honey » david dobrik au

thirty one

tw/ violence (like..... extreme violence)

I never expected February fourth to be the worst day of my life when I woke up that morning. That's the thing about tragedies; they sneak up on you. You break up with your boyfriend, and you think your life is over, and when you finally start the healing process, someone comes along and fucks it up.

In my case, that someone was Alex Ernst.

I had known for a while that Alex had some sort of feelings for me. I wasn't an idiot. I saw how he lit up when I sat down next to him in class, and I saw his smile when I waved to him in the hallways, no matter who I was standing with. I was nice to him, and it meant something to him. He wanted to protect me. He wanted to avenge me. If it wasn't so fucking twisted, it'd almost be sweet.

I had told him, about a week before the incident, about everything that had happened. I knew I could at least sit with him at lunch. I would still be stared at, and probably even harsher with Alex, but at least I wouldn't be alone.

I explained everything, from the beginning to the tragic end. I told him just how much the whole situation with Liza and David and Ester had hurt me. He sat quietly through my whole story, but I knew he was listening. I knew he cared.

I just didn't know how much until the next Thursday.

The night before, Alex was encouraging me to skip school. I didn't think anything of it. He saw me sick on Tuesday, and he told me if I didn't rest I'd never get better. I agreed with him, and told him it was highly unlikely I'd be at school the next day.

After a larger than average dose of NyQuil and ten hours of sleep, I made a miraculous recovery... at least miraculous enough to show up to school. I wasn't sure what exactly the miracle was, because walking into Vernon Hills High School that day would absolutely ruin my life.

I had just walked into the cafeteria for lunch when a gunshot rang through the air. I heard the shot before I saw anything, but then someone dropped. Everyone else went into chaos, but I stood still, watching. I couldn't pick my feet up. My brain was screaming at me to run, but the sight before me left me trapped in place.

I had never understood the movie technique of making chaos slow motion and white noise until that moment. Everyone was screaming, I could tell, but I couldn't hear it. People were running around searching for help, calling 911, hiding, pushing, but I couldn't move a muscle.

Alex was holding the gun. He had shot Frankie Simmons and Alexis Garcia first. They were on the floor, blood spreading quickly, and not moving. They were dead, I thought. I was looking at two dead bodies. I couldn't believe my eyes.

People were pushing each other like wild animals, trying to get to the exits. It was like a mall on Black Friday, but instead of adrenaline coming from excitement, it was coming from pure fear. I had never understood the phrase "every man for himself" until I saw people who were supposed to be friends shoving each other out of the way to get to the one set of unlocked doors in the back.

Teachers were screaming, trying to get everyone to calm down. Kids were hiding under tables. Kids were beating on the bulletproof windows, trying to get out. Kids. We were just kids. The people getting shot were kids, who had barely lived their lives. Alexis Garcia was a freshman. She hadn't even been to prom yet, or driven a car, and she was gone.

I was terrifed, and yet, I stood my ground, and even started walking closer. Alex liked me. Alex trusted me. If someone could stop him, it had to be me.

Alex shot the band teacher, Mr. Graff, next. I was sure he did it because he didn't make first chair in his first concert of senior year. I wasn't sure about Alexis and Frankie, but Mr. Graff felt personal.