I'll end my days with you in a hail of bullets
Gerard's POV
Tuesday. The 20th of April. 1999. That was the day we were going to do it. We were finally going to take our revenge on those people who tortured us for 4 years straight. And all because we were gay. Yup, Frank Iero and I, both seniors, had been dating since freshman year. Ever since we came out, we were teased relentlessly. We were kindred spirits, always there for each other. Still, the constant teasing was too much for us. We planned the massacre together. we had in mind the ten people that we wanted to get rid of. We knew exactly how we were going to do it. we had thought of every possible hindrance, and a solution to each one. Our plan was meticulous and fool-proof.
We had the day off on the 19th. That was bad news for us, because that was the day we had originally wanted to do it on. It was 10 days after my 18th birthday. each day represented one of our 10 victims. We refused to let this hinder our plans, though, so we settled for the 20th instead.
That morning, we put the weapons in our backpacks. Frank was going to use a normal 67H shotgun, but I, always one to overdo things, was using a 311D double-barreled shotgun. We both had an extra round each stashed in our pockets. We met up on the walk to school to finalize our plans. We were both ready. We decided to put it into action after 3rd period, when everyone would be in the halls. We waited calmly until it was time.
As soon as the bell rang, we bolted out of the room, taking our guns from our pockets. We made our way to the West entrance, where we knew our first and second targets would be. Rachel Scott and Richard Castaldo. They were apparently the 'it' couple of Columbine High School, and they liked to make fun of anyone who wasn't them. We stood outside the doors until they walked up, hand in hand of course. They dropped their books and stared at us open-mouthed as we clodsed the distance between us and them, guns drawn and cocked. Frank held his gun to Rachel's head and I held mine to Richard's chest. We looked directly into their eyes, silently stating our motives to them. I think they got the message. Frank shot first, then I followed suit. Somehow, Richard managed to push me away and dodge my first bullet, so I shot at him again, hitting him point-blank in the chest. The first bullet hit Brian Anderson, who was standing in front of a window, in the shoulder, sending him flying back into it. The window shattered and shards of glass went flying everywhere. The bullet wound itself wasn't fatal, but he would probably bleed out from all the cuts.
We wasted no time making our way to the West staircase, where targets 3, 4, and 5 were. Daniel Rohrbough, Sean Graves, and Lance Kirklin. They were the big-shot jocks of the school, therefore in the popular crowd. They were some of our worst tormentors. We reached them in no time and, even in the stairwell filled with other students, they knew we were coming for them. They turned and ran. We followed them, hastily pushing people out of our way. I fired a shot in their direction, hitting Sean in the back. He stopped in his tracks and fell forward, already bleeding. Daniel and Lance stopped to help him, though there was no chance he would live anyway. Frank and I caught up to them. They looked up at us with fear in their eyes as we grabbed them by their shirt collars. I held my gun to Daniel's chest, right there in the middle of the now clear hallway. Frank pushed Lance up against the lockers, holding the gun under Lance's chin. I smiled a sickly sweet smile as I shot Daniel and let him fall to the ground next to Sean. I heard a shot behind me, obviously Frank shooting Lance. Frank dropped the body and we took off running to our next destination. At the end of the hallway, I looked back and caught a glimpse of Lance, lying on the floor next to the lockers.
We ran back down the stairs and out to the courtyard, where we saw targets 6 and 7. Michael Johnson and Mark Taylor. They had always been the ringleaders of the group that teased frank and I. They were, by far, the meanest people we'd ever met. When they saw us coming, they had the same reaction as all our other victims: complete and utter fear. They were frozen to their spots, almost not believing what they were seeing. We bounded up to them. Frank took Michael and I took Mark. We were running short on time, and bullets, so we made this one quick. I shot Mark in the chest from a few feet away and Frank shot Michael point-blank in the face, twice. We were running away before they even hit the ground.
We made our way to the cafeteria, where target 8, Anne-Marie Hochhalter, was. She was a total bitch and a homophobe. We caught her by the front entrance as she was trying to run away. We didn't bother to grab her. Frank shot her in the back as she was running down the hall in her pink high heels.
We stopped to reload then, before making our way to the North hall. Target 9, Stephanie Munson, was there just as we had predicted. She was the meanest girl in the popular crowd and one of the few girls who tortured Frank and I. She liked to take advantage of the fact that we wouldn't hit girls. Or really anyone, for that matter. I shot at her from pretty far away, hitting her in the ankle. She fell, immobilized, in a mess of her own blood. There was no point in wasting another bullet on her; she would bleed out eventually.
We bolted past her and all the way across the school to our final destination, the South hallway. Our final target, a teacher, Mr. Sanders to be exact, was inside his classroom with the door shut and locked. I shot through the glass of the window and Frank reached in through the broken remnants to open the door from the inside. We were face to face with Mr. Sanders, the biggest homophobe who ever lived. He often spoke out against LGBTQ's, even in class. He was unbelievably prejudiced.
Frank stormed over and pressed his gun to the trembling man's neck, smiling an evil smile before pulling the trigger. We were through with all our victims, except two. Ourselves.
We could hear the commotion of police cars outside already, so we knew we didn't have much time. Frank walked over to me and pressed his lips to mine. We shared one last passionate kiss (suck it, Mr. Sanders) before we cocked our guns. I aimed mine upward in my mouth and Frank pressed his to the side of his head. We smiled at each other, a sense of accomplishment silently exchanged between us. I felt a tear roll down my cheek and saw the same on Frank's. I nodded, signifying that I was ready. He counted backwards from 3 and we both stayed true to our pact, pulling the triggers at the exact same time. The last thing I saw before my eyes closed forever was Frank lying next to me, looking into my eyes.
I see you lying next to me, with words I thought I'd never speak, awake and unafraid, asleep or dead.