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splat; a sound of something soft and wet or heavy striking a surface.
































never did i think that something soft, wet and heavy would be bradley lewis' body striking the floor of the gym at homecoming.

i have to blink at least 50 times to see what's actually happened. my mind won't let me believe it, but my eyes knows the truth.

i'm still sat on the floor, holding my cast as brad had just pushed me back and made my wrist crack. i'm covered in red, from my converse to my dress and a bit on my face.

students around me shriek and scream, running to the nearest exit to escape the thought of what just happened and rinse off the school's golden boy's blood.

they have no clue. anyone would have no clue because this isn't normal. far fucking from.

because, what could make someone's head explode? i know. and it's not a what, it's a who.

sydney novak stares in shock at what she's just done. how's she going to explain this one? fracturing someone's wrist is one thing, decapitating someone else in front of a whole year of students is something else.

she's speechless, i can tell by the way she looks at me with such an indescribable look on her face. not to mention the amount of blood covering her from head to toe. brad really did get in her face.

i wanna tell her to calm down. i wanna tell her it's all going to be fine. i wanna tell her it's not her fault. but you know what, i can't even tell myself that.

syd shakes her head at me before turning like everyone else and leaving the school. i wanna find her in the chaos, but i wouldn't know what to do. and i feel like i can't just leave.

dina crouches beside brad's lifeless carcass, but keeps her hands covering her mouth. i wonder what she's thinking, maybe nothing at all. but from the look on her puzzled face, i can tell she really liked brad, despite everything that went on.

she certainly didn't wish him death. unless she did and she told syd and then syd took it upon herself and-

my mind's frazzled. i wanna talk to someone about this and that's when i remember stanley got punched just moments ago by someone, who moments ago was alive.

he's holding his head to stop the indefinite ringing. i spot the new graze on his face, that'll bruise nicely. something to remember brad by.

seeing stanley dart his eyes around the room like a lost puppy breaks my heart. he looks at brad, he looks at dina and then at me.

it's a look i've not shared with anyone before. it's a look of complete helplessness mixed with shock mixed with guilt mixed with oh holy fuck.

we don't have the answers, but what we both know is this thing that syd has, is bigger than the three of us now.

uncool, stanley barber Where stories live. Discover now