Hey all!
I thought of this idea when I was doing a project for my Creative Writing class and I thought I'd try it out and see what you think. The title is based off of a song by a FABULOUS band from Britain called McFly (not sure how many of you know them, but they are AWESOME). This is a bit like a prequel leading up to the story, so why don't you read it and tell me what you think.
Thanks!
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No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get the horrible sounds out of her head; the sound of terrified screaming; the sound of utter sorrow; the sound of someone taking their last breath. Despite the fact that it had happened hours ago, those sounds were still echoing through her brain as if their sources were right next to her. She clapped her hands over her ears in a frantic attempt to get them to stop.
But at that moment, new sounds reached her ears: officers trying to get information; students crying over lost friends; parents asking desperate questions about their children. Those sounds wouldn't go away either.
"Anyone have info on the shooter?"
"Shot himself before we could take him in."
"But not before the bastard killed my best friend!"
"Stacey! Oh god, Stacey, where's your brother?"
"D-Dead, Mom. H-He was s-s-shot!"
"She's right over there, Detective."
Next second, two officers entered the room and sat down opposite of her. She couldn't look at them and instead looked down at her hands covered in blood. Their blood. She could only imagine how she looked now: face blotchy and tear-stained, hands and shirt stained red with blood, hair messy and tangled, eyes full of fear. She wished the two of them would be with her, helping her to forget this ever happened. But she knew, deep down, that no matter how hard she tried to forget, she knew she would remember this day for the rest of her life.
"Miley, my name is Detective Garrison and this is Detective Brownstone," one of the officers said. His voice was calm and soothing, but it did nothing to calm or soothe her. All she kept remembering was his voice ringing through the hallways, mingling with the sounds of the deadly gunshots.
"Miley, I know that you don't want to think about it right now, but we need you to tell us what happened," Detective Garrison continued. "The shooter is dead, but we still need to know what happened in the classroom. You seemed to be the only one that he was determined not to kill and we need to know why."
She turned her head, unable to look the officer in the eyes. It wasn't that she thought the question was inappropriate because she knew it wasn't, and it wasn't that she couldn't remember what happened—no matter how much she wished she didn't. She didn't know if she could relate the story again. She was still so scared and confused about everything. And the fact that her two best friends weren't there didn't help her either.
"W-Where are Lilly and Oliver?" she asked, her voice still trembling.
She saw Detective Garrison look over at Detective Brownstone who shook his head. "We can't give you any information at the moment," Detective Garrison said. "We're still unsure of everyone."
"Just tell me that they're okay," she said in a louder voice, more tears spilling from their eyes. "Just please tell me that they're…alive."
Detective Garrison looked at the floor. "I suppose you do have a right to know." Her eyes widened and she braced herself for the worst.
"Last I heard, Mr. Oken was in surgery and Ms. Truscott was due in several short minutes," he replied. "I don't have any news on either of their conditions at the moment so that's all I can give you."
She took a deep breath and finally looked up at the officer, nodding to show her thanks. At least they were safe at the moment, but she didn't know how much longer that moment would last. There had been all that blood. Two shots had been fired into Oliver's chest. And how well of a shield was that desk that Lilly had used to defend herself?
"Where's my dad?" she suddenly asked, realizing that she wanted nothing more at the moment than for him to hold her in his arms and tell her that it was going to be all right.
"He's with the other parents," Detective Brownstone replied, speaking for the first time. "The chief of police is giving them an explanation about what happened today. Or rather, as much of it that we know."
"That's why we need you, Miley," Detective Garrison added. "The shooter is dead, but we have his two accomplices in custody and we need your testimony to land them in jail for a long, long time. Do you understand?"
She nodded, but still didn't know if she would be able to relate the story. It had been the most terrifying four hours of her life. Already she could feel her brain trying to block out bits and pieces of what happened. As much as she wanted to forget it all forever, they needed to know the whole story.
"He…he said that he couldn't kill me," she choked out, swallowing back a sob.
"Why, Miley?" Detective Garrison asked.
"I…I don't remember," she stammered untruthfully.
"Yes, you do," Detective Brownstone insisted. "You do remember, but you don't want to so you're trying to convince yourself that you don't."
"Why did he say that he couldn't kill you?" Detective Garrison asked again.
"I…I don't know," she said, her breath catching in her chest. "Please, just let me go home."
"We can't do that now, Miley," Detective Brownstone said. "We need your side of the story before you try to permanently block it out."
"I don't want to remember!" she sobbed, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I don't want to think about it!"
"Miley, all we're asking is for you to tell it now so we can get it on the record," Detective Garrison explained. "After that, you don't have to tell it ever again. Okay?"
She shook her head. "I…I can't! I can't talk about it! I don't know why he wanted me so badly!"
"Yes, you do," Detective Garrison said, his voice still soothing and calm. "Stop trying to convince yourself that you don't. It's what he wanted. He wanted you to be so scared that you would try to convince yourself that you didn't know and, in a sense, 'forget' what happened."
She bit her bottom lip to try to prevent herself from crying out. She knew that the officer was right, but she didn't want to admit it. Retelling the story would only make her relive the memories. So what if it put his friends in jail? It didn't change the fact that over thirty students had been killed (she tried not to think of Lilly and Oliver adding to that body count); it didn't change the fact that there were dozens of grieving parents two rooms down from her; it didn't change the fact that the entire school would be shaken up for who knew how long.
"Miley, listen to me," Detective Garrison said, kneeling down in front of her and putting his hands on her shoulders. "We don't want you to feel uncomfortable. We know that what you just went through was terrible and we know that the last thing you want to do is talk about it. So just take your time, try to remember, and tell us when you're ready."
She sniffed and wiped her eyes, ignoring the blood on her hands that was smearing with the blood already on her cheeks. His blood.
"I have to tell you?" she asked in a shaky voice.
Detective Garrison nodded. "Please, Miley. Is there anything I can get you to make you feel more comfortable? Anything?"
She thought about it, but realized the only thing that would truly make her comfortable would be not telling the story. And it was clear that they weren't letting her out of that. Slowly, she shook her head and whispered, "Okay, I'm ready."
"Good, good," Detective Garrison said. He motioned to Detective Brownstone who turned on a tape recorder and turned back to her. "Just start from the beginning."
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes trying hard to remember. She had picked Lilly up like she always did and the two of them had received a pleasant surprise when they got to their lockers that morning…
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Okay, now that you already know what happened, you get to see WHY it happened. If you're interested and want me to continue, post some reviews and let me know. Thanks a lot guys!! Hope to hear from you all!
