Just Wait Till Friday ; hemmings a.u

Luke

It was while I was running to Alyssa’s, I realized.

I realized why the eyes looked so familiar.

I realized why Alyssa had warned me not to go to school.

I realized why the shooter had let me go.

I realized that the monster roaming the halls of Heck Ville high, murdering their wrong doers was Alyssa.

I changed my coarse after that, going home where all I could do was sit and stare in mute horror at the staticy television where the school, my school, was being shown. Where kids I’d known since Kindergarten were being pronounced dead or injured.

The sirens wouldn’t stop, all day they wailed, or maybe they were just ringing in my ears with the screams.

It was horrible knowing they were gone.

I didn’t like them, I didn’t care about them at all, in fact on many occasions I’d wished them harm, but never did I think they’d be dead, and never did I realize how baldy it would hurt knowing they were.

I sat there for hours staring dully ahead at the television as news show after news show came on, each talking about the same thing the Heck Ville high massacre.

The word sounded harsh and horrible and I winced every time I was said. Things like that didn’t happen, not here anyway, not in my school, not to my classmates. The sick, twisted animal behind it wasn’t my find, at least that’s what I told myself but deep down I knew it was true and deep down I knew that even though what she did was disgusting, I wanted to see her.

I didn’t condone what she did, I didn’t support it, but I understood it. Would I do it if I were in her place? No. But I did understand it and that was the driving thought, that forced me to put on my shoes and start towards her house.

It didn’t take long to get there, and when I did, I found the door unlocked. My heart hammering in my chest wildly, I looked around the spotless house.

“Alyssa?” I called out.

Silence.

“Alyssa?”

Nothing.

“ALYSSA!”

Suddenly I heard a large crash from above. Terror flooding through my I ran up the stairs and started towards Alyssa’s room, however froze at the sight of the bathroom. Water, tainted pink with blood covered the floor. A pile of bloody clothes lay on the shower floor, and bloody towels led in a trail from the bathroom to her bedroom two doors down.

Feeling sick I stood there, contemplating on whether looking for a girl armed with a gun was a good idea, however at the sound of her broken hearted sob I forced myself forward. Stopping outside her bedroom door, I pushed it open, my heart sinking at the sight inside the room.

Alyssa was sat on the floor infront of the bed,  with the end of the gun in her mouth and her shaking fingertips on the trigger, the towel she had wrapped around herself soaked with blood.

“Alyssa.” I whispered.

Clearly startled by the sound of my voice, she looked up, her tear filled eyes, overflowing at the sight of me.

“Alyssa don’t.” I said softly as I took a tiny step closer to her.

“Alyssa please.” I pleaded, “it’s gonna be okay, you’re alright, just…. just give me the gun.”

Sobbing, she pulled the gun from her mouth and I relaxed considerably, “I have to.” She cried.

“What? No you don’t.” I said quickly.

“I’m gonna go to jail!” she sobbed, “I don’t wanna go to jail!”

“Okay, well um….”

“I don’t wanna be here anymore Luke!”

“Alyssa please….”

“I deserve it.”

“Lyssa come on don’t say that.”

“I’m sorry.” She whimpered, “I love you.”

“Alyssa.” I warned, but it was too late.

I watched with horror as she placed the gun in her mouth once again.

“Alyssa!” I screamed, lunging towards her, but it was too late, just as my fingertips bruised against the cool metal she pulled the trigger.

I didn’t have time to turn away, or watch, all I could do was stare on in horror as blood splattered her white bed behind her, and the white carpet infront of her and she slumped forward. Sobbing hysterically, my breathing ragged, I stared down at her until with a sickening feeling of dread I realized, she wasn’t dead.

I had no idea how, but she was alive, and I wished she wasn’t.

I wished more than the body and the destroyed face infront of me, writing in pain and spluttering in agony was dead because no one deserved to live a split second in that kind of hellish pain.

“Oh my God.” I whimpered, dropping my knees beside her.

Pickering her up, I held her in my lap, against my chest, rocking her slowly as her blood soaked through my clothes. There wasn’t much of her left, but as her hand grouped blindly, I slipped my sweaty hand into her cold one.

Tears streaming down my face I then tried to take her mind, or what was left of it off the pain.

“Alyssa,” I cried, “It’s gonna be okay, you’re gonna be alright, just stop trying, let go, it won’t hurt anymore if you let go.”

Making a heart breaking sound I tried to block out the sound of her gasping and struggling for breath, and then all of a sudden, as quickly as it had started, it was over and she was completely silent and still, going limp in my arms.

Sobs wracking through my body, I couldn’t put her down.

Not when Ashton came home, screaming for Alyssa, then letting out another scream when he saw us, crumpling to the ground and crying like an infant.

Not when her parents ran in frantically, their jaws dropping, and gasping cries leaving their mouths at the sight of the remains of the daughter.

Not until the ambulance was called and they ripped her away from me, zipping her up in a black bag.

It wasn’t until the bag was closed completely with a cruel zipping sound did I realize what had happened, and that it was over.