. a question to the world .
Figuring he hadn't put the gun in his mouth and painted the wall with his brains, Monday probably would have been a rather dull day.
It've been full of queer glances, awkward situations, pregnant pauses between hello's, curious stares from friends, and Bender running down the hallway with a flare gun (I know this because Bender did, in fact, run down the hallway with a flare gun until Claire told him what had happened, and then he shot if off screaming something obscene.)
It wouldn't have been the insane mass of sorrow that it was.
Allyson wouldn't have fallen to the ground screaming as tears streamed down her face.
Claire wouldn't have locked herself in the girls restroom.
Bender wouldn't have gone through the school breaking things and letting off his flare gun with reckless abandon.
There wouldn't have been posters and big yellow ribbons and everybody and their mother mourning the loss of our town's finest star.
But more importantly... there wouldn't have been the empty seat, the jacket never again to be filled, and the promise not carried out because it came years to late.