His life was now confined to the sight of the weapon in his hands. No one had yet noticed it as he sat on the left side of the bus putting round after round into the empty magazine. He had two full clips, each held ten rounds of forty five caliber bullets. These would be fired at his fellow classmates.
For a long time he dreamed of doing this. Then the dreaming....just wasn't enough and he couldn't take it. His life meant nothing to himself. And as these thoughts whirled through his head one in particular grabbed his attention.
How had he got here?
To be continued if people like it.....
To him this didnt matter. To this particular teen all that did matter was revenge for the wrong done against him. The list was quite long if he were to name eberything that happened. Yet in the end he would die mistaken for a crazy person with a gun, a poor unloved psycho rejected by all. In his mind however his actions would be a publicly beneficial display of outrage. Most would disagree however claiming he was insane. Or is this person completely sane and calm in his actions.
The slide was pulled back putting a round in the chamber. The time was now. The dirty bus rumbled to halt at the glaring red stop light. How funny he thought that the stopping symbol was red.
Then he stood gun drawn and put the barrel to the stupified student passenger next to him. He squeezed the trigger( never pull) and watched the spray of blood splatter against the window. It took aproximately two seconds for people to figure out that many people were about to die. Then the bus driver who was trying to dial the police went down with part of her head missing. Then he fired eight more rounds into variois bodies watching the blood splatter everywhere. One student through up all over himself from disgust and terror.......
He breathed deeply into the silence and filled his nose with the sweet aroma of success! Blood was every where and he could hear sirens. The bus had cleared out just as he was finishing up. The sirens neared as he pressed the button and caught the magazine that slid out. Empty. He pressed one more round in breathing calmly. He put the barrel to his head slowly then squeezed the trigger letting loose the fort five calibur round to his head painting the ceiling red and pink with nice flecks of white. The swat team entered guns drawn screaming to find all inside to be dead.
THE END