Broken

Inspiration came from a heartbreaking tragedy. But that's usually how it happens with me.

Craig’s green eyes sparkled mischievously as he aimed a paper plane at our teacher’s beehive hairdo. He winked quickly at me before letting it fly, and then quickly pulled his history book toward us to give the impression of studying.

The other students in the cafeteria snickered as it landed in her hair, and she absentmindedly turned her head before shrugging and refocusing her glassy eyes on her book. Most of our classmates, especially the girls, turned to give Craig appreciative glances. I shot the females dirty looks before smiling back up at him.

“This study hall blows,” I sighed. “I think I’m going to pick up an elective. Maybe Spanish or French.”

“An elective?” Craig exclaimed in an exaggerated whisper. “Then what will I do every day for an hour and a half?”

I barked a laugh, still studying the history book and taking down notes. “Find a new friend?”

“I have no friends. I’m a lone wolf.”

“You’re a weirdo,” I muttered.

He slapped me playfully on the thigh. “Be nice,” he demanded as the bell rang, signaling the end of my least favorite time of day. We had barely stood up when we heard the scream, followed immediately by a loud pop.

My heart raced and then slammed to a stop. “Craig…,” I whispered. He put his hand over my mouth and pulled me toward the farthest area of the cafeteria, as close to the exit door as we could reach, while still being covered. We had just crouched down beneath a table when the shooter entered the room. I held my breath, and I felt Craig doing the same beside me.

Backpacks were piled haphazardly in front of us, and there were other students hiding throughout the cafeteria. From where we ducked down, I could see a group of spiteful cheerleaders huddled together in front of us and other unknown classmates hunkered down with their head in their hands. I grabbed all the nearest backpacks and piled them in front of Craig and me, who were off in our own spot, all the way near the end of the row.

How long has there been a shooter in the school? Why wasn’t there an announcement? They left us here like sitting ducks! My thoughts were running into one another. I took a steadying breath and glanced at Craig. Whoever the shooter was, he made a smart move in coming here. We were easy pickings. There were two doors in the cafeteria: the entrance, which was blocked by him, and the exit, which was 30 feet away. I’d be shot the second I stood up. We were trapped. Tears filled by eyes and my shoulders shook in silent sobs. Craig wrapped his arms around me and I melted into his embrace; he held me tightly. “Shhh, Katie, it’ll be okay. We’ll be fine. Please stop crying,” he whispered urgently.

I bit down on my tongue to stifle the sound of my tears. The shooter was walking back and forth across the front of the cafeteria. He hadn’t shot his gun since he’d entered the room. Suddenly, there was a loud slam: the cafeteria doors were shut.

“My name is Paul Dunn,” boomed a loud voice. The name was wholly unfamiliar to me. “I started at this school about four months ago, at the beginning of the school year. After being bullied mercilessly at my previous school, I saw this as a chance at a new life. A new school meant new students, a chance to finally make a real friend. And they placed me in this… f*****g… study hall.” A gunshot echoed around me. “Not even a week into the year, I was already being picked on. Half of the students in this room right now have made the past four months hell for me, worse than anyone else in my life. And now, you’re all going to suffer for it.”

The cheerleaders in front of me were whispering to each other; I was willing to bet they were part of the group that had been torturing him. They were the typical cheerleading types: bottle blondes who thought they were better than everyone else, and made sure the whole world knew it.

A shot rang out and a girl screamed. I watched Paul walk to one side of the cafeteria, the side farthest from us and spray bullets up one aisle. Nearly every person that had been hiding there fell over, dead or severely injured. People screamed without worry now. There was no use trying to stay quiet. He’s serious… he’s going to kill us all, I thought.

I looked at Craig, his green eyes scorching into my hazel set. We were saying a million things to one another without uttering a single syllable out loud. He pressed his lips against my temple, and I felt him quivering. He placed his forehead against mine and nodded. He knew I loved him. There weren’t enough words in the world to explain just how much he meant to me.

A spray of shots went off again, closer. More screaming followed quickly. There were sobs emitting from all areas. He was in the row right before us. All five of the bottle blonde cheerleaders fell over as intermittent bullets flew directly into each of their heads. I watched with a horrified expression as they all died in front of me. I was gasping for breath now. Craig huddled in front of me, ready to shield me.

As Paul lined his gun up and down our aisle, his eyes met with mine and he gave me a particularly hateful glare. I recognized his face immediately, even though his name hadn’t rung a bell in my mind. I had stood by, just a week ago, and watched as the same cheerleaders bleeding out in front of me played a nasty prank on him. He had looked to me for help, and I had walked away. He hated the cheerleaders for what they had done. He hated me for what I hadn’t.

He lifted his gun, aimed directly toward me, just as the cafeteria doors burst open. Instinctively, I lifted my head to see what happened, but Craig quickly grabbed my small body and lowered me, hovering over me protectively so my entire body was covered by his. Two shots rang out. From beneath Craig’s arm, I watched Paul fall to the ground, blood spurting from his shoulder and a pained expression forming. The gun he had been holding flew across the floor as the police officers swarmed in.

“Craig,” I said breathlessly. “We’re okay.” His body had moved away from mine when Paul fell. I looked over at him with a budding smile, but stopped when I saw the look of anguish on his face. “No,” I whispered. I sat up and Craig fell backwards. There was a bullet hole through his chest, and blood was quickly spreading across the floor. “No, no, no,” I moaned.

I pressed my hands to the wound, just as I’d been taught in my first aid classes. He had to make it. “Katie,” he gasped out. I leaned closer to his lips. “I love you.”

Tears streamed down my cheeks; I poured my heart through my eyes as it broke in half in my chest. There was nothing there now but a hole that would never be filled.

I kissed his forehead chastely and watched as my baby brother took his last breath.  

Reviews

[S.Diane.L.]

That was... absolutely stunning. It did have a very "run-of-the-mill" feeling, someone got bullied to the point of snapping, and turned violent. But the way you wrote it was beautiful. You could feel the powerful emotions throughout the reading, and that last sentence... You had me convinced it was her boyfriend, or a very close male friend. That last line rammed home the poignant of this piece.

Very well done.

[Craig2591]

Okay, you got me. I thought this was a poignant, well written but predictable story... until I read the last line. Very unexpected twist at the end. Good job.