Another reason to die

A short story written by James Record (2008)

Another reason to die © James Record, jim90 and JrGamestorm 2008

It was another one of those days you wake up and wonder why you woke up, you drag yourself out of bed, for what, another day of it? Or just because you should?
But you get up anyway and get ready nervous, not ever knowing what to expect, you expect the worse I guess that’s why you’re so paranoid or scared.
You’re about to leave the door, you’re not sure whether to go or fake another illness and stay at home again, but you leave the house walking down the street wearily.
You can’t help but notice the negatives, you’re a pessimist and even the brightest, sunniest days appear cloudy and miserable to you.
You drag your heels all the way to the bus stop waiting to catch a bus but the moment you come in sight of another pupil you already lower your head and look at the ground hoping they hadn’t seen you.
The bus arrives and you get on, sit on seat you always have the one at the very front by yourself, trying to think about whatever that passes your mind.
Every time you get an idea it slips you by without you even noticing, you are distracted by your name being called, only it’s not your name, it’s something else, you ignore it and try to get back up to where you were before but the moment you remember what you were thinking you are disturbed again. This time by something hitting your head, it bounces off and rolls onto the floor, you bend down and pick it up, it’s a ball of paper. Again you ignore it.
Eventually after half an hour that would seem like an eternity you arrive at school and go to get off the bus, even though you sit at the front you let every else off first before finally getting off.
Once off you walk across the yard to the front entrance but some people won’t move out the gate, you tell them to move but they all focus their attention on you, one of them, the biggest takes his bag off and drops it.
He then stands tall and pushes out he chest, he asks you what you said.
You repeat, you tell him to move out the way.
He reaches out and grabs you by the collar of your shirt; you manage to move one of your hands and swing it up hitting him in the ear.
He throws you down and punches strait in your face, you can’t see, you don’t know where you are for about two seconds which seems like forever. You recover but before you have chance to hit back there are two hundred people standing around you in a circle chanting, “Kill him! Kill him!” You are confused. You think they’re talking to you, when they’re actually talking to the other guy.
So you do.
You reach into your pocket and pull out a pistol, aim strait at the guy laughing and just as you pull the trigger you hear about a million screams, you pull the trigger and a loud noise rips through the whole school.
He falls to the ground, you aim at his face screaming and firing more shots than are necessary. You turn around and shoot in the crowd, with more screams, BANG, BANG, one-by-one you shoot them and watch them falls to there knees. You don’t stop, you are so hysterical you don’t realise some of the people are the few who call you by your real name.
Yet you shoot shot after shot bringing down all the people who ever as much as looked at you funny. You know longer care.
What you hadn’t known was that there were two police officers visiting your school that day, they were sat in reception when they heard the shots, they come running out.
Out of panic you shoot one and the other screams down his radio, you leave and turn, by which time most of the two hundred had ran, you run.
You leave the school and run into a field opposite, you run and run, police arrive in a van and pour out chasing you aiming much more powerful weapons at you, you run.
You find a car in a shed in the field, probably owned by the farmer, you don’t know how to drive a car, you not old enough to, but that doesn’t stop you today.
You open the door and the keys are still in the ignition, one of the armed police officers comes running at you, you turn round and shoot him, you get in the car.
You start the car and drive along the gravel track, you move off faster and get onto the road and drive faster and faster down the road.
You look up and see a police car in your rear-view mirror, you accelerate, and you hear sirens.
You drive down the road as fast as you can trying to lose the police, but they’re right behind you, one drives up beside you. You aim through the window to your side and shoot shattering the glass out with some bits falling on the passenger seat.
You brake and slow the car, get out and run down the road, the police catch you up and get out their cars, aiming semiautomatic machine guns at you, you are still enraged beyond comparison, you only want all the anger, stress and pressure off but every time you do others put it back on again.
You no long care about anything, you shoot without aiming and they fire back, you feel the warm inside your stomach shortly followed by coldness.
You fall back, you wish you’d done this a long time ago, it would all be easier, it would be so much quicker, but you never had what it takes to do it.
With every last ounce of strength you have left you raise your pistol for the last time, you have one bullet left, and you know who it’s for.