From Behind Broken Glass Walls
by N.M. Aaroones
Drachea couldn’t handle seeing Emmalynne with a bullet through her chest. As Drachea lay over Emmalynne’s body, she didn’t care that Emmalynne’s blood was soaking through her clothes. Drachea was sure that she had killed Emmalynne, and that realization brought back all the pain she had suppressed. Drachea now felt awake, and as she looked over the locker room and out into the gym, she was filled with agony. Some of the students she had shot were still alive and crying out. Their cries were a sound that Drachea hoped to never hear again. She couldn’t handle hearing them. It made Drachea feel as though all the bullets that had gone into them were now inside of her.
Drachea had wanted revenge against a select few, but somewhere along her way she had seen everyone as she saw Sutton and Conrad. Drachea hadn’t meant to spread the pain she had been feeling; she had just wanted relief. But the pain Drachea had spread ended up being ten times worse than the pain she had felt on her own.
Drachea wasn’t even sure if she felt satisfied after shooting Sutton and Conrad. Shooting them had made her numb; she didn’t felt relieved, and she didn’t know what else could make her feel the way that she wanted to feel.
She closed her eyes to block out the scene around her, but Drachea remembered that she still had the gun. The idea of the relief that the gun could give her was all that could save her now.
As Drachea reopened her eyes, the world went silent and stopped. Her mind flashed through every good memory that it could muster up, but as Drachea came to the memories she had of Emmalynne, she dwelled on them .
Drachea loved Emmalynne. Emmalynne had trusted her, but Drachea had betrayed her. The pain of that realization ripped through her chest. Drachea realized that if Emmalynne hadn’t come into her path, Drachea wouldn’t have woken up from her fantasy. Drachea was responsible for everything she had done. Emmalynne had woken Drachea up, and Drachea deserved t o feel all the pain that she was now experiencing.
But if Emmalynne hadn’t come in her line of fire, Drachea would have never had the chance to say goodbye.
Drachea didn’t want to live, and she hadn’t wanted to live for a long time. Her pain was too profound and incurable. Conrad had claimed her body when he had assaulted her, and she couldn’t take it back for herself. She had hoped that someone, maybe a police officer, would shoot her down in the school, but no one had even tried.
There had been no one to save any of them.
Drachea took the rifle from the floor beside her and pushed it right into her stomach. She pushed it so deep that just the pressure of it hurt. Drachea looked down at Emmalynne, tearing up, and kissed her on the cheek before pulling herself away. She stood and looked down at her.
“I love you,” Drachea told Emmalynne, aware that Emmalynne couldn’t hear her. But it didn’t matter; all that mattered was that she had said it. Drachea closed her eyes and tried to fill her mind with images of Emmalynne, but in the end, all she could see was her mother.
And then the gun went off.