"I wish I could cover all my tracks completely, 'Cause I'm so afraid. Is that the light at the far end of the tunnel? Or just the train?"
Layne got out of her car, walked around to the passenger side, reached inside and snatched her shiny black shotgun from the leather seat. Loaded and ready. The weight of the gun in her hand made her, for a second, realize the seriousness of the situation she was in. Maybe she could handle this angst inside of her in a better, less reckless way?
She pushed this little thought to the back of her cluttered mind. It was a mere annoyance, like a fly hitting a window.
Layne slammed her hands on the door handle and shoved it open. Walking past the attendance office, she saw the mean old secretary with the horrible haircut give her a nasty look. Layne responded by showing the woman her little black pistol, pointing it right at her face. The secretary's mouth formed into a teeny O, and she ducked. Layne decided not to waste the bullets and time in shooting her. She still smiled though, for having a loaded gun in her hands gave her a sense of power-the power she didn't have ever since the bullying, the nightmares, the cutting, the abuse started.
She walked on, continuing to room C-12. Massie and Alicia's first period classroom.
She maneuvered a flight of stairs and walked down another hallway, and she was there. The door to room C-12 was in front of her.
Layne lingered there for a second, her hand hovering over the door handle. Should I do this? One part of her brain pondered. Should I become a murderer? Should I ruin my life?
Gosh, Layne. Suck it up, you're a big girl! Another section screeched.
She nodded internally, shoved the door open and ran inside, holding her gun in front of her.
No stopping her now.
The reactions of the other students were immediate. Their jaws dropped when they saw her weapon, and they scrambled under the desks. Most of the girls and a few very flaky guys started to clam up in fear. Layne noticed Massie and Alicia, next to each other in the back corner, get under the desks with everyone else. She strode calmly over to their side, humming a happy tune(Marry You by Bruno Mars)and grabbed Massie by the long, brunette hair extensions and pulled her up from her desk. The room gasped. Massie winced.
"Massie Block." Layne said, and laughed menacingly. "You put me through five years of torture and fear. Up until today, I was afraid of you, afraid that you were going to hurt me. Do you have anything to say for yourself, Massie?"
Massie didn't say a word. Not a single apology, because even in the face of death, Massie was as stubborn as a mule.
"Well, even if you did, it's too late now," Layne gravely spoke. She held up the gun and pulled the trigger. Before the bullet made contact, Layne caught a glimpse of Massie's expression. It was the worst thing anyone could ever witness, her face at that moment. And no matter how much Layne tried to get it out of the back of her eyelids, it wouldn't budge.
Oh well. One down.
"I forget the last time I felt brave, I just recall insecurity."
Layne stepped sideways, avoiding the patch of Massie Block's blood that was growing larger. Gross. Layne barfed inside her mind. Blood was one of her few fears. Well, maybe if you hadn't SHOT her, you wouldn't be afraid! The persistent voice squealed. Shut up, shut up, you annoying little twit!
She was now standing in front of Alicia's desk. Alicia saw Layne's weapon and realized what she was about to do. Layne watched as her eyes grew wet with tears, her long, pink-tipped acrylic nails scratching Layne's hands, trying to grasp them enough to hold on.
"Please, Layne. PLEASE!" Alicia sobbed. "Please, Layne. Please spare me! I know I did all those mean things to you. I know how horrible I was, but please! We can work this out!"
"We could have worked this out if you had come to me earlier, when I didn't have a gun in my hands," Layne said, her hands shaking. "But you didn't, Alicia. You stood by when Massie destroyed me. It's too late now."
Alicia trembled, her mascara tears making trails across her cheeks. She seemed to know what she had done and ready to do whatever it was to make it up to her victim, but Layne was in too deep to back down. Before Layne could change her mind, she did it. She killed Alicia. She heard the sound more clearly this time, the bangbangbangs. She saw the blood that was pooling on the floor, and she heard the whimpers and cries of the other students.
Everyone was crying now. They were all scared for themselves and for their peers. For a moment, Layne felt pity, but she slammed it quickly into the back of her brain. Most of her emotions over the past five years had gone there. They had accumulated, and they were now flowing out.
Oh crap, she thought. The secretary had seen her with her weapon, she had to have called the police. She had to get moving.
Layne raced down the hall, shotgun in hand, and into a different classroom. This time, she hid her weapon behind her back.
Upon entering, the chatter immediately fell to a whisper.
They must had been gossiping about her. The only ones still chattering at full volume were Dylan Marvil and Claire Lyons. Her next people on her list.
Layne walked over to their seats and stared at them for a few seconds. The kids behind Layne, the ones that could see her gun, had stopped whispering. Out of the corner of her eye, Layne saw Derrick Harrington, her ex-boyfriend, the abusive one, starting to cry. He was scared of her. Layne laughed a little. Derrick Harrington, reduced to tears because of fear. Fear of Layne. The roles had finally been reversed.
Claire didn't seem to notice the quiet and broke the silence by saying, "Hey Layme, why are you staring at me? Do you have, like, a lez-crush on me or something? Lay off, retard."
Layne barely kept her gun behind her, shaking with rage. "Why would you say that?"
"Because you're a LESBO!" Dylan sniggered, her face turning as red as her locks.
"You're going to regret saying that," Layne was seething. She clenched her hands. They quickly grew sweaty.
"What are you going to do, rape us? Shut up, you skank. We all know your secret." Claire laughed evilly, her icy blue eyes flashing with mischief.
There was more quiet for a moment. She could tell people were motioning Claire and Dylan to lay off, to stop, that their lives could be in danger. The two laughing girls, however, didn't even notice.
"You little BITCH!" Layne screamed. She grabbed her gun out from behind her and shot Claire in the shoulder. Claire screeched as the bullet ripped through her skin and writhed in intense pain, before flopping onto the floor in a lifeless pile. Dylan was so shocked by the gunshot she flipped out of her chair and into the aisle. Layne climbed over the desks and poked her boot heel into Dylan's chest.
"DON'T! Please! Please don't hurt me! I'll do anything, anything! Please!"
"NOTHING..." Layne shook. "NOTHING will be able to let me forgive you and let go of everything. You helped ruin me, Dylan. You watched while your stupid whore friends slammed me into lockers and destroyed me. You were the one who told everyone I was a lesbian. You were the one who got me drugged and convinced Todd Lyons to take pictures of my naked body while I was knocked out. NOTHING will make up for what you've done," Layne finished. And Layne shot her.
Everyone in the class was silently crying by now, watching their alphas die. Maybe if they had noticed Layne herself getting murdered on the inside, they wouldn't have to watch this happen.
The air was thick with the smell of blood. By taking one look at Claire and Dylan, Layne knew they were dead by now. No one could lose that much and still be breathing. She felt a strange sense of relief for a split second. All of her tormentors were gone. There would be no more pain, no more sorrow. Thank goodness, she thought, and for the first time in a while, she laughed. Laughed hysterically. "They're GONE!" she cried with joy. "GONE!"
This moment was short-lived, however, because then it all fell. It came down like a tidal wave of guilt. I am a murderer, Layne realized. And if I decide to live, I will have to live with this for the rest of my life.
You can take the easy way out, a voice in Layne's head whispered, demon-like. You could just put the gun to your head and shoot. No jail time, no grief, no blood on your hands. Just blackness. It would be nice, wouldn't it?
No, another side screamed. No, no, no. Have you seen what you have done? You are a murderer. These people had lives, families, futures-
"Stop," Layne cried aloud. "Make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!"
Her weak hands grew stronger and felt around on the floor for the gun. She placed the end into her own mouth, aiming for her brain, and shot.
"'Cause it came down like a tidal wave, and sorrow swept over me..."
Disclaimed.
Sorry if anyone was grossed out, I tried to keep it clean-ish because I hate gory things myself.
Reviews are nice.