I wake up, the day seems normal. I can hear the early morning birds out side my window. I hear the whooshing of cars as they speed by. I look at my clock to the numbers 7:15 blinking wildly. As much as I hate it, I know I have to go to school. I have to endure the cruel punishment of people laughing in my face or knocking me around. It's something I have grown accustomed to.
Last nights events come rushing back at me like a freight train. The hits. The slams. Anger boils inside me. Anger towards rusty and his gang for starting the brawl. Anger towards my so called friends who never seem to call anymore. I don't even know if they care anymore. Finally, I reach my limit, remembering how they left me alone, not even bothering to introduce me to whom he left me for.
I throw on my clothes and hurry over to my drawer. Hidden beneath many articles of clothing is a gun. It's a gun I never actually planned on using. I would take it to school and people would fear me. They won't dare say another hateful remark to me, knowing that with one pull of the trigger, they will be dead.
"Jimmy, you're going to be late for school," my mother calls from down stairs. I hide the gun in the pocket of my sweatshirt and I head downstairs. I see her standing by the door, smiling warmly at me, totally unaware of what I have in my pocket. Maybe today will be different. Maybe I won't have to use it.
"I have to be at school kind of early," I say face, hoping to avoid the hug she normally gives me every morning. "Love you, mom." I leave before she can say anything else.
I have some time to kill before school starts so I stand in the quad, watching as students go by. As I mentioned in the time capsule video, everybody is fake so they stick to their cliques to hide it. Jocks are jocks, stoners are medicated and the honor students are afraid. It's my senior year and I'm counting down the days until I can get out of this school.
"Here we go," I mumble to myself, throwing my cigarette down on the pavement. I head inside.
When I enter the hall, I look down at the floor to see books being kicked around. My books being kicked around. I look to Rusty and his friends. They broke into my locket.
"Nice locker, loser," he says, knocking my shoulder as he passes. Finally, like a bomb, I explode. I turn around to face the door, knowing that he is now right there. I pull the gun from my pocket and I aim it at the glass doors. I take the shot.
I can't believe what I just did. I had never planned on shooting anybody. Did I shoot anybody? So many thoughts run through my head as chaos unravels around me. I place the gun and my pocket and follow a crowd to the tutor center. Haley James Scott shuts the door, locks it tightly, and turns off the lights. None of the people with me know that the real danger is right there with them. We all sit against the wall.
"Everybody just stay down and stay calm. Were safe here," she tells us. I'm not listening. I can't stop thinking about how it felt to shoot. How strong the kick back of the gun was. And, how after shooting, how heavy the gun felt in my hand.
We sit for a while, nobody making any movements or sounds. It's completely silent. Until one of us speaks up.
"We need to get out of here," Marcus says. I look at him but keep myself isolated from the group.
"No, we need to stay put," Haley tells him. "Its procedure. Lockdown. We have to wait until its safe."
"And I'm saying lock down is crap. Whoever is out there is a student. They know where were at."
"What about the windows?" Rachel Gattina says. I remember her from last night. She peppers sprayed rusty during the fight. I had thanked her but learned that she didn't do it for me. She had just always wanted to pepper spray somebody. "We could break the windows and get out."
Inside, I laugh. Outside, my face stays stiff and emotionless.
"No, it just goes to a courtyard. It's enclosed. It's just for light," Haley stutters. I can just see how afraid she is without the big bad Nathan Scott by her side. Yet another jock.
"Yeah and besides, we get to breakin' all the windows, all we do is draw attention to ourselves," Skills says. I remember when Skills and I were friends.
"You don't think a locked door is gonna tell whatever psycho that's out there that were in here?" Marcus says. Finally, I have to speak up.
"Why would you call him psycho?" maybe he is just a tortured person, wanting it to all stop. Is that too much to ask. All eyes look to me.
"Something to do with them trying to kill us all, fatass," Marcus answers coldly. I resist the urge to pull the gun out of my pocket and shoot him.
And so, in silence we sit, I tap my fingers nervously on the gun resting in my pocket and wondering if the time will come when it will be necessary to shoot.
"No signal. All circuits busy," Skills finally says, breaking the silence. We hear a tapping at the door and Marcus immediately springs up. Maybe I can just shoot them all and be done with it. Can I run away? Where can I run to? A driver's license slides in from under the door.
"It's Nathan," Haley exclaims, moving her hands toward the door. Great
"No way. You don't know it's him," Marcus tells her.
"No look, it's his driver's license," she shows him the license.
"So how do you know that some one didn't kill him and take his ID? Ok, you're the one that said this is a lock down. Every man for himself."
Jackass.
"She can't leave him out there," Rachel says.
"Don't open it," Abby Brown springs up.
I see Haley press her ear to the door, mutter something and begin to undo the lock.
"It's him," she breathes.
Marcus pushes her away from the door. "Get away from the door," he tells her. Skills pushes Marcus up against the wall.
"She say its him, it's him," Skills says to Haley. "Open the door."
As soon as she opens the door, big bad Nathan Scott comes in. He takes her in his arms. I see another one of my old friends, my best friend, rush in behind him. They think they are all fine and everything will be ok. Well, it amuses me of how little they know. How the real danger is standing just feet away from them.
"You okay?" Nathan asks Haley, hugging her tightly. The stereotypical high school couple. The jock and the cheerleader.
"Yeah. What's going on out there?" Haley asks him.
"Yeah, come on. Were getting out of here, all of us," Nathan tells us.
I bring the gun out of my pocket and I point it at them. If they leave, they will go get the cops and bring them in and we can't have that happening. I can't go to jail. I can't do that to my mom.
"Don't," I say, pointing the gun at them. "Nobody's going anywhere."