Applause for the Victim

This is a short story about a substitute teacher that finds himself at the mercy of one of the students.

“You’ve gotta be a queer with a haircut like that,” one of the buff guys in the back of the class laughed and pointed at the scrawny tenth grader sitting at the center of the classroom. The entire class suddenly burst into laughter. Children were so cruel. I finished writing “r” in “Mr. Clover” and then directed my attention towards the boy in the back of the room making fun of the bowl cut kid. I couldn’t recall his name at the time. I gave him one of my adult glares that I was often giving as a child to make me obey. He immediately stopped laughing and put his head on his desk to avoid further eye contact with me. The kid with the bowl cut stood up,

“Come here and say that.” I was surprised at his bravery. The other boy was clearly bigger than he was and looked like he could break him in two across his knee with minimal effort. The boy in the back of the classroom lifted up his head. All the kids in the classroom turned to him to see what his reaction would be. I quickly interrupted,

“Now um… boy,” I couldn’t remember the bowl cut kid’s name again, “Settle down and take a seat.” I walked to the front of the class from behind Ms. Howard’s desk. The kid was quiet but he was still standing in the middle of the room of about fourteen other kids. Edward was his name. He stared at me with beady dark brown eyes, his face looked really pale, like he was sick. He was a short scrawny tenth grader. It was weird how he was just staring not saying anything. I bent forward to get closer to his height. I looked him in the eyes and although he was looking at my eyes, I felt like he was staring through me. I repeated myself: “Take a seat.” I stood up right and turned to go back to the desk.

                “I’m not going to take any s**t-” I heard a clicking sound, “from any one of you anymore,” Edward mumbled to the floor. The whole class gasped and I heard some desks scrub the floor as some of the students moved away from the center of the room. I turned around quickly to Edward pointing a small silver gun at me, glistening in the sunlight. I wasn’t sure what kind of gun it was. A pressure developed in the lower part of my stomach and I felt like I needed to s**t right then. Before I could open my mouth to say anything or try to run, he pulled the trigger. There was a flash from the gun and the loudest popping noise I had ever heard in my life.

                With a myoclonic jerk, I was awake. The aroma of gun smoke brushed across my nose. I heard two girls screaming in the back of the class room and several pairs of shoes running down the hall in the distance. It sounded like some of the students were able to escape. One kid started to plea: “Dude, I hadn’t done nothing. You can just let me go. I’ve never made fun or you or anything like that.” With every word the pitch of his voice got higher. I opened my eyes. I could see the legs of Ms. Howard’s desk and the legs of the chair behind the desk. I was lying on the ground in front of the class room on my stomach with my head turned away from everyone. I could feel warmth and wet from a stinging pain in my chest. I knew I had been shot. I was just glad I was still alive.  

“Shut up,” Edward shouted. The two girls continued to scream and was now turning into cries but the pleading boy was silent. I heard his footsteps walk quickly behind my head towards the door. He locked it. “There goes my plan to gun it,” I thought. “Everyone against the wall,” he demanded. I could hear the students getting out of their seats, some of them scrambling and falling on the floor to get to the back wall. The vibration of shoes and the scrubbing of desk against the floor made my ear against the floor itch but I wouldn’t dare scratch it.

As laid of the floor, my breathing began to get shallower and I found myself taking deeper breaths to compensate for the shorter ones. I tried to make sure I was as quiet and as invisible as possible. Before long, someone should be contacting the authorities, I just had to live long enough to get medical help.

The two girls, now in the back of the class room, were still crying. I could hear Edward walking away from the door and towards the small group of what was left. I imagined it was probably about eight to ten students still in the room. I imagined them all bundled up in a tight group trying to avoid being the target of Edward. “I said shut up,” Edward snarled through gritted teeth. The sound of the gun going off resounded through the class room and seemed to have echoed a hundred times in my ears. I tried not to jump. The class room was completely silent. I heard someone fall to the floor and another boy began to whimper. “Anybody else wanna cry?” Edward asked. The room was completely silence.  

A high pitched buzzer noise echoed through the classroom and a flashing light rotated around the walls. Someone had pulled the fire alarm. In the hall, I could hear students by the herd leaving the building. A cold liquid chill embraced my face as blood from my chest pooled around my head. I was surprised I was bleeding as much as I was. Even though I wasn’t breathing that well, I still felt like I had enough strength to stand or walk I was just too scared to try anything. A panic was rising amongst the students in the classroom as the alarm sounded. I could hear someone breathing heavily, a few whimpering, and one praying.

“Everyone just be quiet for a second,” Edward demanded. I heard him take two steps back from the students. “This’ll be over quickly if everyone just shuts up.” I heard the click of the gun. The group of students panicked in gasps and whimpers. One boy call for his mom in a horse almost inaudible voice. “Mikey?” Edward began, “You remember my first day here you pulled my pants down in front of the whole school and everyone started calling me little dick?”

“Edward, you can’t,” I assumed this was Mikey begging. Without any further discussing Edward pulled the trigger. The sound of the gun firing rose above all other noises in the room. I peed. I was too scared to continue trying to hold it in. There I was on the floor of a classroom that wasn’t even mine, laying in a pool of my own blood and piss about to die slowly as a twenty-nine year old substitute teacher. I still had strength but I knew I could only lose so much blood before I was in danger. I knew Edward was behind me with his back to me but if he knew I was alive he would surely kill me. Why sacrifice myself if there is a possibility of waiting it out? I didn’t even know any of these students.

Skidding tires outside ushered in police sirens and helicopter propellers. All I had to do now was wait. Hopefully Edward would not kill another student before our rescue but I had made up in my mind that I was not getting up no matter what happened. I was too close to getting out of here alive. I took a deep breath. The piss in my pants was now getting cold and I was now trying not to shiver but laying in cold piss and blood did not make that easy. I think the worst of it was the smell that was associated with it. The pissed reminded me of the smell of a smokers clothes, mixed with cheap cologne, and alcohol. The blood, now on the side of my lips, caused me to develop a metallic taste in my mouth similar to new polished pennies.

“Terrence,” Edward was ignoring the commotion outside. “This morning, I think you were saying something about my haircut.”

“Edward it was just a joke,” Terrence was crying. He voice was shaking and high like a small girl’s.

“On your knees and beg,” Edward demanded. This kid was some kind of twisted. The floor vibrated as Terrence fell to his knees. My blood puddle, now near my eyes, rippled. The blood was getting on my eye lashes and irritating the corner of my eye. I tilted my head slighted off of the floor to get the corner of my eye out of the blood puddle.

“Now beg,” Edward demanded.

“Please, please don’t kill me. I have a girlfriend, and my mom, and my bro-“

“Not good enough,” Edward pulled the trigger. I heard Terrence’s body collapse to the floor. My blood puddle rippled again. I heard Edward’s footsteps walk closer towards me. I closed my eyes and pretended to be dead. The feeling of sleepiness came over me and I had to consciously tell myself to stay awake. I couldn’t die like this. Edward stepped over my body and walked behind the desk. He pulled the chair and sat down in Ms. Howard’s chair. The classroom was quiet. I could hear the chopper circling the building and a crowd had gathered outside of the school. I wondered if a SWAT team was in the ceiling or outside in the hall or just anywhere close. I didn’t know how much longer I could wait. I could feel the vibrations of my slow heartbeat.

I opened my eyes. I could see Edwards’s feet on the opposite side of the desk from where I was laying. He was wearing white K-Swiss and his pants were too small, exposing his white tube socks.

“Stacey, come here,” Edward said. His voice was amazingly calm and free of worry for a killer; no inflection, no shakiness, and just completely void of emotion. The girl began crying but I did not hear any footsteps come towards the desk. Edward through gritted teeth shouted, “Come here or I’ll blow your f*****g brains out from across the room.” The girl walked slowly towards the desk, step by step. I couldn’t help but think that Edward was all powerful as long as he held that gun. The choice of life and death was now in his hands and so far death was the only verdict.

The girl stepped over me and walked to the side of the desk. From where I was laying, I could see her from the neck up. Her eyes were red and her tears were falling to the floor like rain. She was shaking so bad, I thought she was going to collapse.

“Stacey,” Edward sounded like he had a bit of joy in his voice, “You remember when I asked you to the school dance?” There was silence. I heard the click of the gun, “I asked you a question.”

“Yes, yes, I remember,” she cried, “Please, don’t kill me, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I was surprised that you said ‘Yes’,” Edward continued, “but when I got to the dance, you showed up with Ian and when I approached you about it do you remember what you said?”

“Please, I’m sorry,” Stacey turned her head away and looked down right at me. Our eyes met. There was a brief surprised expression on her face when her eyes met mine. Edward pulled the trigger and planted a bullet in the side of her head. I never imagined that me; my eyes; would be the last thing someone saw before they died. As I watched her fall, time seemed to slow down. With gun smoke dissipating from her head, her blonde hair flowing through the air, and blood and brain matter scattering about; she fell right in front of me.

There I was on the floor, bleeding out, and looking into this girl’s head with her blood now becoming mixed in my blood. I gasped unconsciously and blood erupted in my throat causing me to cough involuntarily. “The hell?” Edward said and he got up from the chair. In that same moment, someone barge through the door and I heard ceiling tiles hit the floor and people come in from above.

“Hands up,” a man from the door shouted.

“Get the students,” a woman behind me said. I looked towards the door and men in black S.W.A.T uniforms were storming into the room. I looked up at Edward who was looking down at me. He raised his gun slowly at me. I closed my eyes. Multiple guns started to fire all around the classroom.

“He’s down.”

I was rushed to the hospital. I had lost thirty-five percent of my blood capacity but the doctors were able to get to me in time to save me. I was going to be alright. When the police questioned me about what happened in the classroom I stuck to the story that I was unconscious the whole time. I felt ashamed that I laid on the floor the whole time while ninth and tenth graders died. Edward had killed four students total with a pistol he took from his dad. Based on the short glimpse of his life that I saw, I could only imagine that he had a hard life. I couldn’t even dream of someone pushing me so far as to take the life of several people. I, of course, quit substitute teaching.

Author's Note

I was trying to approach this story by using other sense more so than sight. Please give opinions on transitions and things you thing could make the story better or flow more smoothly.