A/N: Another story….lol. Okay, this story was initially being written in the first person, but then I realized, if she can’t hear, nun of ya would know what the hell was goin on, cause neitha would she. So, the audience knows more’n the character…lol, Dawn. Dramatic irony. Anyhoo, on to the story before I talk till the coming of the apocalypse…lol. My line.

WARNING: Rated R for violence…in other words, this is a school shooting…put 2 and 2 together. Blood, yup. Also rated for language (lots…*grins*) and um, not so much for sexual content as for violence….but, oh well. Just in case.

DISCLAIMER: MY STORY! You steal, I beat you so hard that when you wake up, you clothes will be out of style, AND you’ll be slapped with a huge law suit. I’m serious.

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Can’t Believe

By Jenna

Chapter One

            She awoke that morning with a sense of foreboding. She hated school, so she generally had a gloomy cloud of dread hanging about her every morning. But this was different. She knew this would be a day that she would long to regret her entire life. Though she had no idea how truly terrible it would be.

            Savannah Matthews grumbled at her ringing alarm clock as her fingers clumsily fumbled about her nightstand, trying to find the noisemaker. Finally, they landed on the cold, hard metal. She held onto the little hammer to keep it from clanking against the bells as she brought it towards her. She pushed the little black button down so that it was in the off position.

            Savannah was never a morning person. She reached over to her stereo and turned on her music, guitars and vocals of Staind flowing from the speakers. Savannah threw off her blankets as she slowly stood up. Teetering on her sleepy legs as she hobbled towards the door, she tugged the edge of her black tank top down to meet her bright red pj pants. She flipped the lights on.

            Temporarily blinded, she groped around the wall for a bit before her fingertips met her brass doorknob. She turned it and tottered down the already lit hallway.

            Greg, being the morning person that he was, Savannah knew had already been up for awhile. But hey, she loved the guy. How couldn’t she have? He was her other half. One of the few people in this world that Savannah trusted besides her friends. She trusted him with her life.

            Granted, her twin brother was different from her in many more ways than one, but they had shared a womb for nine months. Their brains were on similar wavelengths, and they could sense each others feelings without difficulty. Their hearts beat close to, if not the same rhythm. They were closer than most siblings their age. They were friends.

            “Good morning, Savannah,” Greg said cheerfully as he strode down the hallway.

            “Blah,” Savannah answered, her face, unfortunately for her, turned towards him, even though she’d kept walking.

            Smack!  She walked right into the bathroom door, just as she’d turned to look in front of her. Savannah turned and wrinkled her bumped nose at him. Greg laughed, his evergreen eyes lightning up. His short, curly brown hair was rarely neat, and today was no exception. It looked good on him though.

            “Ouch,” she stated grouchily.

            “Sorry about that,” Greg said, flashing a smile at her before he turned and walked down the stairs.

            Savannah shook her head as she entered the bathroom, rubbing her sore nose. My bad day is already starting, she thought as she twisted the knob in the shower to turn on the warm water. She quickly showered before running to her room and getting dressed in her usual baggy, dark clothing. It wasn’t too big, but it wasn’t that skin-tight junk that most of the populars wore, either. She stuffed her feet into her flip flops, turned off her stereo, transferring the CD to her portable CD player and into her backpack that went, and walked beck into the bathroom. Savannah’s dark hair fell in ringlets down to her lower back. Her evergreen eyes were much the same as her brother’s, only more feminine. She had to brush her hair quickly, while it was still wet. She shook her head, to get as much of the moisture out as possible, and to aid in waking her brain up. But, unfortunately for her, Savannah only succeeded in making herself dizzy. So she toweled her hair dry instead.

            She went downstairs to find her brother standing in the kitchen, drinking orange juice right out of the carton. He was right in front of the refrigerator, with the door still wide open. Typical teenage boy.

            “Busted,” Savannah jeered with a smile. Greg almost choked on his orange juice. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gave her a lopsided grin.

            “Want some?” Greg asked, holding out the carton.

            “Well, we have the same saliva…” I said, looking contemplative. “But then again, you’ve shared yours.”

            “Just because I’ve made out with people and you haven’t is no reason to be jealous or disgusted. I can’t help it that everybody loves me,” Greg joked. Savannah laughed and snatched the carton from him, taking a swig.

            Greg was quite popular with the girls, and one could think it was the fact that he was a twin that fascinated them all. But hey, the boy was happy. Savannah poured the orange juice in a glass this time, before drinking it. Greg took one more gulp from the carton before placing it back in the fridge.

            “Ew, backwash,” Savannah laughed. “Mom’s not going to like that, you know.”

            “She won’t find out if you don’t tell,” Greg said.

            “Who’s going to stop me?” Savannah asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms under her chest.

            “Weeelll,” Greg said, looking innocent. “I guess I’ll just have to kill you then.”

            Savannah shrieked as Greg lunged at her and started tickling her.

            “No! Stop! Not Fair!” Savannah cried between giggles. Finally, Greg stopped tickling her, laughing. “You meany, you!” Savannah laughed, sticking her tongue out at him.

            “What can I say?” Greg ask. “I have a gift.” Savannah rolled her eyes at him, though she was smiling.

            Just then, a car horn honked in the driveway. It was one of the twins’ best friends, Jack. He gave them a ride to school every morning, as he was a year older. Savannah and Jack had gone out for a time the year before, when she was a freshman. Now she and Greg were sophomores.

            “Bye Mom! Bye Dad!” Greg and Savannah chorused as they grabbed their backpacks and dashed out the door, their parent’s responses coming just before the door swung shut behind them.

            “Hey Jack,” Savannah said as she clambered into the back seat.

            “Hey, Savannah,” came his reply.

            “God, I’m so glad that school’s almost over,” Greg grumbled.

            “One more month, then we’re freeeeee!” Savannah cried as Jack pulled out of the driveway.

            “Free only temporarily, you mean,” Jack corrected her.

            “Oh, you suck. You just had to ruin that rare moment of euphoria, didn’t you?” Savannah joked.

            “Hey, that’s my job,” Jack answered. It wasn’t long before they pulled into the school parking lot.

            “Wait a second, you guys. Do any of you have a weird feeling about today?” Savannah asked them.

            “No.” Jack.

            “Yes,” Greg answered.

            “Eh, it must be a twin thing. I’m sure it’s nothing. You both probably drank some Kool-Aid last night,” Jack sighed, putting the SUV into Park. Savannah and Greg were allergic to Kool-Aid, for some bizarre reason. It upset their stomachs.

            “Nope. No Kool-Aid,” Greg said. Jack shrugged. Greg and Savannah had all of the same classes, but Jack, being a junior, didn’t have any with them except lunch. Lunch was their favorite subject.

            Savannah went off to her locker, and Greg and Jack off to theirs, all on different floors.

            “Hey, Marianne,” Savannah called up the hallway as her best friend came down the hall. Marianne, more commonly called Marie, was tall. She had long, straight blond hair, but she’d died the tips jet black. Her blue eyes could be as friendly as the summer sky one moment, ice cold as a gray winter storm the next.

            “Hey, Savannah. Off to French, huh?” Marianne asked as she approached Savannah’s locker.

            “Yeah. You have…Spanish now, right?” Savannah quizzed.

            “Mm hmm,” Marianne answered with a nod. “We’ll walk there when you’ve got your stuff. Do we have a test in Bio today?”

            “Oh shit! I forgot about that!” Savannah hissed, smacking herself in the forehead with the palm of her hand.

            “You always do better when you don’t study anyways,” Marianne snorted. “I don’t know how you do it.”

            “As Greg always says; what can I say? I have a gift,” Savannah joked. French droned on, as usual. Geometry was never fun, either. Savannah flew through the test in Bio. During English, she absentmindedly tapped a pencil on her desk, eagerly awaiting lunch. Finally the bell rang. She, Greg, Parker, and Raymond, all in the same English class, headed off to lunch. There, at their table in the cafeteria, they met Jack, Marianne, and Marianne’s boyfriend, Tom. That was the extent of their clique. Seven anti-socials.

            “Why does McKentire always give such whacked bio quizzes?” Marianne moaned.

            “I didn’t think it was that hard,” Savannah shrugged.

            “You smart little booger you,” Parker teased.

            “Did you just say booger?” Tom laughed. “I don’t think any of us have said that since fifth grade!”

            “I was being sarcastic, nimrod,” Parker stated, shaking his head.

            “I think only same-sex siblings must fight,” Greg observed. “Savannah and I don’t fight. Not a real fight. But Tom, you and Parker always fight.”

            “Maybe it’s because I’m older than baby Parker, here,” Tom teased.

            “Are you calling me a baby too?” Raymond asked, trying his best to look aghast.

            “What about me?” Savannah asked, faking a pout and batting her eyes. “Am I a baby, too?”

            “No, my darling,” Jack teased her. Savannah stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed. “Keep that up and I’ll bite it off.” Savannah immediately stopped. But she grinned at him.

            “I don’t get it. You two broke up last year, but you still flirt,” Marianne said to them. Jack and Savannah looked at each other, then burst out laughing. Sure, there was still a romantic interest between them, but it wasn’t meant to be just then, and they accepted that.

            “Whatever,” Savannah laughed. The bell rang, and they all moaned.

            “Off to the wonderful world of history,” Greg sighed. All of the sophmores of their clique, all five of them, headed off to history, while the two juniors headed off to their classes.

            Carlton High was a rather big school, lots of students, most of them devoted pop followers. It was in the outskirts of San Francisco, California. No suburbs. Just steep hills, houses packed right smack next to one another, and Alkatraz. Lombard Street was always fun. They all called it “The Crookedest Street in the World.”

            History class ended, and soon Savannah and Greg headed off to study hall. Normally, they went to one of the computer labs during study hall. But they didn’t that day. Their study hall was in the library. What a big mistake that was.

            “No sign language lessons today?” Savannah asked as they plopped their books down and slumped into chairs at the same table.

            “Nope. They got cancelled. Ms. Demmingway got sick,” Greg answered. They had sign language lessons after school.

            “Shall we practice then?” Savannah suggested.

            {Sure, why not?} Greg signed. 

            {What shall we talk about?} Savannah asked.

            {The evils of society. Of course.} Greg grinned as his hands quickly made the sentence. The two noticed a bunch of senior boys, these in particular thinking themselves above everyone, start picking on a freshman boy.

            {Well there’s a topic,} Savannah said, sighing as her hands stopped moving. “Why are they always so mean to Harold?” Savannah used her voice to ask that.

            {I have no idea. So, the topic today. Bullying in the schools.} As Greg signed this, a huge explosive bang rang through the air. Savannah screamed, and she and Greg jumped up and looked over in the direction that the bang had come from. Harold stood there, rage contorting his young features, a gun smoking in his hands. His amber eyes were flaming, his blond hair was tousled. One of his mockers lay on the floor, dead, blood pouring through a hole in his head.

            “Holy shit! Savannah, get down!” Greg barked. The gun fired again, and another of Harold’s mockers fell. Everyone in the study hall was now running everywhere.

            Gun blasts. People screaming, falling, dying, and bleeding. By now, most of the people in the study hall had either fled, were wounded, or dead. Harold whirled on them, the fire of insanity still bright in his eyes. In one swift movement, Greg was in front of Savannah.

            “Back off Harold. You’re not yourself,” Greg warned. A huge bang. Greg’s body jerked.

            “Nooooooooooooooooo!!” Savannah screamed as Greg’s knees gave out and he lay on the floor. Harold turned on the other people still in there. Savannah dropped down next to her bleeding twin.

            “Greg, don’t leave me! Please! I’ll be alone!” She sobbed, tears flowing down her cheeks, splashing on his shirt. Coughing a little, his face pale, Greg reached up and touched her face, a little blood smearing on her cheek.

            “I’ll be fine,” he wheezed. “I don’t even feel it anymore.”

            “That’s not good!” Savannah shrieked. “No, Greg. Don’t. Greg please!” She buried her face in his chest bloody though it was from the hole in his abdomen.

            “Sit up, bitch!” Harold roared.

            “Why?! Why’d you do this to him?!” Savannah screamed, looking up at the psycho. “How could you?! He didn’t do anything to you!!” Savannah noticed Greg’s grip on her hand loosening. “No!” she cried, sobbing hysterically. “Greg, you can’t leave me! I’ll kill myself if you do!!” she shouted at him. Greg shook his head.

            “You’ve got you’re whole life. I love you, Savannah. You’re the best sister a guy could ask for,” he said, his breath ragged.

            “I hate you! You jackass! You selfish pig!” she shrieked at Harold. Suddenly the gun barrel was at her forehead. “Kill me!! Go on! I have nothing to live for!! DO IT!!!”

            Harold merely swung the gun so the butt of the handle smacked Savannah on the side of her head, breaking her skin, chipping her jawbone, sending her head smacking against the corner of the table she and Greg had sat at. Her head bounced, and she landed in Greg’s arms. He was so weak he could barely hold her. Blood was everywhere, blood from different people all mingled. On the books, the floors, that tables. The teacher had hid behind the desk with the phone, dialing 911, being the wuss that she was.

            Savannah’s vision blurred, but cleared up, just for a moment. Enough time to see the expression on Harold’s face change to one of fear, hate for himself, and the realization that he had just taken fifteen lives, and injured ten others. All this happened in slow motion. Savannah watched as he brought the gun to his temple. She couldn’t look away as he pulled the trigger, his body spasming with impact of the bullet. It flew out the other side, breaking bone, tearing brain, bringing flesh, hair, and blood with it. Savannah passed out.

            She remembered nothing of what happened after that. There was a funny thing about that gunshot though.

            She never heard it.