"Gary..."
I'm staring at the ceiling in my little shit-hole square 'dorm', as the prefects generously dub it. These little cubicles hold none of the things that they should have if they are to be called dorms. They reek of pain and shame and anger and sweat. Someone is sobbing quietly in their room, and from another there is the single squeaking of a mattress that is the sound of a cellmate in his own hand. I refuse to call them schoolmates. We know what we are, why we were sent to this hellhole school. We may as well not kid ourselves.
"Gary."
It's over. Gary revealed his whole sick plan to take over this pile of shit we grant the title,'school' on, but he never expounded on exactly WHY he wanted to be the king of something like this. It was a game to him. Unfortunately, he underestimated me. He get everyone else right, from the principal, the teachers, Pete, the other students, everyone. But he didn't read me right. I was stronger than him. He payed, oh yes, I don't worry that he didn't pay enough, worry that he paid more than anyone realized. The broken bones and many lacerations he sustained, enourmous cuts and gashes all over his body (which will leave him with far more scars than his long over-the-eye cut,) that he got from breaking through a giant plate window of glass, those aren't what I'm talking about.
Those things will land him in the hospital for a few months, but he thrives off of physical pain. What I worry about, is what happened inside. I have to assume that the whole reason he was as obssessive as he was, is because he had a mother/father who, when he was young, never approved of him. He was never good enough, so he makes up for it now. Up till now, he must have been on a pretty good 'living up to mommy/daddies expectations' spree, but now he has failed. He set a goal, spent hours planning on it, for it, plotting and scheming and thinking. He manipulated all sorts of people, stepped on toes, pitted people against one another simply by using human instinct to control them, threw everyone under the bus, and all.... for nothing.
"Gary..."
I was the one person he couldn't totally predict. He must hate me, and I wish I didn't know why. Sleep finally begins to tug me under...
The next morning, I, Gary Smith, King of Bullsworth, am in the worst mood I have ever been in at this school. I am sick of it. Sick of thinking. I stalk down the hall, and everyone starts to wave at me but then senses my bad mood, and backs away. I walk over, and grab the fire extinguisher. It's time to set an example. A nerd comes running up to me, brave in his stupidity, in his blissful ignorance to my murderous mood. He cries out," Hi Ga-" Before I interrupt him with a skull denting blow to the head with the ten pound fire extinguisher.
Blood spurts out from the opening, the long gash going down the side of his face. His eyes are wide from shock, spit and blood spewing out of his mouth. He lands on his face on the ground, and begins screaming before his blood bloacks his throat, making him cough hard, big splatters of thick, black/red blood hitting the ground with sickeningly loud plops. The boy's skull is fractured so badly, he loses consciousness pretty quickly, and I know he's going to die. I don'tfeel like watching, so I turn around and head down the hall. Everyone with half a brain is back in their dorms with the door locked, which of course leaves the too-eager nerds out in the open, gawking and stupid in a half-terrified, half-sexual expression. Their eyes are numb and dully excited. It makes me smile.
I walk down the hall, my clothes spattered with blood. I go to the other end pf the hallway. There is something else I want, instead of this. I'm going straight to the top, and I probably won't be coming back. Then the screaming starts.
"Wait, is he.. is he dead? Did Gary KILL HIM? Holy, h-holy.. Oh... Oh m-my..." Whichever kid it was whispering suddenly threw his head back and let out an animalistic scream of terror. I chuckle lightly. Then, suddenly, the situation is unbearably hilarious, and I throw back my own head, and scream with laughter, but I don't break a pace, striding between crowds of squealing, terrified kids. They are basically running around in circles, first going to the dorm recreational room, then deciding that was too open, rushing back to their dorms, only to find it locked, running back to the rec room, then back to their rooms, thinking that the rooms are open again. I go to the other end of the hallway, at the 'Break glass in case of fire' and punch the glass hard. It shatters over my now-bleeding profusely fist. I grimly realize I'm getting stiff at the prospect of what I'm about to do. I reach in to the box, and get not another fire extinguisher, but a machete. They keep them in there, the dumb fucks. I take it and head outside, totally calm ( Whatcha say, Whatcha say, What? Calm Like a Bomb.....). The prefects are flying past me as I'm reaching the school, apparently someone called and said someone was dying in there, but the prefects didn't know that there was a murderer yet. Which was good. They don't realize I am walking right by them with a machete. I'm entering the school now. I'm walking up the stairs, and that bitch who wants to fuck the headmaster with her decrepit fatass rushes past me too. Shame I can't kill her. I'm entering the office, I'm walking through the door, and there you are mister HEADMASTER, there you are, and as I'm pulling down the machete from above my shoulders, to bring it down on your neck, only to see you change, you aren't the headmster at all, you'e Jimmy Hopkins, and then I realize that I'm not Gary, I'm Jimmy and i'm bringing down the axe on my own head, my own head...
"No..No, no... No, no no no NOOOOOO!!! Wagh!" I wake up to find myself in my own bed. I rush to my mirror to see my own face. Thank god, I see me, Jimmy, NOT Gary, I am NOT Gary and I am NOT crazy... HE'S Gary, HE'S crazy, NOT me....