This was a story I started about two years ago. I didn't get very far but I decided to revamp it and continue it. I hope you all like it. Tell me what you think.
I was there when they found her. I couldn't blame the police. It didn't look good. There were four teens covered in blood, two of them dead. I remember her standing over the bodies in the gym. The florescent lights casted a sinister glow on the metal of the revolver. I stayed where I was on the floor, my head pounding. The police pulled out matching guns. Put the weapon down! Hands in the air! She tried to say something. I didn't -
Drop the gun or we will shoot! There was a cacophony of the metal as it clanked against the floor. I could hear gasping sobs. I didn't do anything! She cried brokenly. I tried to focus on her sun kissed face, but the copper of her eyes started to coalesce with the blue of the polices uniforms... Oh Ashley, what did you do?
...
2 years later...
"There ain't no reason things are this way.
Its how they always been and they intend to stay.
I can't explain why we live this way, we do it everyday."
I maneuvered through the crowds of teenagers. I could only catch parts of what they were saying through my right ear as the bud of the head phone dangled by my waist. Comments of the new year, of sports and new kids invaded my thoughts and I put the other head phone in.
I made it to my locker in a less crowed part of King High's hallways. A few freshmen walked by and hushed in false deference.
"Preachers on the podium speakin' of saints in seance,
Prophets on the sidewalk beggin' for change,
Old ladies laughing from the fire escape, cursing my name.
I got a basket full of lemons and they all taste the same,"
I was graduating this year, but the feelings of empathy and regard given forth had already worn off. I wasn't very exuberant. Maybe I should have stopped for some coffee at starbucks after all... maybe I could get a underclassmen to do it for me. I rolled my eyes at the thought. They'd probably spit in it.
I picked up the the electric blue nano ipod and headed for AP French class. My thumb absently rubbed over the somewhat desiccated label on the back. I could almost feel the engraving through the slowly yellowing paper. Shaking my head to clear my mind, I began to hum along.
"A window and a pigeon with a broken wing,
You can spend your whole life workin' for something
Just to have it taken away."
"Bonjour classe. Je m'appelle Mm. Lapes." She continued on asking everyone else to say their names.
"Et toi?"
"Je m'appelle Spencer Carlin." She gave me a sympathetic look before continuing.
"Tres bien classe. Passons a quelque chose de nouveau." When the bell rang almost forty minutes later I was one of the first students out the door.
After French I had physics, AP government, studio art and finally lunch. The fidgety freshmen hurried off anxiously to their fourth period as I tried to get back to my locker to dispose of my incredibly intriguing Introduction to Government book. I'm pretty excited... I think I might need to lose it accidentally.
I was just about to shut the rusty metal door when a lanky boy, probably 15 caught my attention.
"Do you need help?" I asked just wanting to go eat.
"No, I just... you're her right?" I could hear the cacophony of the people getting lunch and I wished that I could have just sucked it up and taken the book with me. "I mean, you're who they're talking about, right?" He asked all to egeraly. I closed the locker and placed both hands on it's warm surface looking down, not facing him.
"You don't have any idea what people are talking about."
"About h-"
"You don't know anything, ok?" I said unnaturally emotionless. "They're not talking about me anyways." I added quietly. He was still standing there when I left in the opposite direction. I traced the 'S' shaped scar that followed the curve of my eyebrow on my left temple and turned the music up.
"People walk around pushing back their debts,
Wearing pay checks like necklaces and bracelets,
Talking 'bout nothing, not thinking 'bout death,
Every little heartbeat, every little breath."
I had lost my appetite by the time I made it to the commons. I sat at an absent table near the back of the outside cafeteria and laid my hand on my folded arms.
"People walk a tight rope on a razors edge"
Just because I'm not there, doesn't mean I'm not with you...
I felt sick...
"Stop being a wuss Spencer." I said to myself, but I couldn't help but roll my finger over the pealing label on the ipod again. I needed to feel something that was still there, something that my fingers could read and memorize.
Blue, like the color of your eyes...
"Carrying their hurt and hatred and weapons.
It could be a bomb or a bullet or a pen
Or a thought or a word or a sentence."
I tucked the ipod back into the pouch on my canvas messenger bag. Without the constant music I started to notice how quite it was. People were still talking, but most of the seniors talked in frantic whispers. I tried to catch a sentence or two from the people around me, but I couldn't hear very well anymore. All I could see was how everyone's demeanor had morphed. The hairs on the back of my neck started to rise. I didn't want to be here; it was unnerving. I gather my things and began walk across the commons when I met his eyes as his mouth formed two word. I turned my head towards the ground imediately.
She's back.
"There ain't no reason things are this way
It's how they always been and they intend to stay
I can't explain why we live this way, we do it everyday"