Broken

Broken Chapter 29

----------------OLIVIA POV--------------

Mason had fixed up the old, cracked, and dusty tv in the storage room. We sat, watching the news. Normally, the shooting is on the news, so we expected some sort of story. But we never could've prepared ourselves for this segment. The pretty blonde woman appeared in her suit, microphone in hand.

"Today we have a one of a kind story."

"We found 3 survivors from the Wickliffe crash and fire.....and shooting."

The lady stopped. As if to have a moment of silence for the shooting. She looked woebegone.

"These 3 people where in a state of horrible pain and were in completely unstable condition. None of them had actually been shot." "I know you're all sitting desperately at your screens, praying that your loved one was found. We won't delay the wait any longer. The first survivor we found was Brennan Malaney. He suffered from severe burns and has a severe concussion. He has many broken bones and lung problems. Doctors say they will be able to help revive him and put him into physical therapy. They say he will be ok in 5-7 years. "

It was at this point that I couldn't take it. I was happy but miserable at the news. Brennan was alive! But he was in horrible condition. I spent the next couple minutes in such shock that I missed the second name. Mason told me it was an eighth grader we didn't know. From a different school. I tuned back in, still emotionally trampled.

"-last person we found was Jaina Buttari. She has brain trauma and a few broken bones. She lost 2 fingers and has severe burns. Doctors are unsure of her recovery. They say she has up to 8 months to live."
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Mason clicked off the tv. He started bawling. I don't know why. He was smiling too.
"She's- she's alive." Was all mason could say. I guessed it was someone close to him. I felt happy. I don't know what I felt. My mind went to Michaela. How could Brennan live without her? Tears sprang to my eyes that I easily wiped away.

"Hey," mason said, still crying "when is Jon letting us out? I have to see her."

That reminded me of the call. "Oh yeah, he called me. We have to share out stories about the shooting."

"Oh. Weird. Ill go first, as I just want to get it over with so we can leave."Mason said, clearing his throat.

I nodded in agreement.

Then he told me his story. He told me of how it was going to be the night where he was going to ask his crush out. About how he heard the gunshots and the training. About how he never told anyone. He started silently crying midway through. So did I. I hated everything about this. About the shooting. About all the deaths. I was crying hard now.

Mason looked at me unsurely. "Your turn." he said anxiously. I guess he wanted to hear about the real true story. In my flesh and blood. So I told him.

I told him about it from the beginning. I talked using detail. I was so lost in the story. I told him about how Jarred had used me to get in and about how I had let him. I told him about Chris being shot and running into the closet and making the plan. Also about being alone in the room with jarred and then Michaela and Brennan came and Christina betraying us and the bomb and the window and the fire. I told him about the hospital and the news story. I felt like I poured my soul into his. I talked on and on. And he listened. Nodded at all the right times. Cried at all the right times. This was our story, the sadness of it all.

Not 5 minutes after we had finished, the door opened and Jon was standing there. "That was beautiful. " was all he said as Mason and I walked out. I walked outside and was suddenly sad to see Mason go. I waved and I walked home, feeling empty. I kept thinking of how many people I had killed by letting Jarred in. Some small, tiny voice in the back of my head kept telling me it wasn't my fault. That he would've found someone else. But that voice was drowned out by the screaming voice that was saying if it weren't for me, 20o more people would be alive. Families wouldn't be mourning. That voice made me hate myself. That voice was the reason I has come into my house and collapsed on my floor, a mess of tears.