Matt Shaw - The 8th

“There’s no one there,” said Mrs Price.

“Just because you don’t see them, it doesn’t mean they aren’t there but they’re always here. Always walking the corridors where they were tormented for so long… What I’m doing… What I’m here for today. Someone should have done this a long time ago…”

“What you’re doing… This doesn’t make anything right. This doesn’t change anything…”

“It will! Don’t you see. People will hear of this. This story will spread across the world… Newspapers, television programmes… A warning to others who may be tormenting colleagues close to them…”

“It won’t. You’ll just go down in history as another psychopath killing innocent people in their school…”

“Just as David will be another suicide statistic?”

Mrs Price’s short words were all that was mentioned of David in the school — at least in front of the pupils. There were no speeches, in the morning assembly, offering people in the same position as David any help. There was no advice for handling bullies. There was nothing. Even the local newspaper hardly went into any details about it when it landed on the doorstep three days after the event.

My mum felt bad for me, as I had lost a friend, but then went onto say she could see it coming. She could see it in his eyes that he was a troubled young boy; a damaged soul. Teachers didn’t have much to say either. Apparently David had a history of depression which he brought to the school with him — documented in his file from his previous school. I told them about the bullying but it was, more or less, brushed under the carpet. Piers and his friends, of course, denied everything. What made it worse, with regards to Piers and his buddies, was that every time I looked at them — they were laughing. I’m not sure what about but… Did none of them feel any remorse? Did they honestly believe they weren’t to blame for what happened to David?

“What are you doing in here?” mum asked. I was sitting in dad’s office. An office which was normally out of bounds due to the sensitive documents he sometimes had with him. I could never help but wonder why, if they were so sensitive, he brought them home and, more importantly, what difference it made whether we were allowed in the study or not… It wasn’t as though he left them on his desk. They were all locked away in his large wall safe. Speaking of which… I was frantically trying to guess the combination. “I asked you a question.” The locking mechanism of the safe clicked open. Success. Having tried his date of birth, mum’s date of birth, my date of birth… I was surprised when it clicked open on their wedding anniversary. In a world this shitty it was nice to see he still valued his marriage — more than can be said for some couples. Unless, of course, he just doesn’t know how to change the combination code now that it is set. “Get away from there… Your father will kill you.”

I doubt it. He’s never here.

I pulled the door open. There it is. Just as I had hoped. I reached in and took hold of his handgun. His favourite piece to use whenever he is training new cadets. At least, that’s what he tells me it’s for. For all I know he could have purchased it from the black market just as a source of protection for the house. I wonder if mum knew it was here? I only knew from when I had seen it over his shoulder.

“Put that down!” mum said sternly as I pulled the gun from the safe.

“I can’t. I need it.”

“Need it? For what?”

I just looked at her. She knew what it was for. Did I really have to spell it out? I need it to teach them a lesson. All of them. Just as David wanted to do. I’m doing it for David…

“You’re not leaving the house with it,” mum said. She blocked the doorway. I can only hope she isn’t going to test me. “You’re not taking that to school,” she continued — proof that she knew exactly what I wanted it for.

“Yes, I am. I need to show them they can’t push people around anymore. I need to show them there are consequences to their actions. They need to know I’m not afraid. They need to know…”

“You’re not afraid? Then you don’t need to take a gun to school…”

“I need to show them!” I shouted. I could feel my eyes start to well up. “Did you know David wasn’t the first to kill himself at my school? There were others too… Others who were bullied like David. The first I have heard of this was yesterday… In the cafeteria… People talking about it… Remembering the others who had taken their lives as well because they were bullied…”

“So you go and hurt the one who bullied your friend?” said mum. “There will just be another bully further down the line. No matter what is said and done, there will always be someone to take their place.”

“There doesn’t have to be. I can teach them. I can show them the error of their ways. I can show them. They won’t hurt anyone again. They won’t. And when news gets out about what I’ve done… When the news gets out — no one will want to hurt anyone again…”

“You’re being silly,” said mum, “the world doesn’t work like that.”

“It can. No one has tried it yet.”

“I’m sorry about your friend. You know I am. If you want to look at changing schools, I’ll talk with your father when he calls…”

“What’s the point? Every school is the same! I need to do this. Not just for me but people like David… .”

“But…”

“Lindsey, Elizabeth, Marcus, Samantha, Kate… Helen… Now David. I found the newspaper reports on them on the school computer. They all killed themselves using various methods. All dead because of bullies…”

“You don’t know that, it could have been because…”

“Of course it was to do with the bullies. There may have been something else in their life to upset them too but you know it would have been the likes of Piers who had tipped them over the edge. Every time I shut my eyes I see them standing there. Every time…”

I looked at the David and the others. Time was running out. Too much taken up with arguing with Mrs Price about what I was doing. How wrong I was. I’m not a psychopath. I’m not. I’m the innocent one. David and the other six students… We are the innocent ones… Backed into corners with no visible exit other than what I’m doing here or suicide. I need to do this. Just skip across to Piers. He is the main culprit, in my eyes. Teach him a lesson so harsh the others will learn from it.

This is it.

This is what I’ve been gearing towards.

“Enough is enough,” barked Mrs Price, “give me the gun!”

Who does she think she is giving orders like that? She forgets, this is my class. I am the one in charge. She is right, though, enough is enough. I’ve already passed the point of no return. Now it’s time to end it.

“Give me the gun!” she screamed.

I’d never heard my mum shout like that and it took me back a bit.

“Give me the gun!” she screamed again. I went to push past her but she grabbed for the gun. She was screaming for me to hand it over but I wouldn’t. For a split second we both danced around the room, fighting over the gun, when suddenly a shot rang through the house — echoing in the small room we were in.

Mrs Price looked startled as I looked at her down the barrel of the smoking gun. Blood immediately poured from the hole in her chest. She dropped to her knees without another word and then face-planted onto the hard floor. The rest of the class screamed and immediately jumped up from their desks. Someone would have heard that. Someone would be coming now.

It doesn’t matter if the sound of the gunshot does attract people. I won’t be here. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t mean for the gun to go off but I can’t stay here regretting what’s happened. As I looked down at mum, who was lying face down in a pooling puddle of blood, I knew that none of this was my fault. I feel numb about what I’ve done. It’s not my fault. None of it. This is their fault. The bullies. Piers. This is his fault. Lessons start in less than an hour. I need to be ready. I only hope I can get this finished before they come for me.