He Comes

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I let our a shriek of terror, then quickly cover my mouth. I believe I saw Bernie throw up a bit. What's going on? How did this monster enter the school?

"We gotta hide,"  I thought

 I grab Bernie by the hand and throw him into the first stall. I then go into the second one, sit on the toilet seat and raise my feet. I hope Bernie had the same idea.

Just as I get my feet off the floor, I hear loud footsteps coming in. I froze. What was gonna happen?

"Anyone in her?" I hear a voice laugh maniacally. It isn't any voice I've heard before. He had some kind of southern accent, but his tone was all over the place.

"I said, is there anyone in here!?" he says louder. 

BANG!

"Stop!" Bernie exclaims

"Oh so there is someone in her," he kicks the stall door open, "why didn't you say so?"

BANG!

The last thing that came out of Bernie's mouth was a scream.

A tear went down my eye. Another person just died, right in front of me, while I was hiding behind a stall door. No more deaths on his hands.

"AHHHH" I screech. I pull open the stall door and punched him across his face. He was a little chubby, probably weighing 220. He had wide brimmed glasses, and he was wearing a white t shirt and jeans. He has a huge gap in between his two front teeth. Speaking of his teeth, most were black and filled with cavities. My guess is he did a lot of smoking. I would've been scared to see him in any other situation, and you'd think I'd be more scared of him now considering what happened. But for some reason, I wasn't.

His hand was on the floor, so I decided to slam down on it with my foot. He let out a howl of pain, and dropped his gun to tend to his hand. Idiot. I then grabbed the gun, and pointed it at him. Once, when my dad was drunk, he gave me a gun to play with. I went outside and practiced shooting at the trees. This was when I was 7, so I didn't really understand recoil. As soon as I shot, the gun (from the blow back) hit me square in the nose and I was bleeding.

I continued to do this until I could shoot without letting go. Skills like that came in handy in this situation. I looked at him, right in the eye, and I saw...fear. He was scared. He went out in this terrorist mission, why? I surely wasn't about to ask him, but I didn't know if I wanted to shoot him.

But one look at Bernie, laying there lifelessly, fueled me, angered me, and I made up my mind this man must die for his crime against humanity.

"W-Wait!" he says in desperation.

I cocked my head but kept the gun pointed to him.

"Why should I?" I say tightening my finger on the trigger.

"I n-never had anything! My parents d-died right in front of me, when a c-crazed gunman shot them because they didn't give him their money! Th-This school, this hell, was never accepting of me. I walked the halls b-being hit, kicked, abused, tortured, so for years I p-plotted this. Years of t-teaching myself how t-to use a gun, where to shoot, and I was successful. Do you understand  what I go through everyday of my l-life because of my mentality?" He says in one breath

I thought for a couple seconds. I knew exactly what he's saying, but a person on this planet with that intentions don't deserve to live

"Yes," I say coldly

BANG!

The bullet went straight through his head.  He hit the wall, and fell down. He's dead. After I shot, I had a little bit of thinking to do. Does he know what it's like for your parents to not even have cared for you? Does he know what it's like to be tortured, not for being weird, but for having a higher level intelligence? He has no right to go out shooting this school with those intentions.

But I did.

I now have a job to finish. 


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