Lockdown

Chapter 7~ Science with Daman

pound. Before I knew what I was doing, I was bursting out of the chemical cupboard and into the big bad outdoors. The surprise on his face was a small victory and a small victory is better than none.

There were a small number of gasps around the room. I tried not to look at the remains of Millie but my brain did that car crash thing and I found my eyes sneaking glances at the gruesome grave.

“Well look who decided to show his face.” The guy had a nasally voice, one of those voice that immeadiantly got onto your nerves.

 “And look who decided not to use their nasal spray today.”

You know how some people have coping strategies to deal with a crap situation? Well I had found mine.

There were some unsure sniggers, soft enough only I could hear. Strange enough, the approval of my class mates gave me confidence, something I had always tried to avoid. The guy, however, was not coping as well.  His pock marked face scrunched up into an ugly snarl and the deadly looking gun was aimed straight at me.

“I’ll kill you, you little brat.” My mother had always told me that my smart mouth would get me into trouble. Damn. Mothers are always right.

“So the only time you can stick up for yourself is when you have a giant-freaking-huge gun in your hand?”

No one laughed this time. The air in the room got tenser. I had crossed a line. Not only had I crossed it but I spat and shit all over it too.  Kind of like I was doing in my pants right now. And that sounded very wrong.

“You have seriously f***ked up, man!” The shout echoed through the classroom, harsh and real and honest-to-God scary.  “Yep, and don’t you know it.” What the hell was wrong with me? What couldn’t I just shut up?  “DON”T MESS WITH ME!” His upper lip was quivering with rage and he brandished the automatic hand gun right at my head. Shit, Shit, Shit and freaking-hell-I’m going to die, shit.

With exaggerated movements he stepped over Millie’s body and the upturned desk, stopping only when he stood close enough to me that he could put the gun in the middle of my head. The cold metal was definitely a wakeup call and I tried to moisten my dry mouth by swallowing. “You don’t want to kill me.” I said, or rather pleaded. The guy just blinked at me, his upper lip sweating.

“No, I’m pretty sure I do.”

“As long as we got that sorted out then.” He narrowed his eyes at me, confused. I felt the pressure on my forehead intensify, the gun pressing deeper. “I’ve had enough of your Smart Alec retorts.” His face twisted into an ugly snarl. “And I’ve had enough of your ugly face, but you don’t see me complaining.” The gun was away from my forehead but I only felt a second of relief as it came crushing down on the side of my head. I stumbled, collapsing at the bottom of the door. The guy came up to me, looming like a giant. “Bet you weren’t expecting that.”

“Well, if I was I would be pretty pessimistic.” I was starting to think my mouth didn’t have an off switch. Even though my voice was croaky with pain, I still couldn’t shut up. He aimed the gun at my face again. “Oh, no! Not the face!” I heard a frantic whisper of ‘shut up!’ and I mouthed back ‘I’m trying!’ It felt like the room was spinning and only the gun guy and I were stationery. I pressed my back against the door, the impossible idea of breaking through the glass causing my unreliable actions. “You are going to die, you insolent little dork.”

I tried. I really did. But the words just welled up inside of me, like a balloon. And you all know what happens when you blow a balloon up too much.

“That’s a big word for such a little guy.” I wasn’t in any position to argue, curled up at the base of a door. “Shut up, Daman!” I didn’t know who screamed, but it made me shiver inside. I had never thought my classmates had cared for me, but by the raw intensity of her voice, I was being proven wrong. I didn’t dare look around the room; I didn’t want to see the cowering form of my peers.

He smashed the gun into the side of my head again and this time I saw stars and felt hot sticky blood drip from my temple. Some people screamed. It didn’t matter; my head was ringing too much to make the sound seem loud. “You like being a smartass? Well, I would like you to be dead!”

“That’s excellent gramma.”

“Do you want to die?”

“That’s a stupid question.” This time he kicked me in the stomach and I felt all my breath leave my body. There were more screams. The guy had a look in his eye and not the ‘were-made-for-each-other-baby’ look but more like the ‘i-will-kill-you-slowly-and-painfully’ look. I stopped speaking. The classroom quietened until it was just me and him. Smiling, he could read my expression. Oh, God I was freaking scared. I closed my eyes as the cold pressure of the gun rested into my forehead.

I was going to die.