well. I started this a while ago. and I feel like I rushed to finish it. but I wanted to get it done so I could dedicate it to all those college kids down at Virginia Tech. so I hope you enjoy it. even though the second half is kind of rushed. and the ending pretty much sucks, because I couldn't think of how to put it. But I hope you enjoy it. No flames please, they'll make me very unhappy. Enjoy :)

Side of a Bullet

By: Fig

dedicated to all the victims of teen suicide and school shootings.

especially those killed and injured in the virginia tech shooting.

based on the song side of a bullet, by nickelback

day one

7:36 AM

I hum softly to myself as I stroll down the crowded school hallway. I’m supposed to meet him at my locker for our first period class. But he’s not there.

I glance around the hall, thinking I may have missed him. But he’s not to be found. Shrugging, I collect my books and head to class anyway, figuring he’s going to be late again.

8:49 AM

He didn’t show up to Media. He’s either very late or he’s sick. I decide to vote on the notion that he’s sick. “Yes,” I tell myself, “Yes he’s sick.”

The teacher is passing out last week’s quizzes when the school secretary comes over the intercom.

“Please excuse the interruption. Could we please have the ninth grade students report to the auditorium? Thank you.”

I grin. I’m getting out of Geometry. This is great. I laugh as I imagine his reaction. He hates Geometry.

8:52 AM

I settle into a seat in the back of the auditorium and wait for the principal to start talking.

Another one of my friends taps me on the shoulder and we start talking. We don’t notice the activity going on upon the stage until a clear gun shot rings through the entire room.

My head whips around as others scream around me.

I swing myself off of my seat and onto the floor as fast as I possibly can, grabbing another girl’s sleeve and yanking her down next to me.

She’s shaking and she tries to blink away the tears streaming down her face.

I hesitantly lean around the aisle. It’s a frightening sight, not one I’d prefer to describe.

Shakily, I reach for the girl’s hand and pull her out into the aisle, whispering that we should run and try to make it to the office. She nods vigorously and we take off at full speed. I wasn’t aware I could run this fast.

I yank open the auditorium door and hear a bullet zing past slamming into the door. The girl screams but we’re already in the hall.

The halls are full of running students, mostly in groups or pairs all scurrying out of the building. We follow them into the school yard. Half the school is already outside, waiting for further instruction.

My friend, the one who was sitting behind me, taps me yet again, this time with greater urgency.

“Did you see anything?” She asks me.

I shake my head, “No. Just…a lot of…err…”

She nods in understanding, “Yeah.”

I hear sirens and soon see ambulances pouring into the parking lot. A lot of the kids are freaked out.

A lot of them are trying to find sisters and brothers and cousins or friends.

It’s a good thing he was sick today. He’ll get a kick out of this…

I almost smile, almost.

day two

7:18 AM

I scramble around my bedroom to find my favorite pair of shoes.

“MOM!” I yell down the stairs.

She doesn’t answer.

“MOM” I yell louder.

Infuriated, I storm downstairs.

“M-” I begin to yell as I reach the kitchen. But I stop. My mother and father are both sitting at the table, both looking extremely serious and…almost sad, which makes me incredibly nervous.

“Sit down,” My father tells me. I refuse.

My father opens his mouth to speak, and then shuts it again. I stare from my mother to my father and back again.

“What’s going on?” I ask tentatively.

My mother sighs, slow and shaky, and points a shaky finger at the front page article of the town newspaper.

10:27 AM

I didn’t go to school.

I’m still in disbelief and shock.

And what I still don’t understand is that he was so depressed so utterly disturbed that he made the decision to take the rest of the ninth grade’s lives away, including his best friend, just to take the pain away.

Well obviously it worked; he took his own pain away. And caused the pain of so many others.

I wonder, was that his intention?

I shiver. How could this happen? He’d always seemed so…so happy. So full of energy. And I wonder, was that all a disguise?

He killed fourteen. Fourteen innocent kids.

I bury my face in my knees. I just can’t take this in. My best friend killed fourteen – erm fifteen – people in a matter of minutes.

And the worst of it all, I doubt he even cared.

3:43 PM

I pick the phone up cautiously; worried it might be his brother or his parents calling to see how I was or something of the sort. It wasn’t.

It was the girl I’d been talking to yesterday shortly before the – erm – shooting.

“Hey,” She greets gently, sympathy rushing through her voice, “How are you?”

“I’m okay I guess,” I mumble. I am not okay at all.

“God, I can’t believe it,” She says, and I can hear her shaking her head against the phone.

“I know,” I agree. Try being the murderer’s best friend.

“I’m worried about his brother,” She tells me.

I agree quietly. I’m worried too.

“And his parents, oh my God, his parents.”

“And all the other kids parents,” I add. So many kids were in hospitals… and some were in morgues.

“I just can’t believe he did it. I mean, I didn’t see it coming. So unexpected. We’re just lucky we weren’t hurt right?”

“Yeah… yeah I guess.” I say.

She’s wrong. We were all hurt. Some of us lost friends, some of us lost siblings. Some of us lost hope.

day three

12:03 AM

I sit on my bed. The lights are off. I can’t sleep. My friends have been calling me all day wondering if I’m okay. I want to tell them I’m not. But I don’t. This has me wondering about his brother. His brother is in the tenth grade. He’s an amazing kid and he’s probably crushed.

Not remembering that it’s midnight and normal people are asleep I grab my phone off the stand and search through my contacts until I find him.

I press send.

And wait.

Three rings.

Voicemail.

I sigh.

And then I press the re-dial button.

Two rings.

“Hello?” A groggy voice asks, clearly disgruntled.

My voice catches in my throat. He sounds so much like him.

“Hello?”

I clear my throat, “Uh, hi.”

Silence on the other end.

Then, “Hi.”

“What’s up?” I ask.

“The ceiling. I was sleeping.”

I would have laughed. But I don’t.

“I know.”

“Okay. Just so we’re both aware of that.”

I wonder how he can be so, so carefree. And I wonder why I’m not like that. Oh yeah, my best friend just killed five people. But his brother did the same.

“Are you okay?” He asks me.

“No,” I state plainly.

“Me neither.”

I smile slightly.

one week later

9:27 AM

I stand in a crowded church. Fifteen coffins stand in a line at the front of the church.

His is the one in the center.

His brother stands next to me. I was allowed to sit with the family, only because his family treated me like it. My parents sit directly behind me.

I glance around. I notice the girl I saved a few pews away with a group of her friends. Tears are streaming down her face. I know we could’ve been two of them.

I glance behind me. The entire school is here. Even the ones you wouldn’t think would show up in a million years.

And I start to think. Maybe, even though this was horrible, maybe it kind of…brought us all together. We’re all here for different reasons. Whether one of the victims was a friend of ours or not.

And whether anyone wants to admit it or not, this brought us together.

It brought us together.

And I think, maybe, that was his intention after all. Well, perhaps not his intention, but his wish. Maybe his wish was to bring together every different person of our student body. To bring everyone together, every different group and have us all be one.

Maybe.

three weeks later

10:10 AM

The wind whips my hair away from my face. The day is warm and sunny, but windy.

I stand beside the girl I saved. We’ve become fairly good friends.

The principle is talking.

Some big company donated money to our school to buy a memorial in memory of the students killed.

And as the principle lists off the list of students killed, I reach for the girl’s hand. She smiles at me before turning back to face the memorial.

A lot of people are crying around me.

But I don’t cry today.

I smile.

I smile because I’ve finally realized.

I’ve finally realized that while he took the lives of the other kids to free himself he brought a great thing to our school.

He brought us together.