"Guns?" my therapist Ben asks.
"Obviously" I reply leaning back into the chair.
"And then?" he asks.
I walk through a crowded hallway, smiling sweetly,wearing a trench coat and holding a dufflel bag.
"I'm walking through the halls, I'mcalm, I have the secret, I knowwhat's coming and I know no one canstop me, including myself" I reply remembering my visions.
"Do you target people who have beenmean to you Shawn? Unkind?" he asks again.
"No. I kill people I like" I reply smugly.
In the hall a sweet innocent 16 year old girl smiles at me. I smile back.
"Do you feel sympathy?" he asks writing on his notepad.
"No. I'm helping them"
Typical algebra tedium. Until I enter.
"Can I help you?" the teacher asks me.
"No" I reply raising the gun, shooting the teacher.
She instantly goesdown. I look at the shocked students, who are paralyzed. I start roaming the aisles and just start shooting. Some of them beg for their life,but I don't feel sad, I don't feelanything. Its a filthy world welive in, a filthy goddamnedhelpless world, and honestly? Ifeel I'm taking them away from allthe shit and piss and vomit thatruns in the streets, you know? I'mhelping to take them somewhereclean and silent and kind. The entire classroom has been massacred, the walls are bloodsmeared. The sweet girl from the hallway has been badlywounded, but she's not dead. I stop in front of her, aim the gun. She raises her shaking hand, you can see me through agaping bullet hole.
"Please..." she begs.
I shoot her dead.
"There's something about the blood,man. All that blood. I drown in it" I say evilly.
I'm bounding down the stairwell, to escape. I hearssomething, stop turn.
a torrent of blood runs down the wall, It races down the stairwell at me. I spreads my arms, to welcome it. It envelopes me, I am obliterated.
Ben shows no emotion, writing sociopath on his tablet.
"The Indians believed that bloodholds all the bad spirits, theywould cut themselves once a monthin ceremonies, let the spirits gofree. There's something smart aboutthat. Very smart. I like that" I pronounce.
---
Simultaneously, some girl cuts herself with the razor blade in her room. She stares at thecrimson gash on her arm with no emotion.
"You think I'm crazy?" I ask rudely.
"No. I think you're creative, and Ithink you have a lot of pain you'renot dealing with" he replies.
"My mother's worried about me"
"Yes" he says blankly.
"She's a cocksucker. I mean,literally, she's a cocksucker. Shesucked the guy off next door allthe time, my dad found out, heleft. He left me alone with acocksucker, can you imagine? Howsick is that?" I say for the first time showing vulnerability.
" I'm not crazy, dude. Don't youthink it's interesting? The idea ofletting the bad blood out? Theworlds a filthy place. A goddamnedhorror show. So much pain. So much" I trail off.
The same girl makes another cut.
"You're doing it wrong" I interrupt.
She whirls around, revealing her arms.
"If you're trying to kill yourself,cut vertically. They can't stitchthat up" I say approaching her.
"How'd you get in here?" she said freaked.
"If you're trying to kill yourselfyou might also try locking thedoor" I smirk leaning on the door knob.
I leave her alone as she stares.
YOU ARE READING
Shawn Mendes Imagines
Fanfictionkeep your pants on and your feels inside your body. Dirty. Cute. Funny. I gotchu Babe♡
