A Revolution;
By Katlynn Chrans
“So how’re you finding freshman year” I smiled at my younger brother as he devoured the eggs mom had made us for breakfast. I watched his lips turn up at the corner, the satisfaction clear on his face.
“It’s great!” he enthusiastically replied, grinning from ear to ear again. “I love that I get to pick my classes, do stuff that I love, not stuff I have to do ya know?” he added.
I smiled back while I stood and ruffled his hair. I set my plate in the sink, my mom rushing over to clean it.
“I’ve got that sweetie, you two get going. Claire good luck with your SAT prep test after school, you’ll do great okay” she beamed.
I hugged her tightly; her hand ran softly up and down my back. Her dark auburn hair smelt faintly of roses and honey.
“I love you so so much Claire, I am so proud of you” she whispered to me giving me a tighter squeeze.
I gave her one last smile before grabbing my bag and heading out the front door.
“Please take your seats” Mr. White called from the front of the classroom, fifth period English was among my favourite classes, I took my seat dutifully near the centre, pulling my book out I awaited the start of the class.
“Claire, are you coming to Avery’s party tomorrow?” my best friend Mia leaned over to ask me. Her long blonde hair swept over her shoulder glistening in the sunlight filtering through the window.
I met Mia when we were both five years old, she was smiley and we would read together under the apple tree in her backyard. We’ve grown up together, we ditched school for the first time together, and we went to our first party together. She helped me through everything when my dad walked out on us, and when my mom wasn’t really feeling up to being a mom. She was the kind of best friend you hear about in movies.
We had grand plans, living in Paris together for a year before our backpacking trip across Asia . University on the West coast before finally stopping in New York on the East coast.
“Yeah I think so, I’ll check with my mom tonight but it should be fine,” I told her opening my book and making annotations.
It was very quiet when he heard the first loud shots. Everyone’s heads snapped up, nervous glances were shared between us. Mr. White stood just as there was a second round of thunder, and then came the screams.
Mia turned towards me; fear struck every feature of her face. I watched silent tears run down her cheeks and realized what was happening. The sound of empty shells hitting the floor flowed through the open door, screeching of chairs and desks being used as shields.
“Everyone get down” Mr. White yelled, shutting the door he ran back to his own desk sitting calmly back in his seat, his face the shade of bone.
Slowly our small class begun to slide under our desks, we flinched whenever there was the slightest sound. Mia, shaking, reached out her hand; I grasped it and gave her a hopeless smile.
How could I give her a hopeful one? We both knew how these situations ended, we had seen enough of them broadcasted on the news to hear the heartbreaking stories of people losing best friends, lovers, and loved ones.
I thought about my brother, I silently prayed he was okay, he would be on the bottom level, hopefully he would get out, it sounded like the shots were only upstairs so far.
I looked around me, expressions of shock and fear reflected back at me, no one dared to breathe.
We all heard the quiet footsteps echoing down the hall, no way to tell from which direction they were going or coming from. Just the *thunk* *thunk* *thunk* of heavy boots.
My breath ceased as the doorknob to our classroom rattled, I looked at Mia, my own fear reflected back at me in her eyes. She tightened her grip on my hand, the colour slowly leeching from her knuckles. I heard her almost silent rattled breaths and tried to tell her we would be alright through my eyes, I don’t think it worked.
I listened in as the shaking of the door stopped, breathing a sigh of relief, too soon. The glass shattered to the floor, cascading like water from a river. Screams released like fear sirens across the room. Mia’s hand slipped from mine as she etched closer under her desk.
A hand reached through the small shattered window of the door, twisting the lock on the door with ease.
I watched the thick brown boots cross the threshold of the door, traveling around the room, toying with us.
A loud screech echoed across the room as the figure spun on their heels, promptly pointing the gun at Mr. White and ending his life before any of us could intake a breath.
I wanted to scream out, to help him. I knew he had a wife, and kids, and grandkids. He would never take them to the park again, or celebrate another birthday, or kiss his wife…ever again.
The figure turned, pacing, prowling, pondering, who will be his next victim.
The next shot found its home in Jenny, a scream of pain left her lips, the crimson river flooding from her thigh.
I didn’t know her too well, she was smart, I heard she had a place at Harvard already, with a paid internship accompanying it. I wondered if she would ever make it there.
The figure rounded the desk, slumping into Mr. White’s seat, watching him kick the dead body of my teacher I wanted to be sick, I held it in.
A third shot, the sound still ringing in my ears as I saw it collide with my friend Nathan. He was the first of us to turn 18, he took care of his little sister after their mom died of cancer and their dad killed himself after. He went to school full time and worked nights for her.
The vital fluid flooding from his abdomen, would his sister have anyone now?
“Bet you didn’t see that coming?” said the figure, still seated behind the desk.
I finally got a glimpse of their face, I almost cried out. It was Jared Lotterman. Everyone knew him, he played varsity tennis and was headed to Ohio State
All I could see then was the sinister enjoyment in his eyes as he watched his peers struggle with pain, slowly losing consciousness. The smile, from that day on I would never forget it, singed into my mind like a hot iron brand.
He left after that, I was the first to rush to Nathan’s side, next came Theo, he was always good at Biology, he told me what to do.
“Hold down on the wound, hard.” He said calmly, “Someone call 911” He called to the rest of us. I saw Mia, shaking, reach for her phone.
“Here I’ll take over,” Theo said clearly seeing my dazed state. He held his removed hoodie to the wound.
“I think he went up to the next level, we should get out while we can, I can hear the sirens outside,” said Chloe.
“I think, if we lifted him by the shoulders, and then someone followed behind holding onto his midriff we could get him outside,” Theo said repositioning the hoodie. As he pressed down again I watched the blood that had soaked in start flowing out
“I’ll grab his midriff,” Mia said slowing rising to her feet.
We all made our way down the hallway, part of the class in front and part behind to look around corners. Jenny was being carried right behind us. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop; we all winced when there was a gunshot and screams that followed.
Hearing Nathan’s shallow breaths, becoming more and more labored by the minutes, made me want to cry. I wanted to break down and escape.
“Someone’s coming” yelled Chloe, she was in the back, watching behind us.
We all quickened our pace, that’s when I heard the familiar sound, heavy boots. And, as we quickened our pace, so did they.
Three shots, perfectly aimed, taking three more of my friends. Chloe’s yell was the loudest, telling us to run.
“Mia hold on, tight” Theo ordered, and then we ran.
I didn’t know if I would get out of there alive if I would ever hug my mom again, or sit under our tree with Mia. Would I see my brother?
I felt the breeze first, and then I felt the sun on my face. I was partially aware of the paramedics taking Nathan’s limp body from my arms. The sobs and yells that erupted around me as we were finally out. That’s when I sank to my knees, sinking into the soft grass. Mia’s arms embracing my shoulders. It all happened in slow motion, like a movie, no a nightmare.
“Claire!” I heard a woman's soft voice, my mothers, she was there too.
Mia had gone to find her parents, mom was with me in the back of an open ambulance, I had a security blanket on, and they had attempted to clean the blood off e and Theo.
“Where’s Jake mom, has he come out yet?” I asked picking at a hangnail.
“No, yours was the first group to come out,” she said squeezing my arm. “He’ll be okay” she added, hopefully.
This is my story. My brother never made it out of the school, he never played baseball again, and he never talked about how much he wanted to get a scholarship again. He never took hours in the bathroom to annoy me again.
No one expected Jared; no one saw any warning signs. That’s the thing about school shootings, it has absolutely nothing to do with mental health, or bullying or the number of friends someone has. The problem is not the students who are being hunted and killed, their lives ending before they have really begun, it’s the person behind the gun, and it’s the…gun.
In a crime-filled city you can’t fix the original crimes by adding more crimes, so how can you stop school shootings, or any shootings, by adding more guns. You can’t it makes no sense whatsoever. What happens when a teacher who has had enough of a class who aren’t listening, and say, they shoot the ceiling, or a student or multiple students?
The National Rifle Association is of one the most ruthless and careless and money hungry associations I have ever seen. They have politicians, presidents, hell governments, wrapped right around their dirty fingers. Blaming the students who are being killed, and for those not ‘mourning’ their friends enough. Saying they’re ‘being paid’ to rebel guns. Like it is so abnormal for students to fight for their friend's vein deaths.
How was a 19-year-old boy able to acquire a semi-automatic rifle? Military, that is the single and only reason any of those guns should be used.
How many more kids have to die before politicians realize they’re on the wrong side of this fight?
A REVOLUTION IS HAPPENING AND WE WILL NOT STAND DOWN, NO MORE LOSS, NO MORE DEATH, AND NO MORE GUNS.
#Marchforourlives
#Neveragain
#Guncontrol
Comments
Post a Comment