Homecoming and a story
So, my senior year of high school is in full swing, and I am currently avoiding writing a bullcrap essay for Physics, because my school decided that ever single class, excluding math classes, has to write an essay everything three weeks. The joy.
Homecoming was two weeks ago, and it was very bitter sweet. It's a week long competition between classes, and for the first time since we have been at the school, my class won. I know that teachers always pull heavily on the senior's direction, but it still felt nice. It was a very sad thing to realize that it was my last spirit week ever. Sure, I can go to the game next year, but it's not the same as the spirited competition and school pride. I think spirit week is just about the only week of the entire year that I actually like my school.
Sadly my life is so uneventful that that is all I have to say, I just thought I should make an entry and let those of you who care know that I am still alive. I do, however, have a story for you lovely people.
The sky was not bright blue and the grass was not emerald green. The sun was high and harsh in the sky, so intense that the colors of the world it shone upon were bleached and paled. Metallic and black surfaces were super-heated and dangerous to touch. The students in their classrooms noticed none of this, however. The air-conditioned environment and almost total silence they worked in made the day outside seem lazy and gentle, something they wished they could escape into, instead of wasting away in their desks.
One student, however, stood outside and felt the sun pounding on his back, the heat from the pavement soaking up through his shoes. He felt as if he were on fire, and surely, if he attempted to move he would find his soles melted to the spot. He was already two hours late, and a few more minutes wouldn’t make a difference. Perhaps if he waited long enough he could sneak in between classes and avoid a trip to the office. He didn’t move into the shade for his wait, and instead had become hypnotized by the heat visibly rippling off the concrete, distorting the façade of the school in front of him. This state of entrancement was perhaps the only thing that saved his life that day.
Inside the school an office aid lingered in the halls. She had delivered the last of the notices she had been told to distribute and instead of immediately returning to the office, she had chosen to take her time walking the halls that, in just a month, would forever be in her past. She was eager to graduate; it represented an escape to her. She would finally be able to start her life in earnest. She paused at a window and looked at the quiet neighborhood across the street; she didn’t live there but had plenty of friends who did, and she felt a pang of envy. She didn’t live in the worst part of town, but it was considerably less charming than this one. She didn’t see the boy standing outside if she had, the few seconds distraction he provided might have saved her life. Unfortunately for her, his luck was not contagious. Instead, what came to her was the fame she had always longed for, she would always been known as the first victim.
She tore her gaze away from the window and decided she should head back to the office; she had almost been gone long enough to raise suspicion and didn’t want to risk lingering any longer. When she was just a hundred feet away from the haven of the office a boy who she had seen before but never talked to stepped into the hallway out of the boy’s bathroom located near the end of the hall. She only barely had time to register what was in his hand, and no time at all to give sound to the scream that was building in her throat. When he raised his arm and fired, the gunshot provided more of a warning to everyone else than her scream ever would have. Silence seemed to close in as suddenly as the shot had rang out, and in that silence she fell. Her knees hit the beige linoleum hard, but she hardly felt it, she was more concerned with the red stain blossoming on her shirt, as she fell she was aware of chaos breaking out in the hall. Shouts and screams of fear echoed off the walls, and it soon became too much for her to keep track of. As quickly as the initial shock had shielded her from pain, it rolled away and she was overcome with an agonizing burning sensation in her stomach. Dimly, she was aware of someone grabbing her under her arms and dragging her into a classroom. Before she lost consciousness she saw the terrified, unnaturally white face of the school secretary.
Outside, in the hot day, the boy heard the first shot, but his heat addled brain took until the second and third shots to make a connection with anything significant. He tried to tell his feet to move either toward or away from the building, but his brain seemed to be of the opinion that each option was equally useless and disobeyed. He remained in the same spot, staring up at the second floor window, near where the first shot had come from. He did not move even after he lost count of the number of shots that had been fired. He knew he was an easy target if the shooter appeared at a window, but still he did not move.
He didn’t know how much time had passed before he heard the first sirens, but the last shot had long rang out. He was finally forced to move when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and pulled him back behind the line of police cars and ambulances that had formed. He knew that he was being questioned but he didn’t answer. The ambulances had caught his attention and he knew there couldn’t possibly be enough, he also saw that no one was making any moves toward the school. He tried to ask why no one was doing anything and when he didn’t get an answer he tried to struggle out of the grip the officer had on him, but the man would not relent. He fought hysterics as his question remained unanswered. He heard a voice nearby relaying information. There had been only one shooter and he was dead, a suicide, most likely. Unknown dead and wounded, and a special squad was being sent in to assess the situation, after that, students would begin to be let out.
As the first students trickled out of the exits, the boy carefully avoided looking too closely at their shocked faces. He was not ready yet to know who wasn’t among them.
Homecoming was two weeks ago, and it was very bitter sweet. It's a week long competition between classes, and for the first time since we have been at the school, my class won. I know that teachers always pull heavily on the senior's direction, but it still felt nice. It was a very sad thing to realize that it was my last spirit week ever. Sure, I can go to the game next year, but it's not the same as the spirited competition and school pride. I think spirit week is just about the only week of the entire year that I actually like my school.
Sadly my life is so uneventful that that is all I have to say, I just thought I should make an entry and let those of you who care know that I am still alive. I do, however, have a story for you lovely people.
The sky was not bright blue and the grass was not emerald green. The sun was high and harsh in the sky, so intense that the colors of the world it shone upon were bleached and paled. Metallic and black surfaces were super-heated and dangerous to touch. The students in their classrooms noticed none of this, however. The air-conditioned environment and almost total silence they worked in made the day outside seem lazy and gentle, something they wished they could escape into, instead of wasting away in their desks.
One student, however, stood outside and felt the sun pounding on his back, the heat from the pavement soaking up through his shoes. He felt as if he were on fire, and surely, if he attempted to move he would find his soles melted to the spot. He was already two hours late, and a few more minutes wouldn’t make a difference. Perhaps if he waited long enough he could sneak in between classes and avoid a trip to the office. He didn’t move into the shade for his wait, and instead had become hypnotized by the heat visibly rippling off the concrete, distorting the façade of the school in front of him. This state of entrancement was perhaps the only thing that saved his life that day.
Inside the school an office aid lingered in the halls. She had delivered the last of the notices she had been told to distribute and instead of immediately returning to the office, she had chosen to take her time walking the halls that, in just a month, would forever be in her past. She was eager to graduate; it represented an escape to her. She would finally be able to start her life in earnest. She paused at a window and looked at the quiet neighborhood across the street; she didn’t live there but had plenty of friends who did, and she felt a pang of envy. She didn’t live in the worst part of town, but it was considerably less charming than this one. She didn’t see the boy standing outside if she had, the few seconds distraction he provided might have saved her life. Unfortunately for her, his luck was not contagious. Instead, what came to her was the fame she had always longed for, she would always been known as the first victim.
She tore her gaze away from the window and decided she should head back to the office; she had almost been gone long enough to raise suspicion and didn’t want to risk lingering any longer. When she was just a hundred feet away from the haven of the office a boy who she had seen before but never talked to stepped into the hallway out of the boy’s bathroom located near the end of the hall. She only barely had time to register what was in his hand, and no time at all to give sound to the scream that was building in her throat. When he raised his arm and fired, the gunshot provided more of a warning to everyone else than her scream ever would have. Silence seemed to close in as suddenly as the shot had rang out, and in that silence she fell. Her knees hit the beige linoleum hard, but she hardly felt it, she was more concerned with the red stain blossoming on her shirt, as she fell she was aware of chaos breaking out in the hall. Shouts and screams of fear echoed off the walls, and it soon became too much for her to keep track of. As quickly as the initial shock had shielded her from pain, it rolled away and she was overcome with an agonizing burning sensation in her stomach. Dimly, she was aware of someone grabbing her under her arms and dragging her into a classroom. Before she lost consciousness she saw the terrified, unnaturally white face of the school secretary.
Outside, in the hot day, the boy heard the first shot, but his heat addled brain took until the second and third shots to make a connection with anything significant. He tried to tell his feet to move either toward or away from the building, but his brain seemed to be of the opinion that each option was equally useless and disobeyed. He remained in the same spot, staring up at the second floor window, near where the first shot had come from. He did not move even after he lost count of the number of shots that had been fired. He knew he was an easy target if the shooter appeared at a window, but still he did not move.
He didn’t know how much time had passed before he heard the first sirens, but the last shot had long rang out. He was finally forced to move when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and pulled him back behind the line of police cars and ambulances that had formed. He knew that he was being questioned but he didn’t answer. The ambulances had caught his attention and he knew there couldn’t possibly be enough, he also saw that no one was making any moves toward the school. He tried to ask why no one was doing anything and when he didn’t get an answer he tried to struggle out of the grip the officer had on him, but the man would not relent. He fought hysterics as his question remained unanswered. He heard a voice nearby relaying information. There had been only one shooter and he was dead, a suicide, most likely. Unknown dead and wounded, and a special squad was being sent in to assess the situation, after that, students would begin to be let out.
As the first students trickled out of the exits, the boy carefully avoided looking too closely at their shocked faces. He was not ready yet to know who wasn’t among them.