The D Games

Chapter 30

Looking back on that day now, it seems so unreal. I often question myself about if it actually happened. I know it did, I relive it in my sleep a lot. Not to mention the letters, but I'll get to those in a second.  

When the shooting finally stopped everything was a blur. We were ushered out of the building quickly and stuffed into the back of an ambulance.  

I only saw a little bit of the scene before the doors closed, but I saw enough. There was blood, and I wasn't sure who it belonged to. Was it from Jason, the police, or the crazy boys?  

The small rushed walk from the building to the ambulance made me, Janessa, and Jason pretty famous. Students that hadn't left for Holiday were crowded around the barriers, along with random nosey people and news crews.  

Before we even made it to the hospital, we were splattered all over the television. They were calling us "The Survivors," since the school refused to give out our names.  

That night changed a lot at our school. The parents finally cared less about our privacy and more about our safety. We actually had a nurse that gave out meds, instead of trusting the students to do it themselves. More security guards were hired, and the teachers no longer patrolled the halls. We actually had the guards watching our every move.  

No one really liked it except me, Jason, and Janessa. No one else had gone through what we had, so they didn't understand. Every time I saw someone in that gray uniform, I felt safer.  

The Games that had once been so secretive, were now public information. Thankfully, the school still had no idea who was in them, well except for Jameson and Blane. I had been questioned about them, but I lied, obviously.  

James, being the most amazing guy in the world, burnt anything that I had that was connected to the games. Sadly, that included my phone. I wasn't worried about the police finding out, no one wanted to admit they knew anything about the games, let alone admit they were a part of it. Technically, the Games were still a big secret, one that all of us were willing to keep buried.  

Now, on to the stuff you guys really want to know about.  

Jason and I are now a couple. Yes, we made it official. There is something about facing death that just brings two people together. He is currently doing general studies at a local community college until I graduate. He is super protective of me now, so he wasn't ok with being too far away from me.  

In three months I graduate high school, then after the summer, we are both going to Harvard in Boston. He picked the college, I just agreed. It's amazing what schools you can just get into when you have enough money.  

James and Janessa are still together. It was rocky at first, after that night, but they worked through it. Once we got out of the hospital, Janessa had a hard time accepting the fact that James and I were a part of the games. She actually didn't talk to either of us for a little over a month. James didn't give up on her. He pretty much stalked her until she caved, it took him about one month and five days to crack her. Then, shortly after, she came back to me. We are pretty much inseparable now. In fact, they too are joining us in Boston. 

It's hard to trust new people, even old friends, after such an extreme event. All four of us felt like we could only trust each other. It may sound drastic, but that's how we were comfortable. We went from four extremely popular people to four people who only talked to each other. Maybe one day we can get over it and things could go back to normal, but I'm in no rush.  

Now, Blane and Jameson.  

Blane was far worse than any of us knew. In fact he was far worse than his doctors knew. His file only gave us a tiny glimpse into his problems. It turns out that he had hospitalized four times for manic episodes, under different names. During these times he had attacked two doctors and three nurses. He had no real grasp on reality, and once he got Jameson off his medications, he took him down too.  

I didn't know that night, but Blane was the one who shot first. The police told me later that once I had hit the ground, Jameson dropped his gun and did the same thing. Not Blane though, he fired at the police until his gun was empty and then picked up Jameson's and did the same thing. The police had no choice but to fire back.  

Blane died of multiple gunshot wounds.  

Jameson only suffered a wound to his right shoulder, where a stray bullet grazed him. His weird moment of clarity, when he dropped his gun and hit the floor, is the only thing that saved his life. Jameson admitted to assaulting two girls, and admitted to him and Blane making and being in the Games. He didn't say anything about anyone else.  

Jameson was old enough to go straight to prison, but somehow the bulk of the blame went to Blane. The lawyer that was assigned to Jameson also used the fact that he wasn't in his right mind. Jameson is now in a mental institution until he is twenty-one. Once he hits that age he will be evaluated, if they find him able to function in society, he will be released under supervision. Two years of supervision later, he will be free of it all, except a weekly therapy session that is court ordered for the next ten years.  

How do I know all this, you ask? Well, this is where those letters come into play that I was talking about earlier.  

Jameson writes me letters. I get one every single day. He tells me about his day, how his therapy went, how he takes his meds, and if he had any problems. He also tells me how much he misses me and loves me. It's a very confusing situation to be in. 

Yes, I had feelings for him, but I think I lost them. That moment that he pointed the gun at me, it changed something in me. I was no longer worried for him, I was terrified of him. In my dreams, I see him pointing that gun in my face. That's how I remember him. Crazed look in his eyes, holding a gun at me and pulling the trigger. Even though he never actually pulled the trigger, my mind still sees him shooting me. I'm not sure why. 

I don't see the sweet guy that he is in his letters, or the cocky guy he was before he lost it. Maybe that's why I could never write him back.  

Jason knows nothing about the letters, and until I know I how I feel about them, he will continue not to know.  

I have no more lessons for you, I have no more advice. Looking back, I don't even know if I was learning from all my mistakes. Some days it feels like I knew what I was supposed to learn, but I ignored it. Maybe if I would have taken my own advice, I would have never ended up in the crazy situation that I did.  

All that really doesn't matter though. I try hard to forget that time in my life. I wouldn't say that I am moving on, but I am moving forward. I'm not completely over what has happened to me, but I refuse to allow it to define me. I won't be that poor girl stalked by a crazy boy. I won't be that sad girl who almost died. And I will not be that girl who survived that crazy situation. I will not be defined by that night or those events. 

So for right now, I'm just Carlie.