Columbine chapter 9 I'm there

I swear I felt the bullet go through my temple. I fell to the floor and looked up at the ceiling. I saw Eric look down at me. His eyes began to fill with tears. It was the first time I'd ever seen him cry. I struggled to breathe but tried not to make a sound. I didn't want Eric to notice I could still hear him. He sat up against the bookcase and hugged his knees. He rested his head on his knees and began to cry. I felt a tear of my own roll down my face. I could hear police car sirens and the voice of parents screaming. "Fuck" I heard him whisper. He lifted his head and looked at me. He whipped his eyes and grabbed his gun again. While he loaded his gun, his eyes never left what was left of me. He put it to his head and shot.

I began to cry harder. Why? My pulse began to slow down and I could feel the end of my short, sad life approaching faster and faster every second. As I took my last few, pointless breathes, I wondered if my mom knew? Did she care? Do people know it was us yet? I began to close my eyes and breathed my last breath as one last tear rolled down.

And now I'm here, somewhere between heaven and hell. I watch those who are living the life I wish I had had. I'm alone, and have no idea where Eric and everyone who died that day are. I watch the faces of everyone when they first read about what I did, as they're faces look at my picture with hate and disgust. I think of what I did every day and wish I hadn't. I watch my family everyday as they live their lives, wishing they could have done something to help me. Every time someone writes a story, a poem or an essay about the Columbine Massacre. Every time someone thinks about me, or what I've done, I'm there, with them. I would be thirty years old if I was alive today and not a day goes by where I don't think about how I'm frozen in time as a 17-year-old. And I watch the world, and not a day goes by where I hope others don't do what I did because I regret it and pay for it now.