesn’t notice.

                Once he shuts the door behind him, Mrs. Patterson (who successfully hid behind the counter the entire time), Jessie, and a random boy that I don’t know rush over to me. The last thing that I remember before falling out of consciousness is them picking me up and taking me through the back entrance.

                A few hours later, I wake up in a hospital and the first thing that I see are dozens of cameras surrounding every inch of my space.

                A young, blonde woman in a black dress notices that I am awake, hands her microphone to me and asks, “Annabelle, how do you feel about your boyfriend Paul who died?”

                “…Died?” I ask, before falling back into an unconscious state.

               



© 2017 Sam


Author's Note

Sam
Hi! This is the first chapter of my novel and I'm not looking for critiques on any specific issues, so just critique me on anything that you think I could improve upon. I'll take any criticism and feedback, just as long as it's honest! Thank you very much for taking the time to read and critique my piece!

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182 Views
Added on March 6, 2017
Last Updated on March 6, 2017
Tags: schizophrenia, mental illness, depression, eating disorders, suicide, homicide, murder, death, shooting, school, teen, young adult, fiction, gun


Author

Sam
Sam

Philadelphia, PA



About
16 year old writer. I love dank memes, politics, philosophy, conspiracy theories, computer science/security, arts (specifically abstract and pop art watercolor portraits) , history, documentaries, deb.. more..

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