[Columbine] The Last Supper

“You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.” - Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

Dylan stared down at the bland vegetables getting cold on his plate, nudging at them with a fork that had one slightly bent tyne. He hadn't eaten anything all day, but he wasn't hungry. His stomach seemed to have vanished, and the night pressing down outside the steakhouse windows constricted his lungs and made speaking feel like a monumental effort.

What could he even say? Do you think it will hurt? 

Eric, across from him, had made more progress on his food, but not as much as usual. Eating seemed inconsequential when everything tasted like ashes. He watched Dylan, conscious of the silence between them that stretched forever. A few times, the thought crossed his mind that this didn't have to happen. They could stop it. They could not go to school tomorrow. They could throw their guns away and leave the whole thing behind them. 

But they couldn't. 

If Fate existed, and Eric was pretty sure it did, then this was theirs. The end of the line. 

"Are you--?"

"Yeah." Dylan cut him off with a breathy answer that could not hide the shake in his voice. 

"It..." Eric lost his words in the murky depths of his strangely quiet mind. His thoughts, usually so infuriatingly disorganized, were still for what felt like the first time in his life, and all of them ended with tomorrow. The concrete certainty was comforting in a way that was so unlike his parents, and so similar to dark nights spent playing Doom with Dylan laughing beside him. 

"It's going to happen," Dylan said unexpectedly, his blue gaze shifting from the sad vegetables to Eric's face, and he spoke steadily, as if wishing to clear any doubt the smaller boy might have about his commitment. 

"Yeah." Eric nodded. He took a drink of water, but it felt dry going down his throat. 

"Everyone will finally know," Dylan's words carried a rage in them that he had only ever shared with Eric, in the quiet moments that had found them throughout the years. A rage that had hid itself behind fake words on the Hitmen for Hire tapes, though it had come close to surfacing then--perhaps too close.

None of that mattered anymore. 

Eric wasn't so good at pretending, but what had anyone cared? Stuff him with drugs and put him back with the wolves. If there was anything his father had ever taught him, it was self-defense. Well, how hard must you be bitten before you punch the dog back? His fury that had so often overwhelmed those imaginary sea walls threw no waves against the shore tonight. 

Nothing mattered anymore. 

A family laughed from a nearby booth, and the grating sound carried a taunting element that made Dylan's jaw tighten. It was stupid that these people should be so happy tonight. Didn't they know that Judgement was so near? Mere hours away now. Less than a day. 

What was it to be human? Tomorrow they would be gods who walked the earth, and their reckoning would be inscribed in the history books forever. Had they always been ascended? He couldn't remember a time where it felt like he belonged on the earth. This stupid blue marble filled with zombies and cookie-cutter garbage, and Eric. The only one who understood--the only one who knew, in every sense. 

They would be lying if they said there wasn't some part of them that wanted to live. Just days ago, Eric had written in his journal that if he could get laid, he'd call the whole thing off. It sounded juvenile to most ears, but Eric knew what he had really been saying. Show me love, and I will stop this. But of course, fate has her own ideas in mind, and now here they were, not eating average steaks at a chain restaurant while the moon rose behind black clouds, and they placed one foot resolutely in front of their other on the pathway to ruin. Weren't they already ruined? 

"It'll be fast." Eric's thoughts tumbled out of his mouth before he realized he was speaking. Dylan exhaled, as if he had been holding in the anxiety that now spilled out between them. Their food sat forgotten, as they looked properly at each other for the first time that night. Both pale, both thinner than they had ever been--Dylan was starting to resemble a skeleton. 

It was decided, then. They were already dead. The only thing left was to carry out the act. 

The odd mix of restless agitation that scraped against his insides oscillated between excitement and fear as often as the minute hand on the clock above the hostess' station jumped forward. Each uninterrupted, somber tick  heralded the oncoming war, in which they would show everyone what it felt like to die, afraid and alone. Just like they deserved. For all their pretentious posturing, they were all the same inside: blind cowards; no better than one of the s****y, soggy vegetables on their plates.

"I'm not afraid," Dylan said in a low voice. Eric nodded. He wasn't afraid either. Fate called them to this, clear as day. He could almost feel the blood coating his body already, and as they rose from the table, he felt light--as if he was already a ghost.

It was strange, driving back to Dylan's place, with the knowledge that they would never see the night again. They would never have dinner with their families, and they would never play Doom. The last of The Everything, as Dylan liked to say. 

Author's Note

_{I don't care about propriety.}

Reviews

[Ren Nightshade]

This is beautiful!!! I don't usually like horror or mystery but I love a good book and this is beautiful, captivating, and way deeper than I thought it would be. When I started the chapter I didn't think I'd like it casue it didn't make much sense, but as I continued I became more and more captivated by the uncertainty and confusion that slowly grew as I read the page. Please continue to write this story because it is beautiful and awe-provoking!!! Please be my friend! (^V^)

[Shep]

Please tell me there is more, for this was way too short I want to know what happened next. I had to read three times to make sure I didn't miss anything important. Awesome write. Love the characters love the imagery and the details and especially one the characters named after me.

[Anubis]

You're in luck! Here's an easy way to find out what happened next: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Columbine_High_School_massacre

[Relic]

This is excellent writing. This looked long before I started reading but went by in a flash. My only complaint is that it is too short. Perhaps describing the actual minutes leading up to the attack would suffice. But, that's just my opinion. Very impressive.

[Anubis]

Thank you. I'll admit that I wanted to use this to work on writing emotion. It would be nice to expand in the future, however.