Dear Terrorists,

Chapter 4

"Jennie!" shouted Joe's muffled voice through her bedroom door. "Jennie, wake up!"

Jennie popped up from her bed in a sudden panic. Confused, she quickly turned her from sided to side in search of a person's voice.

"Jennie! Come on! It's time to go!" persisted Joe, now slamming on the door with his closed fist.

"I'm coming," yawned Jennie, not loud enough for Joe to hear.

Joe continued to pound on the door with his fist.

"I'm," began Jennie after a long morning stretch interrupted her speech. "I'm up!"

She rolled out of bed and opened the door to find her shouting brother on the other side.

"Come on, I'm leaving in like five minutes, let's go," he urged, turning away to head back downstairs.

"I'm coming," she groggily replied, hustling to the bathroom to get ready.

Jennie ran out of the door towards Joe's car in the driveway, which was puttering even louder than his music. She hopped in the car and quickly strapped on her seatbelt. She had been in such a hurry she had forgotten about David's diary.

Jennie liked learning, but hated school—in large part thanks to the people in it, including her nuisance brother, but more so the egotistical pretenders and bullies. She dreaded the morning announcements that the outgoing students volunteered to take on to congratulate the sports teams and to wish a "happy birthday" to the popular kids while mispronouncing the unpopular kids' names.

"Congratulations to the Buford High baseball team for an exciting season and to Cory Winnings for earning team MVP," began the lispy girl's voice. "And a big happy birthday to Jeremy Mayle from all your friends here at Buford. Have a nice day!"

"Whose birthday did they just say?" asked Jennie to her nearest neighbor in homeroom.

The girl next to her cocked her neck backwards like a snake, preparing to dive-attack its prey. Her upper lip rose towards right eye in disgust that Jennie Farr had asked her a question.

"What did you just say?" the disgusted girl asked in vocal fry.

"Did they say it was Jeremy Mayle's birthday?" continued Jennie, ignoring her neighbor's reaction. "Oh my gosh."

"Why? Do you like him or something?" giggled the girl as she looked around for attention.

Jennie stood up from her seat and approached her teacher.

"May I please use the restroom?" she asked.

"The bell just rang, you couldn't use it before class started?" asked her teacher, Mrs. McClellan.

"I didn't have to then," she replied with impatience.

"Fine, go. Hurry up," insisted Mrs. McClellan as he began to call attendance.

Jennie raced out of the classroom and up to her locker. She frantically searched her book bag for David's diary, without success.

"Where is it?" she hissed under her breath, gritting her teeth. "I need to find it!"

"What do you need to find?" asked a voice behind her.

"Oh!" she jumped, turning around. "Oh, nothing."

"You're looking for nothing?" asked David Plessy.

He was young, tall and thin. His blonde hair was noticeably thinning in the corners of his cranium. His acned cheeks indented far into his face, his chin blonde with peachfuzz.

"Yes, I mean, no," panicked Jennie, her hands and fingers noticeably shaking.

"Well that doesn't make much sense," replied David as he turned to walk away.

He had a look of concern on his face.

They had both lied to each other—and they both knew it.

Jennie was shaking even more now. Her nerves were tingling throughout her body. She peered down the hallway from behind her open locker door. David Plessy strutted away from her, carrying a book bag strapped tightly to his back. She stared at him while he walked all the way to the end of the long hallway, then saw him swing his book bag off his shoulder and onto the floor in front of him. She heard the metallic clanking sound echo down the hallway when the bag struck the ceramic tile floor.

David did not hesitate. He did not look around to make sure nobody saw him. He unzipped his book bag and pulled out a handgun from his bag. It was not a big gun, but was nonetheless visibly noticeable, even to Jennie, from down the hallway.

David cocked the gun and opened the door that stood directly in front of him. He slipped inside the classroom and slammed the door shut behind him.

Still tingling in shock, Jennie sprinted towards the room that David Plessy just entered. She arrived breathing heavily and pressed her face against the windowless door.

"Where is he?" asked David Plessy before raising his voice when no one responded. "I said, where is he!"

Desk legs screeched against the tile floor; Jennie envisioned the students sliding onto the ground from their seats. She then heard a slam, followed by shrieks of panic.

"David, you don't realize what you're doing, please," pleaded an elderly voice.

The voice was remarkably calm, belonging to that of Mrs. McClellan.

"I know exactly what I'm doing!" shrilled David in reply with a tone of the devil filling his voice.

Jennie's eyes began to moisten and tear up. She heard cries seemingly multiply inside the door.

"Where is he?" shouted David once more, growing more frustrated.

"Who is he?" asked a brave man's voice, followed by the screech of one desk's movement.

Absolute silence existed for just one short second; it seemed much longer to Jennie.

"You!" shrilled David.

A loud pop echoed throughout the room, causing Jennie to jump back from pressing her face against the door. She tripped over David Plessy's book bag that he had left on the hallway floor in front of Mrs. McClellan's classroom door.

The quiet cries and sniffles quickly transformed into loud cries of mercy and screams of bloody murder. Now lying on the hallway floor outside murder scene, Jennie kicked her feet to push herself further away. Amid the loud cries, she heard an unknown number—perhaps all—of the desks screeching across the floor just a dozen feet away, only a wall and door separating her from the harrowing scene.

Suddenly, the door popped open and David Plessy emerged with a look of evil terror smeared across his face. He stopped and glared at Jennie lying on the ground, her head now backed up against the wall of lockers. He breathed loudly, and sprinted down the hallway, firing shots up into the ceiling tiles, as his loud steps seemed faint amid the wild gunshots.

"All teachers, please lock your doors immediately," announced the secretary's voice over the loud speaker.

David Plessy stopped at the end of the hallway, where Jennie's open locker was. He snapped his head and looked up, then sprinted in a circle and snapped his head back and forth. He looked possessed. He sprinted back down the hallway towards Jennie, and then stopped. His sneakers screeched down the hallway as he once again stopped and turned around to sprint in the opposite direction, this time away from Jennie. He stopped once more and, standing with his feet wide apart, froze in position with his feet still widened. He looked back in Jennie's direction; Jennie was too far away to know if he was looking at her or just back towards the direction of his mayhem. He placed his right hand up to his chin and pulled the trigger without providing a chance for another of his loud, demonic breaths.

David Plessy's body jolted, then collapsed to the ground as soon as the loud gunshot popped and echoed down the hallway.