He woke in the morning with single-minded determination: They would pay. For all the times the teased and bullied and laughed and shunned him. They would pay. Anyone would thing it scary and crazy how well he had planned it. It would be in first period when he had English with the three worst perpetrators. They would be sitting at the back being there usual obnoxious selves. They would never expect it. After all the things they called him, meek, sissy, coward, fag. He would never rise up and defend himself he was nothing but a pathetic loser with no friends. After he was done there he would move on, he had no specific targets in mind, they all laughed and whispered snide remarks they all deserved it. He would go until he had nothing left and he would give up.

He walked down stairs to his mother and father and put on an act. His parents didn't need to know what was going on it was better for them to think it was just a normal day.

It wasn't.

When they left for the day he wrote them a note and stuck it on the fridge. He then made is way to his fathers study and opened the second door on the left. He pulled out the handgun and all the ammunition, he put it all in his bag and walked out the door, believing that this was the last time he ever would. He had no doubt that today was the last day he would hear his classmates hateful taunts.

He was right.

It wasn't until after his parents found out that he was the one responsible for the massacre did they find the note;

Mum, Dad, I am alone and I am isolated. I had no choice and I'm sorry.

They cried for their son and they were the only ones who did.