Barrel | Teen Ink

Barrel

January 9, 2013
By AlexChristine BRONZE, Rochester, New York
AlexChristine BRONZE, Rochester, New York
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
We should all live before we get to old. Fear is stupid and so are regrets.
-Marilyn Monroe


I am on fire. The burning is as intense as the screams around me. I cannot drown them out no matter how loud the gunshots are. I look around me in a confused daze, I look at the faces and realize this is my fault. I am the reason behind this insane shooting. I stared at Elliot daily and taunted him. I gleamed and glittered in his eyes, I was the one thing he could never touch. I was the forbidden fruit, no matter how bad he wanted me, I was hidden behind a lock and combination. I was hidden away from him, away from everyone really. I was the one you whispered about, or thought about with your friends but no one pursued the idea of me. Elliot, I learned during trial, was mentally unstable. There were whispers, but never answers. That’s all anyone wants; answers. The screams of the students brought me back to reality. I could no longer pretend I wasn’t on fire. I couldn’t ignore the ringing throughout my body. I couldn’t ignore the chaos around me. Teenagers looked me right in the eye as they met their fate, I was the last thing they saw before their life was stolen from them.

It was my fault. I taunted him. I am to blame. I drove him mad.

I look around me and people are clinging to each other. It seems in this moment everyone has realized how much they need each other. If something good can come out of a situation like this: this is it. The students around me dropped to the ground.

One by one.

They looked me in the eye as they took their last breath. They cursed me, they blamed me, they knew it was my fault. Elliot looked at me and smiled. He thanked me for the inspiration to carry out his awful task. I didn’t want to be the inspiration. I want to be one of those dropping to the floor and drowning in their own blood. Each time a shot rang out I was ripped open by fire, and by the ringing, I was torn apart by the screams as Elliot kept a hand on me. He did that to make sure I couldn’t escape.

Where was I going to go?

One brave soul looked Elliot in the eye and told him to drop me. Leave me out of this. The teenager named Henry was so hopeful I almost stopped Elliot myself, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was the inspiration behind this mad mans task.

And I loved it.

I didn’t love the tormented faces of the teenagers around me. I didn’t love the sounds of their screaming. I didn’t love watching the life leave their eyes.

I loved being wanted.

The students who were lucky enough to not have bullets in them were fighting to get out of the room. Elliot anticipated that. I knew his plan before he initiated it. I wanted to stop it.

I was to blame.

The wicked gleam in his eye grew and grew until the fire in my body reflected in his eyes. I couldn’t see him, but I knew what would be reflected like a mirror.

Death and destruction.

Birth and creation.

Elliot, as mad as he was, fought valiantly against the voice he repressed for so many years. He tried to be an upstanding citizen, he tried to be a great athlete, and he tried to be the best student. Try as he might, it was my taunting that sent him over the edge. I didn’t do it on purpose, it was my job. It’s why I was created.

One by one, the students dropped. They whimpered until they choked on their own blood.

The screams turned into hushed whispers.

The hushed whispers turned into nothing.

The room was silent. Everyone was gone.

He moved to end his life until out of the corner of his eye he saw a twitch. It was a small simple movement but it sent him back over the edge. He walked over to her, bent us both down against her face, and watched her as he pulled the trigger. He stood in a pool of her blood growing bigger every second, until it finally stopped. She bled out. He smiled a sad, remorseful smile.

He didn’t mean for this to happen. He blamed me for taunting him. I drove him wild with desire. Desire that would never end until one of us did.

Elliot wrote a message on the board. He apologized to the parents of the high schoolers he gunned down. He didn’t blame himself he blamed me. He looked at me lovingly, and the feeling was reciprocated. We loved each other. We belonged to each other.

Til death do us part.

He brought me close to his face like he was going to whisper a secret, which i suppose he did, he whispered things I will never repeat. Then he cocked my arm back, and let go. He dropped me to the floor. He watched me as he slowly died. I still taunted him. And just like that, I was to blame.


The author's comments:
Everyone calls for gun control when there is a shooting. Guns don't kill people. People kill people. The gun in my story blames itself, when really its the shooter behind the gun who is at fault. Everyone else also blames the gun. Not the shooter.

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This article has 1 comment.


your bum said...
on Jan. 13 2013 at 9:19 pm
i loved it:) but i already told you that..great story, it made me want to keep reading, cant wait for your next story! more:P