Columbine; Chapter 1
I couldn't sleep… again. I was thinking about tomorrow. Am I really gonna do this? I checked the time, 12:34am. It's already the day. My stomach hurt. I got up to go to the bathroom and as I passed by my parents' bedroom and stopped in front of the door. It was open just a bit so I looked in. I saw my parents sleeping soundly, as my eyes began to fill with tears, when my mom woke up suddenly.
"Dylan?" She said, sitting herself up.
"Yeah?" I asked, as my voice cracked.
"You Ok?"
"Yeah," I answered "Fine"
"You sure?" She said uncertain.
"Yeah, mom. Good night." Wanting to end the conversation.
"Good night, I love you." She said, lying back down.
"Love you too…" I mumbled, walking away.
As I entered my room again, I looked around. Who have I become? I don't even know myself anymore, Breaking into a car, stealing computers? That's not me. I don't know what happened. I just stopped caring about everything. Nothing interests me and I just don't care anymore.
What am I gonna do tomorrow? I can't back out, he'll kill me, literally. And I do want to make them pay, but not like this, not taking their lives. Why does that have to be the way we get back at them? What will my parents think? How can I leave them with only the memories of the crime I committed and lives I tore apart? I don't really want to hurt anyone, I just want to stick a gun in the faces of those who laugh, and taunt and tease and make them regret ever saying all those things they did and all the things they through at me and all the ways they tortured me for years. I'm so full of anger now and I just want to show them that they're the ones who are wrong, not me. They're the ones who fucked me up.
I closed my eyes and played back my day, remembering walking down the hall, when one of those damn jocks came from behind and shoved me into the lockers. "Fag!" He yelled, high-fiving his friends as they laughed. Fuck did it hurt. I looked down and ignored them, when they looked back at me. I could hear the loud laughter as it echoed through the halls. Man, it pissed me off. "Fuck." I said under my breath. Why did they think they were so much better than us?
I turn on to my side, and opened my eyes. 12:56. I closed my eyes again and turned on to my back and began to drift into a dark sleep.
(This is simply what I believe Dylan Klebold, one of the shooters of the Columbine Massacre, might have been like or thought of throughout the remainder of this event. I DO NOT want to offend anyone or hurt anyone and I do not necessarily agree with these thought and do not blame anyone! This is just what I feel he might have felt like but does not justify his actions. THIS IS NOT REALLY what he thought (We don't know for sure)