Scary Short Story
Scary Short StoryIt was a Friday night, snowing. It was odd weather for March. One week earlier it was 60 degrees, now it’s snowing. She got ready for school, god she hated school. Sometimes thoughts of blowing it up or shooting it up crossed her mind. Then the realization of columbine came, not a good idea. Showering, dressing, and finally makeup. The two-hour process that happened every morning.
She was kind of happy; today she knew her English teacher was not going to be in school. Substitute, but all the good substitutes had left, scared away from the kids. As she strolled into school she didn’t find her boyfriend waiting for her, not odd seeings how he was always late anyways. She went to her first period class, boring as usual. She thought to herself how strange it was that school wasn’t canceled, there was an inch of snow on the ground. “Good,” she thought to herself. The class seemed like it could not get any longer. When the bell rang she realized her boyfriend had not some in. She thought it was odd; today could not go right without him.
Lunchtime rolled around, her and most of her friends’ favorite time of day. They got to socialize without being yelled at. Her boyfriend finally showed up. She asked where he was, and he responded, “Packing.” She knew what this meant; the day was going much smoother. As the couple left lunch they looked at each other and said, “6th period.” She waited and waited the next period until it finally came, 6th period. Most people thought it was odd she was carrying a sports bag, she didn’t play sports, nor was she going to a friend’s house. As the second bell rang, the girl wasn’t in the classroom, neither was her boyfriend. Her best friend thought it was weird that she hadn’t shown up to give her a kiss, although some people found that to be kind of lesbian.
10 minutes into the class everyone wondered where she was, then it happened. Sounds, like trucks hitting the sides of walls at 120 mph, lots of them, then explosions. It sounded like WWII outside, complete with screams and death. The girl and her boyfriend had opened fire on the school, going from room to room with automatic weapons, made from antique guns that had been modified by only an expert. They had made homemade pipe bombs. Pieces of metal fencepost filled with solid ox and sugar, capped, fused, and waxed. As they shot up the school they each saved two clips for people they really hated, the people that would not leave them alone. It was like columbine, even though it’s not what they wanted. Targeting specific people, her boyfriend aimed high, and fired one round into one obnoxious kid. As the bullet hit his head, blood splattered all over the wall, pieces of skull slid across the hallway. People ran from rooms, jumped from windows, and most of all screamed, not 2 minutes had passed when one side of the school blew up, strategically placed bombs, ideas taken from the internet, same ones from OK city. As she walked into one room and raised the gun, she saw her best friend staring back at her in disbelief. Trying to hold back tears the girl aimed at her best friend, but couldn’t do it. Instead she ran out of the room and into the next. Feelings had actually saved the whole class. 5 more minutes had passed, they threw the last of the pipe bombs into the office, as the first went off you could see the principle run for cover, but it was too late, the pipe bombs specially designed to kill threw shrapnel everywhere, even through the filing cabinet in which the principle was hiding. After they threw the guns, they ran to the front parking lot where a black Jetta was waiting to take them away from the dismay.
As they approached the river the driver looked back and stated that it would never work. The couple screamed at him to just drive. At one stoplight the driver popped it into neutral, then popping the clutch slammed into first, screeching the tires. It was doomed to happen anyways, a cop noticed the reckless driving and a pursuit happened. Driving like no one knew how, he sped through the city at 90mph, even with 4 cops chasing him. He turned the radio on, no music was playing, only news reports of the shooting and bombings. The announcer stated 27 dead, and 6 missing, unofficially. The driver told them to hold on and hit 135 on the onramp to the highway. It was the perfect crime gone wrong, all because of the stupid driver. The girl knew she was to die in the car crash; she had a dream of it the night before, but didn’t think any of it. As the car screamed down the highway at 150 mph, the cops fell back, fearing the worst. Around the next turn traffic backed up, the girl knew it was her last view at life. Miraculously the driver hopped over to the shoulder and blew past it, barley missing the jackknifed tractor-trailer. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. As soon as they had avoided death, it came back to haunt them, as the driver breathed and turned to talk, he slammed into the back of a minivan full of preschoolers.
The aftermath was horrible, all the cops could tell was no one had survived the wreck, only the messes of metal and flesh. A bystander told the officers that the sound was like metal on bone on metal, the worst sound he had ever heard. The accident had occurred at such a high speed that the driver of the van had flown through the windshield 100 yards in front of the car into the back of a Ford Focus, ironically the drivers best friend. The two cars were 50 yards apart, but still entwined in each other.
The highway had to be closed for one week to investigate the wreck and clean it up. The amount of bloodshed on the highway was enough to set a memorial for the 6 dead children. The school was closed forever, forced to by the police. None of the faculty survived, except the English teacher who was off, the girl’s favorite teacher. The girls best friend could not get over it and killed one of her other friends in cold blood because of it, and ended up being stabbed later. One of the boys good friends, an African American girl, could not bear to see her dear friend kill everyone, so she committed suicide by robbing a liquor store with a plastic gun. The four not remain in hell for eternity, but together. The rest of the school had to transfer to other schools, at least the survivors. Now on the spot 30 years later nothing stands there, except a playground with a cross-shaped monkey bars. The parents were forced to move out of the country, separate from each other, and start all over. The bloody massacre had eventually killed 43, and injured over 50. The pipe bombs caused damage to 6 houses and hurt one innocent bystander. What ever became of the rest of their friends, no one knew, they were never transferred, but never proclaimed dead. Missing from the world, no one knew.