I sat alone in the dark, savoring the silence. It had been weeks since I’d been left alone after what happened. Everyone was always in my face now or isolating me completely.
Like I cared. If it helped them live with themselves to put me through hell because of what my best friend did then more power to them. It wouldn’t change a single goddamn thing. But none of that matters anymore…
I can’t take this anymore, and I intend to do something about it. In my lap lays a razor blade, I look at it and grasp it firmly in my hand.
It’s quite clean, gleaming as it reflects the moonlight that filters between my blinds. I run the edge along the palm of my hand… it draws blood. Perfect.
As tears gently run down my face and I begin to sob, I close my eyes. I think about what has driven me to this. I think about the events of the last few weeks. I can hear gunshots. People are falling to the ground, puddles of their thick scarlet blood tainting the gleaming white tile… there are screams… some of them beg for mercy… others sprint rapidly toward the exit. the shooter is unrelenting, walking at a slow, steady pace… she looks at them with her cold brown eyes and finishes them off.
I’m standing in front of her, my arms raised as I plead for her to end this. She levels the weapon at my face, holding it with shaking hands. She says she can’t, she’s crying now, her weapon lowered… I can hear sirens. The police are entering the school. I slowly take a step closer to her, getting blood onto my shoes.
She reacts immediately, pointing the weapon at me once more. I’m sobbing and through the tears and mucus beg her to give up and stop. She tells me to shut up, closing her eyes and firing her weapon.
Suddenly, I feel a piercing pain in my right leg and hit the ground, exclaiming in agony.I look at her, wounded but determined. I tell her that she can stop this… she must stop this… she disagrees… there’s a gunshot and I watch in horror as my best friend’s head explodes into blood and bits of skull and brain onto the hallway wall.
She falls forward onto the floor. I frantically crawl to her, turning her over as I lift her gingerly into my arms. I cradle her lifeless body, rocking back and forth. I sob into her chest, screaming her name again and again, hoping against hope for a reply. For her to get up, smile at me before our lips meet and I tell her what I never could when she was alive.
“I love you,” I whisper into her ear…
I’m silent for a short time, listening to the sirens until I suddenly begin screaming as I sob, attempting to say her name but barely managing to make it past the first syllable. Her warm blood seeps onto my skin and clothes.
Suddenly police flood the hallway weapons drawn and at the ready. They look around at all of the carnage and finally focus on me. They attempt to force me to release her. I resist, kicking, biting, and screaming her name. They roughly force me out of the building once I am restrained. I take a final glance back through the tears. Her once-beautiful brown eyes are looking directly into mine. I fall to the floor and let out a long, piercing scream.
I open my eyes and I’m in my room, covered in sweat, my body convulsing with sobs. The blood from my hand is falling onto my sheets. I run my hand down my thigh onto my leg, feeling the healing bullet wound. I place the blade against my jugular. I close my eyes one final time. I see her… she’s smiling at me, beckoning me to join her, her beautiful brown eyes captivating me.
I take a deep breath and slit my throat.
