school

march 20

The Happiest Day-- The Happiest Hour

I keep my earbuds in my ears, Vanessa asked to switch seats to the one behind me so she's rubbing my shoulders with her tiny fingers. It doesn't actually feel good, but I wouldn't tell her that. I watch as Summer raises her arm. I pull an earbud out to hear what she says.

"Yes, Summer?" Mrs. Randall asks.

"The happiest Day- the happiest hour.

my sear'd and blighted heart had known

the highest hope of pride and power

I feel hath flown.

Of power! Said I? yes! such I ween

but they have vanished long alas!

The visions of my youth have been

but let them pass!"

Summer stands up. She's so monotone. I know this must be a poem. I know for a fact that Ms. Randall was not talking about poetry, so I don't get why Summer is randomly reciting it. Ms. Randall looks very confused and so does the whole class, especially since she stood up.

"And pride? What have I know with thee?

Another brow may even inherit

the venom thou hast poured on me.

be still, my spirit!

The happiest day- the happiest hour

mine eyes shall see- have ever seen

the brightest glance at pride and power

I feel have been-"

Summer reaches into her backpack and pulls something out. At first, I have no clue what it is. I don't even see it. I assume it's a book. Punk music bursts only one of my ear drums and Vanessa stops massaging into my shoulders. Ms. Randall freezes. Someone gasps. I see it. A shiny, little gun.

"But were that hope of pride and power

now offered with the pain

even then I felt- that brightest hour

I would not live again."

She lifts the gun, to her right temple. Summer isn't shaking a bit. Ms. Randall is.

"For on it's wing was dark alloy,

and as it fluttered- fell

an essence- powerful to destroy

a soul that knew it well."

She's done. The gun remains raised to her head. No one moves. I may be crazy, but I swear I hear my classmates' heartbeats when they song ends and I pull out my earbud.

"S-Summer, honey, put the gun down," Ms. Randall stutters.

She slowly lowers the gun. She still isn't shaking.

"Everyone deserves to hear good poetry before they die," she spits out.

And shoots Ms. Randall.