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11-21-24 07:00 PM
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Cairoi
This isn't about you and your loud mouth,
This is about me and my fucking beard.








Since: 08-29-04
From: PA

Since last post: 4848 days
Last activity: 4472 days
Posted on 03-16-06 09:54 PM Link | Quote
EDIT: Whole story's here now.

I liked today, it seemed like it was going to be good. I got up at 5 AM this morning, a new record. I always get up at like 6 AM or 5:45. This morning, I had extra time to pass out in the shower. I love the feeling of the drops pelting against your skin, you know? It gives me the sensation I'm in a summer rain storm, and all is at peace. It's so soothing I could live in there if I had the money. Eh, life ain't perfect.

I walked out of the bathroom and looked at the steps in front of me, my piles of clothes strewn about. My eye was caught on my Abbey Road T-shirt, and with glee I threw it on. I loved wearing it, and sumbliminally waited for my mom to wash it so I could again. I grabbed my dark blue jeans and a pair of boxers, then walked back into the bathroom, shuffling about. A moment later, I was changed and ready to rock.

I walked into the ivory-tinted living room, the pinnacle of my mom's sense of fashion. She always kept the room tidy at all times, unlike my brother's room. She just shut the door there and hoped no one felt compelled to go in. I looked in the big mirror and fixed my bangs, a little agitated. Ever since my bad hair-cut, if I don't attend to my bangs like a wet nurse, it looks like a retarted bowl cut. Otherwise, it looks cool.

I threw on my grey winter coat, which was amazing because it was warmer than the giant ones but it was thin. I never really figured out how it worked, but I sure as hell appreciated it.

I grabbed my green, stained bookbag and trudged back into the kitchen. I grabbed my lunch money and some pens, looking up at my mom, reading the paper. She gave her salutations as best an exhausted mother could. I smiled and laughed, opening the side door. I tried to open the screen door immediatly afterwards, but the warped metal at the bottom kept it shut. I growled as I flung my foot forward and kicked the door out, laughing immediately after.

I said goodbye again and walked out of the house, towards my busstop outside the charter school. I got there and some were already there, smoking like they'd been doing it for decades. I did my best to not hold it against them, but sometimes the smell drove me crazy. Eventually, I started to freeze, which was cue for the bus. I grinned at the sound of the overworked brakes, signaling it's grand entrance.

I climbed in, walked to the back, slumped in my seat, and passed out. My buddy who sat in the seat in front of me always woke me up. I drifted in my mind, waiting for the immenent signal to rise from this coma. I felt the bus come to a familiar turn, one that foretold the end of the bus. My nap was over. However, I had gotten enough sleep for the day to last me until math.

I got into the school, the brick and stone edifice to half-assed education. The sights, sounds, and smells of the building do what they can to imprint them into your memory. My peers slumber into the school, all driven by threats of punishment. The lunch staff work hard to taunt us with the smell of breakfast, haunting us with fragrances of food we never see. No matter what delicacy we smell, it's always the same food. They love messing with our heads.

I enter the freshmen hallway, looking for the save haven of homeroom so I can dump my books. I bump into some friends, talk a bit, then find my way into homeroom with the sound of the bell. My homeroom teacher was tired of dealing with the kids in homeroom, so she figured putting on Disney's Hercules would sedate them.

I found it funny the normally wild, stimulated homeroom was enraptured by this children's move. There were side conversations here and there, but for the most part, they were silent. It was...nice, not a normality in this homeroom.

The next two periods were a blur to me. I know in Social Studies we did worksheets, our teacher delivering his normal strew of jokes that made the class interesting. In French, I slept.

And all hell broke loose in Math. It was when 1st lunch was being let loose. They normally screamed and made havoc returning to class, so we took little notice of it. I was talking with my friend Sarah, who I've grown close to. I don't know what I could say about the situation with her. I guess you could say my affections for her had taken hold, and I began to relish the time in math, a class I normally hated.

All the sudden, their screams were interrupted with another sound. I jumped in my seat, and my entire class grew deadly silence. The monotonous voice of the principal came over the loud phone.

"Intruders are in the school. Commence Lockdown."

Everyone gasped as fear began to set in. We were in danger, it was so sudden. Our teacher ran over and locked the door, also turning off the lights. I remembered something similar had happened before, but there was in fact no intruder in the school. This time, the announcement was all too certain. I looked over to Sarah and we began herding towards the teacher's desk, hoping everything would blow over.

For a few moments, all we had to entertain our fear were the brave jokers of the group being silenced by the fearful, and hopes the police would make their way here quick. This hope was shattered with the fall of heavy footsteps just outside the door.

We heard some muffled talking, proceeded by a period of silence. Then a pair of feet walked away, giving some a reclaimation of hope. A particularly brave student, one who always a cocky attitude behind his actions, walked over to the door.

The bastard fucked us all over. He looked out the window standing upright, and 2 seconds after that, we heard the crack. The shotgun shell shattered the window with ease and the cocky kid flew backwards, stained in blood. Through the window appeared a figure I'd never forget. He wore black jeans, a dark blue hoodie, and a black ski mask. He had a sawed shotgun in his hands, and he seemed skilled with it.

My mind saw the image and thought of Columbine. I didn't want this to happen again, I wouldn't let my friends in this school die like that. I figured my goal in life was to be remembered for something good, and now I felt I had my chance. The kid looked around and saw the group of students near the desk, huddled and fearful of their lives.

Our math teacher, though normally a calm man, was huge. He stood nearby the student, but out of his sight. When the student cockily went to get closer to us, the teacher flew forward and tackled him. He let loose a punch that knocked the kid out and might have broken his jaw. He did the innocent student good with that punch.





At first, I didn't ackowledge the hit had landed. It seemed so utterly impossible that Mr. Stevens could not only tackle a student, but punch him. Inconcievable to me and the rest of the class.

However, we hadn't taken into account poor Mr. Stevens' age. We'd been so entranced by Mr. Stevens' movements we hadn't heard the crack from the kid's pistol. It was difficult to hide, but Mr. Stevens had been grazed on the left side by a misaimed shot. He'd been hit once and grazed pretty heavily on the same side, the other casings going into the wall. Mr. Stevens fell backwards and grabbed his side, pain encasing his face.

Instinctively, a few of us ran over to him. Sarah, her friends Jennifer and Kiersten, tried to use anything available to dress and clothe Mr. Steven's wounds. I went to the shooter, along with my friends Dave, Kevin, and Jeff. We tried to consider what we should do, our only adolescent brains rattling.

"Well, we need to get Mr. Stevens to paramedics. We also can't stay in this classroom." I said to myself, looking over the kid's shattered jaw. Kevin gasped at my words, amazed at my finality.

"John, you crazy?! This kid can't be alone! There are probably a few other kids out there who are shooting to kill!" He said, his face pale with utter caution. He was obviously terrified by what was going on. One of us had to have a steady head, looked like it was my job.

"Look, the shots, broken glass, and their knocked out accomplice will bring them here no matter what. And Mr. Stevens is on a timer here. Look, I have a hunting license. I know how to handle guns properly. We need to get this class out of here before it's too late. If we can get to the first floor and out the doors, we're home free." I said, my body shaking. I began trying to think of my abilties, as insignificant as they were. I could fire a gun, I could handle the recoil. I could run for a while, but I had asthma. That might be a deciding factor.

"I'm coming with you." Jeff spoke up. I woke from my train of thought. I never expected the meek Jeff to willing undertake this. Well, never judge anyone till you've shed blood together. I smiled at him and reached into the kid's jacket. He had 2 pistols and a sawed off. I took a pistol, gave Jeff the other pistol, and Kevin the sawed off.

"Me and Jeff will go ahead. Everyone else follows us. Kevin, you stick to the back." The two nodded at me, as though this was a contract sealed with our souls. We were declaring our loyalty to our classmates, our lives as penalty. We each knew the consequences.

I stood up, looking at the other scattered students with determination.

"Follow us." I said. I opened the door slowly, sealing my fate. Time to rock.


I looked through the hallway, taking in a quick idea of what was going on. Stray lockers had been shot up, and smoke hissed from each individual. I began thinking of strategies on how to progress onward with safety. I noticed the bend to the right outside the door had the farthest locker open.

I lifted my left hand up flat, signaling my want for them not to move. I dashed from the room like I saw the skilled cops did, their guns pointing on the ground. I shifted and turned, slamming my back into the wall. I kept my eyes on the other students, listening with alarm to the hallway.

No noise. I motioned for the others to come to my position, and I ran down this new hallway, turning and stopping at the corner here. My blood froze when I heard voices.

"Damn, where is Isaac?" A stern, teenage voice spoke. I recognized the voice from the school news team. I never thought he would ever do anything like this. He had seemed innocent like most of the kids. Obviously, I had made a mistake in judgement.

"I don't know where that little bastard is." I heard this voice, but I would not recognize it. There was no way. How in the world could this be real? My mind wearily accepted it, and now understood how this went down.

I never suspected that the Social Studies teach Mr. Francis could be behind a massacre. I never had him myself, but my friends who did thought he was an awesome guy. They, too, had misjudged.

After allowing these two other shooter's existence, I realized they blocked the only way down to the first floor on this wing. I had to think of something, something fast. I need to stall them. I walked back to where the others were, and I looked at Jeff and Kevin. I pulled them close to me and whispered with speed and seriousness.

"Kevin, wait until the shots fire, then escort the kids down the stairway and out of the building. Jeff, we're going down as heroes."

I nodded, as Kevin and Jeff understood what I said. I looked at the huddled, semi-crouched classmates of mine, innocent and terrified. They didn't deserve this hell. I walked close to Sarah, who was one of the 3 girls helping Mr. Stevens walk.

"I love you."

I kissed her on the forehead and stared her in the eyes, making my point perfectly clear. I saw her eyes begin to grow watery. I smiled when I saw the tears, throwing her off a bit. I'd be glad she'll cry at my funeral.

I walked backwards and tapped Jeff on the shoulder. We began walking down the opposite hallway we had originally come from. We were going to circle around and distract the shooters. Two teenage boys for 20 others. It seemed like the best choice for us.

We neared where the two students stood, only a corner away from them. I looked at Jeff and smiled. He was a good friend, one of my rocker friends. He had shaggy hair and a pure smile. I'd miss him. He smiled back, and we both grasped our pistols.

I took aim at the wall nearby one of the shooters. "Son of a bitch, get out of my school!" I fired the shot and the teenager student flinched and turned at our direction, instinctively firing at us with his assualt rifle. We cursed and ran backwards, hearing the two gunners begin to chase after us. The beginning of the end, I thought to myself. I was going to enjoy this.


Shit. That's all I can really recall thinking the past 5 minutes. Everything else has been muscle reflexes and instinct. I've risked a lot, and right now, we've got the bastards trapped in a classroom. They might have bigger guns, but they underestimated us. However, I don't know how much longer I'll be able to hold out.

I'm praying to any and all dietical beings that one of the students called the police. I'm protected by only a few knocked over desks and chairs, one stray shot from death. My body is alive with this gripping cold that somehow makes me faster. I feel like a tool, my only purpose to stay here as long as possible. My life is a barrier for the others.

If I die, I hope I'm remembered as a hero. I look over at Kevin, who is bleeding pretty badly from the chest. I already ripped the sleeves off my coat and used them to bandage the wounds, but I don't really know how effective that is. Kevin deserves to live more than me.

"Kevin..." I whisper to him. With forced breathes, he looks over at me. His eyes are half-closed, and his face is red. I can't stand to look at him, so I watch the classroom with unblinking eyes.

"...Yeah?.." He releases, forced out with a sigh.

"There's a bathroom across the hall. Give me your pistol, go in there, and wash your wound off slowly. That way, it won't get infected." I command him, grabbing his pistol.

"John, you idiot...you're not standing alone."He tells me, anger rising.

"Of course not, man. I got God with me." I say firmly, which throws him heavily off-guard. I often reveal to others my Agnostic ideology.

"You idiot, you're agnostic. You don't know if God exists or not." He sputters, almost laughing at me.

"I'm willing to find out. Now give me the goddamn gun and go." I hit him on top of the head and point at the bathroom, at which he promtply runs over to. Mr. Francis fires crazily, and I stand up, getting grazed in the thigh. From what I could tell at the time, Kevin got away without a scratch. Guess God's out there somewhere.

The second I get hit, I feel the pain and react with shot after shot of my two pistols, each tightly in hand. I fall to my knees afterwards, rubbing the area. I hope they're concerned for their welfare, otherwise I wouldn't live for more than a few minutes.

Fading out of the distance, I hear sirens. Obviously they do, too, because a surge of cursing came from the classroom. I knew this was when they would try to escape, use everything they had.

I backed up a bit and stood semi-crouched, ready to try and avert myself from harm. I hear them shuffle about and cock their guns. Fear begins to overcome me, as though Death had his hand on my shoulder, eagerly watching.

They ran from the room and fired. I fired back. A few seconds of this is blurry, nothing in me but fury and trigger fingers. I remember throwing my arms in front of my face and chest, hoping it would save me. I remember the searing pain of the bullets clawing through me. I heard myself scream. And that's it.


I hope you're real, God. I'd love to see the others again.


The test of time offers no what-ifs. What happens is what does and while the human mind may try to see alternate realities; they are not the reality at hand. Because of this, people wish to escape the confines of this singular dimension and create a new one, only realizing too late that their participation is what continues to give the dimension its form. Life is predestined by people’s struggles to change predestination. So it is, and so it shall be...



My body is exhausted. It’s been like this for quite a bit. I just woke up from a life-long sleep. I remember nothing but bits and fragments of what I did before waking up. Kind of…like becoming a new person. Though, I didn’t know being rebirth was painful.
I kind of lied there for what seemed like forever, trying to take the unconnected pieces of my memory click together. I’ve been awake for 325 big hand clock rotations. I’m starting to feel heavier, my body and my eyes.
T he room I'm in is rather pretty. I'm not allowed to go outside it, but I don't want to. All the flowers around the room make it like my own personal paradise, regardless of the pain. I've got wrapped holes all over my body. I have several in my arms, especially my left one.
I reached over and turned on the television, flipping on the news channel. Hmm, they just said the name of my school. I zone into the sounds from the screen, trying to dechipher what I can.

"...7 died total in this horrific massacre, as has already been confirmed. 10 others were wounded. Shocking new evidence has come forward revealing the motives of the two student shooters and their teacher. The teacher, Reginald Francis, had a deep hatred for the students in faculty for the school. He had persuaded the two young students, Isaac Frost and Tim Anderson, to mimic his own rage at the other students in the school. He used their insecurities and teenage anger to build up a hatred for the school, inciting a wanton path of destruction.

However, this report is not all sordid. Thanks to the efforts of brave faculty members and students, a large body of students was protected from the onslaught the shooters had imagined. Two especially brave students, John Friday and Kevin Gonzano, used the shooter's own weapons to delay them until officials arrived. Gonzano recieved two shots, one to the left leg and to the chest, while Friday suffered extensive wounds totalling a number of 10 bullets. Miraculously, they and their teacher Mr. Stevens survived without permanent injury or disability.

The students are expected to be charged as adults, and the teacher is expected to recieve life in prison or the death penalty. More on this tragic story, at 6."

I chuckled and hit the button on the plastic remote, shutting off the TV. I guess it turns out I didn't have to die and I was considered a hero. Maybe when they let me out of this accursed hospital I'll go for a walk, and try and enjoy the rest of my life. I guess, this put into perspective how you only live once.

I wonder how weird this is going to make school. One things for sure, I'll be considered badass for the rest of my life. That's pretty cool.




(Last edited by Cairoi on 03-30-06 12:30 AM)
Katana

Dark Wizard
\"She said tonight...come on come on collide...see what I fire feels like..I bet its just like heaven.\"








Since: 08-15-04
From: Philadelphia, P.A.

Since last post: 1554 days
Last activity: 1372 days
Posted on 03-21-06 06:16 PM Link | Quote
Wow. A skilled writer we've got here.

When I was first reading it, I thought this was going to be a completely true story. **shrugs** You did tell me about your school having a lockdown before because they thought someone had intruded...right? Teehee...funny...and we had a lockdown my freshman year...over what? Stolen laptops. XD

Well, I'm interested, so write more.
Bitmap

#1 Enhancement Shaman US Ravenholdt








Since: 09-05-04
From: His Laughin' Place

Since last post: 4556 days
Last activity: 4550 days
Posted on 03-21-06 08:03 PM Link | Quote
How entertaining...and I found it remarkable on how you subjected the characters point of view...

Im actually shocked that the teacher would go out and knock the kid out without him getting blasted...But, Heroic as he was, that was a pretty nifty conclusion to this work...

Great Job, I expect more
Cairoi
This isn't about you and your loud mouth,
This is about me and my fucking beard.








Since: 08-29-04
From: PA

Since last post: 4848 days
Last activity: 4472 days
Posted on 03-23-06 04:10 PM Link | Quote
At first, I didn't ackowledge the hit had landed. It seemed so utterly impossible that Mr. Stevens could not only tackle a student, but punch him. Inconcievable to me and the rest of the class.

However, we hadn't taken into account poor Mr. Stevens' age. We'd been so entranced by Mr. Stevens' movements we hadn't heard the crack from the kid's pistol. It was difficult to hide, but Mr. Stevens had been grazed on the left side by a misaimed shot. He'd been hit once and grazed pretty heavily on the same side, the other casings going into the wall. Mr. Stevens fell backwards and grabbed his side, pain encasing his face.

Instinctively, a few of us ran over to him. Sarah, her friends Jennifer and Kiersten, tried to use anything available to dress and clothe Mr. Steven's wounds. I went to the shooter, along with my friends Dave, Kevin, and Jeff. We tried to consider what we should do, our only adolescent brains rattling.

"Well, we need to get Mr. Stevens to paramedics. We also can't stay in this classroom." I said to myself, looking over the kid's shattered jaw. Kevin gasped at my words, amazed at my finality.

"John, you crazy?! This kid can't be alone! There are probably a few other kids out there who are shooting to kill!" He said, his face pale with utter caution. He was obviously terrified by what was going on. One of us had to have a steady head, looked like it was my job.

"Look, the shots, broken glass, and their knocked out accomplice will bring them here no matter what. And Mr. Stevens is on a timer here. Look, I have a hunting license. I know how to handle guns properly. We need to get this class out of here before it's too late. If we can get to the first floor and out the doors, we're home free." I said, my body shaking. I began trying to think of my abilties, as insignificant as they were. I could fire a gun, I could handle the recoil. I could run for a while, but I had asthma. That might be a deciding factor.

"I'm coming with you." Jeff spoke up. I woke from my train of thought. I never expected the meek Jeff to willing undertake this. Well, never judge anyone till you've shed blood together. I smiled at him and reached into the kid's jacket. He had 2 pistols and a sawed off. I took a pistol, gave Jeff the other pistol, and Kevin the sawed off.

"Me and Jeff will go ahead. Everyone else follows us. Kevin, you stick to the back." The two nodded at me, as though this was a contract sealed with our souls. We were declaring our loyalty to our classmates, our lives as penalty. We each knew the consequences.

I stood up, looking at the other scattered students with determination.

"Follow us." I said. I opened the door slowly, sealing my fate. Time to rock.


(Last edited by Cairoi on 03-25-06 12:15 AM)
Trigger Happy Jones









Since: 02-21-06
From: It's not hell... But it sure feels like it. *sweating*

Since last post: 6698 days
Last activity: 6698 days
Posted on 03-24-06 05:19 PM Link | Quote
Good story, Cairoi! I can't wait for the rest.
Bitmap

#1 Enhancement Shaman US Ravenholdt








Since: 09-05-04
From: His Laughin' Place

Since last post: 4556 days
Last activity: 4550 days
Posted on 03-24-06 07:39 PM Link | Quote
You would think that the kids will be cought by the police because they now have guns...and by the way...How the hell did they obtain all of those guns from inside the classroom?

Other than that, the suspence is killing me...I wonder what happens next...
Cairoi
This isn't about you and your loud mouth,
This is about me and my fucking beard.








Since: 08-29-04
From: PA

Since last post: 4848 days
Last activity: 4472 days
Posted on 03-24-06 10:17 PM Link | Quote
I looked through the hallway, taking in a quick idea of what was going on. Stray lockers had been shot up, and smoke hissed from each individual. I began thinking of strategies on how to progress onward with safety. I noticed the bend to the right outside the door had the farthest locker open.

I lifted my left hand up flat, signaling my want for them not to move. I dashed from the room like I saw the skilled cops did, their guns pointing on the ground. I shifted and turned, slamming my back into the wall. I kept my eyes on the other students, listening with alarm to the hallway.

No noise. I motioned for the others to come to my position, and I ran down this new hallway, turning and stopping at the corner here. My blood froze when I heard voices.

"Damn, where is Isaac?" A stern, teenage voice spoke. I recognized the voice from the school news team. I never thought he would ever do anything like this. He had seemed innocent like most of the kids. Obviously, I had made a mistake in judgement.

"I don't know where that little bastard is." I heard this voice, but I would not recognize it. There was no way. How in the world could this be real? My mind wearily accepted it, and now understood how this went down.

I never suspected that the Social Studies teach Mr. Francis could be behind a massacre. I never had him myself, but my friends who did thought he was an awesome guy. They, too, had misjudged.

After allowing these two other shooter's existence, I realized they blocked the only way down to the first floor on this wing. I had to think of something, something fast. I need to stall them. I walked back to where the others were, and I looked at Jeff and Kevin. I pulled them close to me and whispered with speed and seriousness.

"Kevin, wait until the shots fire, then escort the kids down the stairway and out of the building. Jeff, we're going down as heroes."

I nodded, as Kevin and Jeff understood what I said. I looked at the huddled, semi-crouched classmates of mine, innocent and terrified. They didn't deserve this hell. I walked close to Sarah, who was one of the 3 girls helping Mr. Stevens walk.

"I love you."

I kissed her on the forehead and stared her in the eyes, making my point perfectly clear. I saw her eyes begin to grow watery. I smiled when I saw the tears, throwing her off a bit. I'd be glad she'll cry at my funeral.

I walked backwards and tapped Jeff on the shoulder. We began walking down the opposite hallway we had originally come from. We were going to circle around and distract the shooters. Two teenage boys for 20 others. It seemed like the best choice for us.

We neared where the two students stood, only a corner away from them. I looked at Jeff and smiled. He was a good friend, one of my rocker friends. He had shaggy hair and a pure smile. I'd miss him. He smiled back, and we both grasped our pistols.

I took aim at the wall nearby one of the shooters. "Son of a bitch, get out of my school!" I fired the shot and the teenager student flinched and turned at our direction, instinctively firing at us with his assualt rifle. We cursed and ran backwards, hearing the two gunners begin to chase after us. The beginning of the end, I thought to myself. I was going to enjoy this.


(Last edited by Cairoi on 03-25-06 01:19 AM)
Bitmap

#1 Enhancement Shaman US Ravenholdt








Since: 09-05-04
From: His Laughin' Place

Since last post: 4556 days
Last activity: 4550 days
Posted on 03-24-06 10:42 PM Link | Quote
HOW DARE YOU END THE CHAPTER LIKE THIS!!!!!!

Dude...seriously, I need to read more....And I cant believe...

Spoiler:
A TEACHER????


Thats insane...POST DAMNIT


(Last edited by Sajin of the Gorotto Sea on 03-25-06 01:43 AM)
Elara

Divine Mamkute
Dark Elf Goddess
Chaos Imp
Penguins Fan

Ms. Invisable








Since: 08-15-04
From: Ferelden

Since last post: 99 days
Last activity: 99 days
Posted on 03-24-06 11:06 PM Link | Quote
Your plot is indeed very gripping and realistic in many ways. I did notice a few grammatical errors here and there, but they can be easily fixed. Overall, I am rather impressed with your skill Cairoi and look forward to reading the rest of this.

Oh yes, most importantly: Damn you for having a cliff hanger ending for the last installment! I hate cliff hangers SO bad when I have to wait for the next part!
Cairoi
This isn't about you and your loud mouth,
This is about me and my fucking beard.








Since: 08-29-04
From: PA

Since last post: 4848 days
Last activity: 4472 days
Posted on 03-24-06 11:10 PM Link | Quote
^.^ Okay guys, to mess with you, this isn't a story post, but I thought I'd contribute anyway.

Everybody, thanks for the kudos. I seriously have had dreams of this happening so many times I decided to write something about it. And Elara, the grammatical errors are probably due to the fact this is a constant stream of thought. I'm just writing as it comes to me.

I'm a little touchy on the next two installments, because they're going to be large and conclusive. They should be up tommorow.

Once again guys, thanks. ^.^
Elara

Divine Mamkute
Dark Elf Goddess
Chaos Imp
Penguins Fan

Ms. Invisable








Since: 08-15-04
From: Ferelden

Since last post: 99 days
Last activity: 99 days
Posted on 03-24-06 11:58 PM Link | Quote
*filler kitty creeps silently across the page so that Cairoi can continue posting*

If they are not up tomorrow I will be upset, and then shall hunt you down and beat you with a frozen tuna fish until you post.
Bitmap

#1 Enhancement Shaman US Ravenholdt








Since: 09-05-04
From: His Laughin' Place

Since last post: 4556 days
Last activity: 4550 days
Posted on 03-25-06 12:11 AM Link | Quote
Originally posted by Elara
*filler kitty creeps silently across the page so that Cairoi can continue posting*



Post or this kitty will.....



Im having too much fun with this forum fun thing...Ill stop....

Anyways, you never answered my question on how they got the guns from the classroom....



(Last edited by Sajin of the Gorotto Sea on 03-25-06 03:11 AM)
Elara

Divine Mamkute
Dark Elf Goddess
Chaos Imp
Penguins Fan

Ms. Invisable








Since: 08-15-04
From: Ferelden

Since last post: 99 days
Last activity: 99 days
Posted on 03-25-06 01:24 AM Link | Quote
If I read correctly, they took them from the shooter kid that the teacher knocked out.

... and did you have to threaten the poor kitty?
Cairoi
This isn't about you and your loud mouth,
This is about me and my fucking beard.








Since: 08-29-04
From: PA

Since last post: 4848 days
Last activity: 4472 days
Posted on 03-27-06 05:55 PM Link | Quote
OOC: Guys, I'm seriously sorry. Personal matters blew up in my face, and I couldn't even get to a computer.



Shit. That's all I can really recall thinking the past 5 minutes. Everything else has been muscle reflexes and instinct. I've risked a lot, and right now, we've got the bastards trapped in a classroom. They might have bigger guns, but they underestimated us. However, I don't know how much longer I'll be able to hold out.

I'm praying to any and all dietical beings that one of the students called the police. I'm protected by only a few knocked over desks and chairs, one stray shot from death. My body is alive with this gripping cold that somehow makes me faster. I feel like a tool, my only purpose to stay here as long as possible. My life is a barrier for the others.

If I die, I hope I'm remembered as a hero. I look over at Kevin, who is bleeding pretty badly from the chest. I already ripped the sleeves off my coat and used them to bandage the wounds, but I don't really know how effective that is. Kevin deserves to live more than me.

"Kevin..." I whisper to him. With forced breathes, he looks over at me. His eyes are half-closed, and his face is red. I can't stand to look at him, so I watch the classroom with unblinking eyes.

"...Yeah?.." He releases, forced out with a sigh.

"There's a bathroom across the hall. Give me your pistol, go in there, and wash your wound off slowly. That way, it won't get infected." I command him, grabbing his pistol.

"John, you idiot...you're not standing alone."He tells me, anger rising.

"Of course not, man. I got God with me." I say firmly, which throws him heavily off-guard. I often reveal to others my Agnostic ideology.

"You idiot, you're agnostic. You don't know if God exists or not." He sputters, almost laughing at me.

"I'm willing to find out. Now give me the goddamn gun and go." I hit him on top of the head and point at the bathroom, at which he promtply runs over to. Mr. Francis fires crazily, and I stand up, getting grazed in the thigh. From what I could tell at the time, Kevin got away without a scratch. Guess God's out there somewhere.

The second I get hit, I feel the pain and react with shot after shot of my two pistols, each tightly in hand. I fall to my knees afterwards, rubbing the area. I hope they're concerned for their welfare, otherwise I wouldn't live for more than a few minutes.

Fading out of the distance, I hear sirens. Obviously they do, too, because a surge of cursing came from the classroom. I knew this was when they would try to escape, use everything they had.

I backed up a bit and stood semi-crouched, ready to try and avert myself from harm. I hear them shuffle about and cock their guns. Fear begins to overcome me, as though Death had his hand on my shoulder, eagerly watching.

They ran from the room and fired. I fired back. A few seconds of this is blurry, nothing in me but fury and trigger fingers. I remember throwing my arms in front of my face and chest, hoping it would save me. I remember the searing pain of the bullets clawing through me. I heard myself scream. And that's it.


I hope you're real, God. I'd love to see the others again.
Elara

Divine Mamkute
Dark Elf Goddess
Chaos Imp
Penguins Fan

Ms. Invisable








Since: 08-15-04
From: Ferelden

Since last post: 99 days
Last activity: 99 days
Posted on 03-27-06 09:50 PM Link | Quote
What the fuck... did you just kill the main character? Is that it? Oh you are so cruel!
Cairoi
This isn't about you and your loud mouth,
This is about me and my fucking beard.








Since: 08-29-04
From: PA

Since last post: 4848 days
Last activity: 4472 days
Posted on 03-27-06 10:34 PM Link | Quote
And now, the FINAL installment of the story.



The test of time offers no what-ifs. What happens is what does and while the human mind may try to see alternate realities; they are not the reality at hand. Because of this, people wish to escape the confines of this singular dimension and create a new one, only realizing too late that their participation is what continues to give the dimension its form. Life is predestined by people’s struggles to change predestination. So it is, and so it shall be...



My body is exhausted. It’s been like this for quite a bit. I just woke up from a life-long sleep. I remember nothing but bits and fragments of what I did before waking up. Kind of…like becoming a new person. Though, I didn’t know being rebirth was painful.
I kind of lied there for what seemed like forever, trying to take the unconnected pieces of my memory click together. I’ve been awake for 325 big hand clock rotations. I’m starting to feel heavier, my body and my eyes.
T he room I'm in is rather pretty. I'm not allowed to go outside it, but I don't want to. All the flowers around the room make it like my own personal paradise, regardless of the pain. I've got wrapped holes all over my body. I have several in my arms, especially my left one.
I reached over and turned on the television, flipping on the news channel. Hmm, they just said the name of my school. I zone into the sounds from the screen, trying to dechipher what I can.

"...7 died total in this horrific massacre, as has already been confirmed. 10 others were wounded. Shocking new evidence has come forward revealing the motives of the two student shooters and their teacher. The teacher, Reginald Francis, had a deep hatred for the students in faculty for the school. He had persuaded the two young students, Isaac Frost and Tim Anderson, to mimic his own rage at the other students in the school. He used their insecurities and teenage anger to build up a hatred for the school, inciting a wanton path of destruction.

However, this report is not all sordid. Thanks to the efforts of brave faculty members and students, a large body of students was protected from the onslaught the shooters had imagined. Two especially brave students, John Friday and Kevin Gonzano, used the shooter's own weapons to delay them until officials arrived. Gonzano recieved two shots, one to the left leg and to the chest, while Friday suffered extensive wounds totalling a number of 10 bullets. Miraculously, they and their teacher Mr. Stevens survived without permanent injury or disability.

The students are expected to be charged as adults, and the teacher is expected to recieve life in prison or the death penalty. More on this tragic story, at 6."

I chuckled and hit the button on the plastic remote, shutting off the TV. I guess it turns out I didn't have to die and I was considered a hero. Maybe when they let me out of this accursed hospital I'll go for a walk, and try and enjoy the rest of my life. I guess, this put into perspective how you only live once.

I wonder how weird this is going to make school. One things for sure, I'll be considered badass for the rest of my life. That's pretty cool.
Elara

Divine Mamkute
Dark Elf Goddess
Chaos Imp
Penguins Fan

Ms. Invisable








Since: 08-15-04
From: Ferelden

Since last post: 99 days
Last activity: 99 days
Posted on 03-28-06 02:56 AM Link | Quote
Ah good, I don't have to kill you now. A happy ending after all... awesome story!
Bitmap

#1 Enhancement Shaman US Ravenholdt








Since: 09-05-04
From: His Laughin' Place

Since last post: 4556 days
Last activity: 4550 days
Posted on 03-28-06 09:07 AM Link | Quote
What an awesome way to end a story...a young hero calling himself of what the youth today call "Bad-ass"...

It was excellent, I really enjoyed it
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