Matt Shaw - The 8th

I didn’t care that the class was in a panic. I didn’t care that some of them had dared to make a rush for the door. They could go. It didn’t matter anymore. All that matters is him… Piers. He is still in the back row of the class. I’m not sure whether he is still too stunned to make a run for it or too stupid. Either way I’m grateful. I didn’t want to have to chase him through the school.

I stormed over to where Piers was sitting, smoking gun still in my hand, and grabbed him by his hair. He let out a funny little wail as I pulled him to his feet and marched him to the front of the classroom. By the time we get there, most of the class is empty. It’s just me… Ben, Mrs Price and Piers. Even Daniel managed to get out of the room — no doubt racing off home to brush his teeth and rinse out the flavour of cock with extra strong mouthwash. Fucking faggot.

“You did all this!” I screamed at Piers. “You!”

It didn’t matter about being quiet now. I knew they were coming for me. Someone would have called the police by now… Someone would have run to the other teachers. Time is against me.

“Fuck you!” hissed Piers. I smashed him in the face with the butt of the gun and he let out of a scream. His front two teeth cracked on impact with the hard metal. That’s going to hurt in the morning.

“No! Fuck you! You did all this.” I raised the butt of the gun back into the air and dropped it down onto his face once more. A loud crack. Was that his nose? He looked dazed. “Don’t you fucking pass out…”

“Stop! What are you doing?” came a voice from the doorway.

I looked up to see the Head Teacher standing there with a look of horror on his face. I pointed the gun directly at him. He put his hands out in front of him as though they’d stop a bullet from flying towards him.

“Tell me about David,” I shouted.

“What?”

“Tell me about David… What sort of person was he?”

There was a slight pause.

“He was a confused la… .” he started.

I pulled the trigger and he dropped dead. David wasn’t confused. David was a victim. We’re all victims. “Because of people like you,” I said to Piers — the final string of my thoughts coming out vocally.

“Please… Don’t kill me…” he said. Have the beatings finally broken him down? Or was it the sight of the Head Teacher and Mrs Price getting a bullet? This ‘hard man’ who gives off an image of someone who won’t be controlled finally broken? I won’t pretend not to be a little disappointed. I was looking forward to hitting him some more but, truth be told, it’s probably for the best. I’m pretty sure I can already hear the sirens in the distance.

“I’m not going to kill you,” I said to Piers. “I want you to live with this. I want you to live with the knowledge you killed Mrs Price. You killed the Head. You killed my mum, you son of a bitch, and David. Even Ben’s death is because of you. Everything that happened… Your fault. Say it…”

“It’s my fault,” he spluttered through broken teeth and bloody gums.

“Louder!” I ordered.

“It’s my fault,” he repeated.

“Shout it!”

“It’s my fault!” he shouted at the top of his voice.

“Again!”

“IT’S MY FAULT!”

The sirens are outside now. They’re here. That’s it. Game over.

“Open your fucking mouth,” I hissed. Piers was crying as he opened his mouth. “Wider!” I told him. Broken boy did as was instructed.

Doors are banging against walls in the corridors beyond the classroom. This is it. The lesson has come to an end. Seconds later there were officers standing in the doorway with guns pointed at me. I’m sure there are more, waiting for their turn to take a pop, in the corridor.

“DROP THE FUCKING GUN!” one of them shouted.

I put my head against Piers face so that my ear was level with his mouth. I swear, despite the shouting police, I could hear his fear coming from his body. And smell it. Broken boy wet himself? I smile spread across my face as I placed the gun against my other ear.

I hope the knowledge he is responsible for all these deaths… I hope it haunts Piers for as long as he lives. If he forgets, I hope the taste of my brains, in his mouth, serves as a distasteful reminder. As I ready myself to squeeze the trigger, I only hope the bullet doesn’t go through my head, and his too. I can’t promise it won’t.

If it does. It’s not the end of the world. Just his. I closed my eyes and readied myself. This is it. I wonder if it will hurt.

“I love you.”

A friendly voice, louder in my head than the shouting police officers and sirens… I opened my eyes. David was standing slightly in front of me.

“I love you,” he said again, “always have.”

I smiled, “I love you too.” All this time and I’ve only just come to realise I was living a lie. No previous girlfriend because, subconsciously, I didn’t want it? I never realised. It doesn’t matter now. “I love you too,” I repeated. I couldn’t help but laugh. All this time I was trying to teach everyone else a lesson. Trying to teach them something, for their lives, and it was me who ended up learning something.

The school, town even, were quick to forget the previous seven who had killed themselves. I bet they aren’t as quick to forget the eighth.

I ignored the shouting, from the doorway, and squeezed the trigger.