Untold (warning: it's fucking trash)

Chapter One

Wednesday, December 2, 2015, the day I lost my best friend and thirty other classmates. You never think that something bad can happen. You assume that bad things only happen every so often, that they'd never happen to you. You don't really appreciate every day because you think you are promised a tomorrow. You go through every day like you wish you weren't there. You know the saying that goes "You never know what you have until it's gone." You don't understand the meaning until something traumatizing happens. 

Their names were Joseph, Matt, and Johnathan. The three together killed a total of thirty-one students and three teachers. The teachers were trying to protect some disabled students, they succeeded in keeping them safe but didn't survive. I don't know what had to have been going on in their heads to just randomly come to the small high school known as Kennedy High and kill highschoolers and teachers, but it must have been pretty mad. Joseph and Matt shot themselves, possibly out of guilt, possibly so they didn't have to go to prison. Johnathan is on the run, nobody knows where he is. 

When they got to my classroom my best friend, a few other classmates, and myself tried to stop them. A few of the jocks ran at them, they may have stopped them if they didn't have freshly loaded guns. They shot them down as fast as you could blink. Next they shot at Eli, he was my best friend, I had loved him since seventh grade. As soon as he heard those gunshots he was down on the ground and took me with him. He laid on top of me to protect me. I wish he didn't. We'd both have lived if he didn't. They shot at him again and it hit him in the head, there was a slight chance he would have lived if the paramedics got there just a little bit earlier. Right before he passed he told me to tell his family he loved them and for me to check the box that's in his closet. 

Maybe I should've tried to stop them as they turned around. I could have saved so many lives if I was just willing to take my own. I'll never forget the feeling I got when I had to tell the Holt family that their son died. Also their faces and actions. It hurt so much. I told them that Eli loved them and he'd want them to be okay, that he'd see them soon. His mom, Shelly, was the one to actually bring up the box. She'd said that he told her that if he ever passed early that box and his sweatshirts, since I loved them so much, would go to me. She told me to go upstairs and grab what I wanted because she couldn't handle being in his room, she'd lose it. She also said that I was actually welcome to stay the night, but I couldn't do that, not yet.