Got Me Goin' Crazy-Michael Conor

Chapter 24

Michael's POV
I was supposed to perform next, but I felt awful.

Sam deserved to be mad at me. I should never have done that to her.

But she should have told me that Ethan was harassing her...

But my part was way worse. And I still hadn't told her about the creepy notes I'd been receiving.

I'd been terrified this whole week about this night, worrying that something would happen to her.

I was sitting backstage, trying to get ahold of myself. I was supposed to perform in five minutes.

Screams and gunshots reached my ears and I took off running.

The only way to get out into the gym was on the stage, so I ran through the curtain up onto the stage.

Mr. Jackson, the fired history teacher, was holding Sam by the hair in one hand, and shooting with a gun in his other hand.

My heart dropped. He was the one.

Students ran around, screaming, getting behind things to hide.

I looked around as all of my friends and my classmates ran around in different directions.

People lay on the ground. Some had been shot.

I couldn't see through the mass of people to be able to make out who they were.

This was all my fault.

Mr. Jackson stopped shooting and saw me and smirked.

"Ah, if it isn't Mr. Michael Conor. Have you been enjoying your mail?"

I clenched my fists, slowly walking down the stairs of the stage, trying to look braver than I felt.

"It's you."

He laughed. "But of course! I'm surprised you didn't know. Your girlfriend here had had my attention since the first day of school. I guess she didn't inform you."

"Michael-" Sam started, but he yanked on her hair, causing her to gasp in pain.

"Shut up," he told her.

"What letters are you talking about?" Sam asked, then winced, expecting him to do something to her for talking.

"Oh I've been taunting your boyfriend about this night for a long time. Notes in his locker, letters in his mailbox, and even texts on his phone. Did he not tell you about any of this?"

Sam just looked at me, and I looked down.

I'm a horrible boyfriend. Brady had been right.

"Looks like you guys were having problems anyway. See? You're better off with me, babygirl," he whispered in her ear.

"Stop," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Chance appeared beside me just then.

"Cops are on the way," he whispered.

"Where's the school security guard?" I whispered back.

"Dead."

I gulped. This was bad.

"We have a plan. Keep stalling," he whispered, then he was gone.

"So what're you gonna do? What do you want?" I asked Mr. Jackson.

The teacher smirked. "Well, I'm gonna have some fun with your girl here. But first, I've gotta get rid of you."

"No!!" Sam sobbed.