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Four Shots Fired

A fictional story that explores a controversial character. I want to warn that there is heavy language in the story, and it may be emotionally disturbing for some.

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Four Shots Fired
Freedom Rings 1776

Finally, school was let out. As students burst forth from the classrooms into the halls like water from a busted pipe, I moved as quickly as I could, pushing through the wave of bodies. If I could just get to my locker and get out, I could avoid trouble. I had never wanted trouble. But right on cue, I heard Macy call from behind.

"Hey!"

She always stayed after hours. Most days it was to watch John during his practice.

I picked up the pace, breaking into a jog.

"Heard you tried to hook up with John," called a random female voice from the thinning crowd. A wad of blue gum was spat into my hair. "Not cool!"

"Hey, look what you did," another voice said. "Now she's going to have to cut off all that pretty brown hair."

"She could've used it to cover her face!" exclaimed a third.

There was an eruption of laughter.

Running now, I cradled my books with my left arm and desperately tried to pull the gum from my hair. I turned a corner into a completely barren hall and found my body suddenly pulled into the men's locker room and thrown up against the wall.

"Someone's been spreading rumors," said John mischievously. He used his weight to keep me pinned. "Don't get me wrong, it's cute."

"I haven't said anything and you know it," I shouted. "Just let go of me!"

"Chill! Jesus. I'm just having a little fun." He pressed his pelvis against me.

"Off!" I screamed. I managed to swing my books into the side of his head.

"Jesus fuck," John shouted. He let go of me, and while he was still dazed I bolted out of the locker room and down the hall. This part of the school was completely emptied by now, so there were no obstacles in my way. I heard John yelling after me. "You know if you weren't so fucking weird, maybe you would be left alone! Fuck!"

I turned another corner, this time into the hallway with my locker. I moved into a full sprint, my eyes focusing on the numbers of each locker I passed.

241. 242.

"Hey," shouted Macy. I could hear her rapid footsteps behind me.

"Go away," I yelled back.

254. 255.

"Who the fuck do you think you are? Have you really been fucking around with John," she asked.

269. 270!

I frantically spun the combination into the lock and swung open the locker door. Macy came up from behind and swung a fist into the back of my head.

"Come at me, bitch! You're a waste of space," she said, trying to egg me on. Still dizzy from the blow, I reached into my bag.

"Are you really going to fucking ignore me?"

I pulled out the gun I'd stashed, already loaded.

"Wait, what are you-"

I turned around and pointed the end of the barrel at her face.

"Okay, okay, I give up..."

Hot tears flooded my eyes and poured down my cheeks, blurring my vision.

"You win, okay? You win. Please. I won't tell anyone. I promise! I'll leave you alone!"

"Macy," John called from down the hall. Noticing my gun, he stopped in his tracks.

"She's a fucking psycho," Macy screamed, instinctively breaking away and running toward John.

When the first shot hit John in the leg, and he fell to the ground writhing in pain, I felt nothing.

When the second shot missed entirely and tore through one of the lockers lining the hall, my heart began to race.

When the third shot hit the bitch in the back of the head, and a shower of dark red erupted from the base of her skull, and her brief scream echoed through the building, I became numb.

When the sound of confusion and panic from the other side of the building began to ring in my ears like the buzzing of flies and someone pulled the fire alarm, all my senses dulled and the tears stopped falling.

Minutes passed before I could hear the sirens from the street and the police making their way down the halls. I stood there in shock, watching the growing red puddle under Macy's body. My eyes caught John rocking back and forth in terrified and pained sobs, and my heart started to race again. I took a step toward him, then stopped.

And when the fourth shot went straight into my brain, all went black, and I felt nothing.


(I want to emphasize that this story was a complete work of fiction, meant only to explore a controversial topic. This was in no way meant to glorify violence, and I in no way condone the actions of the main character. Violence is never, ever, the solution to bullying or any other problem.)

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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