Margo's Lullaby

by Groves, B.

  And, it scared her to death.

  She knew Pam was right. They needed to work with each other to work through their history.

  She found it so complicated, but so wonderful at the same time. There was part of her that wanted to push him away and tell him her life was toxic. He should find someone better, but his concern and his kisses made all those doubts fade for a while.

  “Oh shit!” Dean burst out as they sat at Gabby’s dining table.

  They had showered together about an hour ago, and Gabby blushed as she thought of how fun it was.

  He’d gone over to his house, grabbed his laptop, and changed his clothes. He had papers to grade and wanted to get a head start.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I completely forgot I have to go the school and set up my equipment for tomorrow’s practice.”

  Gabby swallowed hard at the mention of Seven Hills. Dean had told her that getting the job there was therapeutic for him. He told her he took a good six months before he could step into the library again.

  “Okay,” Gabby said. “I’ll be good here.”

  Dean shook his head and closed his laptop. “No, I want you to come with me.”

  With his words, Gabby stood from the chair and backed away from him. Her eyes widened, and her mouth parted, but only a strangled sound came from between her lips.

  What was he trying to do to her? Why would he even suggest that?

  With all the turmoil, she didn’t have one panic attack the whole weekend, and now those familiar feelings returned. The flight or fight was coming full throttle right into her mind sweeping away any logical thought.

  Her breathing became shallow, and the room spun around. Her heart was now racing to an unknown finish line inside her chest. Her palms were damp from sweat.

  The school. No. Not the school. She couldn’t do it. She could never see that place again. She faced enough of her fears this weekend. The memorial… Dean… wasn’t that good enough?

  What was wrong with him?

  Strong hands were on her shoulders and shaking her slightly.

  “Gabby? Gabby. Look at me.”

  “Why are you being so cruel?” Gabby gasped.

  “That is not my intention at all,” Dean pleaded. “I know it’s been a hell of a weekend, but you need to do this. If we want to move on—together—then you have to face the very spot that holds your demons.”

  Dean put his forehead to Gabby’s.

  “It’s hard. It’s so… so hard, but you don’t give yourself enough credit with how strong you are,” he said. “I’ll be right there with you.”

  Gabby pulled back and turned away from him. She crossed her arms over her chest in an effort to calm her raging emotions.

  “I don’t think I’m ready,” she muttered.

  “I think you are.”

  Gabby turned back to Dean. She was fighting back tears. Deep down within the tortured depths of her soul, she knew he was right. That if they were to move on together she needed to face her own worst fears.

  “I’m not supposed to go into the school, remember?” She tried one last argument.

  Dean scoffed. “The school always said they installed great security after Margo, but that’s bullshit. The security officer will be half-asleep, and I can slip him twenty bucks. Nobody checks the cameras.”

  “No one will be there except us,” Dean said. “It will be our moment, just you and me.”

  Gabby turned towards Margo’s portrait on the mantle. She swallowed about a dozen times trying to suppress the screams and the gunshots that were bubbling to the surface of her conscious mind.

  Even though she wasn’t standing in the school, she could practically taste the smoke in the air, hear the shrill sound of the fire alarms blaring in the background. Her nostrils picked up the coppery scent of blood until Margo turned the corner forever changing their lives.

  “You need to do this,” Dean reiterated.

  “What if a reporter is following me around?” Gabby asked.

  “Then we’ll deal with it,” Dean said. “I already know what’ll happen to me tomorrow, and I will deal with that.”

  Gabby took a step back in surprise. She thought about Dean perhaps facing consequences of them being seen together, but him saying the words was a slap of reality.

  “If your job is on the line—”

  “Gabby, I can handle it. If Michael gives me any shit, then I will get my union rep involved.”

  Gabby sighed in resignation. It was obvious Dean wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

  “You can do this.”

  Gabby nodded and finished getting dressed while Dean ran back to his house to grab his jacket, and some folder he needed to put on his desk for the morning.

  They decided to take Dean’s truck, and Gabby found herself numb as they drove to the school.

  She couldn’t help but smile finding that the way Dean drove there was almost exactly like her old bus route while in school.

  Gabby leaned against the window setting her gaze on the passing clouds in the sky. The sun had been in and out of the clouds all day, and rain was in the forecast the next week.

  The trees were blooming, and by April, the area would be beautiful with Spring in the air.

  They turned onto an entrance and were on the main road that led to the school.

  Gabby’s heartbeat drummed in her ears, she wiped her palms on her jeans wishing the sweat to disappear. The anxiety was like bile almost choking her and forcing her to breathe deeply.

  It was very rare Gabby turned to medications to help calm her panic attacks, but tonight would be a night for an Ativan.

  Dean’s fingers weaved his way through hers as he drove. She turned and smiled at him appreciating his support throughout this whole ordeal.

  “You know, even though you read the report, and saw what happened, you didn’t have to say a word to me,” Gabby commented.

  “First of all, I didn’t know,” Dean said. “I always believed the other stories and thought what was the point of checking up on it. Your family and you left, it was over. Then seeing you at the gym that morning…”

  “Was a shock?”

  Dean sucked in a breath and squeezed her hand. “It was… a shock. I didn’t know how to handle it. Everything I always thought I knew came to the surface again.” Dean shook his head. “It’s not an excuse… I can never be too sorry for treating you that way in the gym and on the walking trail.”

  “You don’t have to mention it again,” Gabby said. “I accepted your apology, and it’s about moving on now, right?”

  “Right.”

  Gabby tensed in the seat when Dean turned down the small street that took them to the school. She noticed the new houses that hadn’t been there before.

  She tried taking a few deep breaths and forced herself to keep her eyes open.

  Around the corner, there it sat.

  It was just how she remembered it.

  The new performing arts center had long been finished and blocked out the main entrance on the left side, and she could see the new library sticking out from the right side.

  Gabby felt another squeeze of her hand, and Dean had to let go to park.

  She bowed her head, saying a silent prayer, and asking any higher power to help her through this.

  “We’ll go in through the junior parking lot entrance,” Dean said.

  The weather turned cooler, but Gabby was shaking from her own memories.

  Gabby got out of Dean’s truck and soaked in the silence of a Sunday afternoon.

  Her memories brought back the day she was escorted away, seeing nothing but police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances with their flashing lights. Students and teachers standing in the parking lot reuniting with anxious family members. She remembered the police officer telling her to put her head down so she wouldn’t be seen. She was in such shock, she listened to him, and never looked back until now.

  Her eyes were drawn to the new library. Her sister’
s and the other five victims final moments were in that area, and Gabby knew ghosts would be appearing to her today whether she wanted them to or not.

  Gabby was in a trance now as Dean took the lead while they walked over to the double doors.

  This is where Margo came in the last time, thinking of the irony of how she’d use this entrance today.

  The bushes where Margo hid the guns had been removed. All that was left was green grass and empty flowerbeds.

  Dean stopped to ring an outside bell that Gabby didn’t remember being there before. Gabby looked through the windows and could only see a narrow, dark hallway.

  She turned away when a figure appeared at the end of the hallway and walked towards the door.

  The security officer had to be in his early seventies with white hair, and wrinkles so deep you could lose your hand in them. He opened the door and was wearing a dark gray uniform of the vendor the school used for security.

  “He’s only the weekend guard,” Dean commented when they were driving there.

  “Hello, Mister Walker,” The guard greeted Dean with a friendly smile.

  “Hey, Dennis. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  Dennis’s sharp blue eyes turned to Gabby, and he blinked several times when he recognized her.

  Gabby almost turned and walked away, but Dean blocked her from his gaze. They stepped just inside the double doors to talk.

  The conversation lasted less than a minute.

  Dean came out a gestured for Gabby to enter. Dennis’s eyes were guarded with her, but he smiled regardless.

  “Miss Ryan,” he said.

  “Thank you, sir, for allowing this,” Gabby said.

  “It’s my pleasure, ma’am,” he answered.

  Gabby jumped when the door slammed behind her.

  “Don’t worry about the tapes,” Dennis said with a wink. “They’ll get a little blurry.”

  “Thanks, Dennis.”

  It was time. Gabby stood staring at Dennis’s departing figure and waited for him to turn the corner.

  Her memories of her school days were re-surfacing. This was the junior wing. The lockers were color-coded for each grade of students. The bright yellow of the junior lockers almost blinded her as they contrasted against the dark gray concrete walls.

  All the classroom doors were dark and locked.

  The Stinger Bee logo and signs for the upcoming sporting events donned the walls.

  It seemed so small to her now. Such a small school that will forever be entwined to a tragedy that played out on national news.

  Dean grasped her hand, and they walked through the hall.

  They walked past a glass case of trophies for sporting events, and pictures of the teams set behind each trophy.

  Banners were hung above some of the lockers, and Gabby read they were looking to vote for a theme for the upcoming prom.

  The smell of cleaning fluid penetrated her nose, and the tile floors shined from a weekend cleaning.

  Gabby hadn’t realized how far they walked until they passed the main hallway to her left.

  “We’re almost there,” Dean said.

  Gabby almost bumped into Dean when he suddenly stopped. He turned and put his arms around her and then guided her to look to her right.

  Gabby saw the new atrium. She saw the trees painted with the names of the dead, the plaques, and the floor with the school logo on it.

  She saw everything, except she didn’t.

  She was lost now. Lost of the world of her memories. Her therapist always found it fascinating that she could recite the events of that day so clearly from her mind.

  It was starting again. She didn’t remember when she sank to the floor and relived the moment Margo—her sweet little sister—turned into a killer.

  Chapter 22

  Gabby ducked closer to Dean as the gunshots fired around her.

  “Oh God,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes closed.

  She muttered the Lord’s Prayer and asking forgiveness for anything bad she may have done in her life.

  She glanced down at Dean, who was unconscious in her arms. Gabby chanced looking up once again. She wanted to know where Margo was. She wanted to know who was shooting up their school. Why them? Why pick this small high school in this small town?

  The screams were all around her, but Gabby was frozen in place. She wouldn’t leave Dean, no matter what happened she would leave him there to bleed to death on the floor.

  Smoke was filling the room, and the fire alarms were blaring and blinking around her. The fire sprinklers were raining down on them.

  She heard someone yell out, and then another gunshot echoed through the library.

  She chanced another glance and could see a figure moving around on the other side of the bookcase.

  There was a sudden silence around her, but the room tingled with electricity that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

  Who was the shooter? Who was it? Gabby wondered in spite of her fear.

  “Gab—”

  Gabrielle looked down to see Dean coming to. “Shh,” she whispered near his ear. “Don’t talk.”

  Gabby lifted her head. She wanted to sob but knew she had to keep quiet. She wanted to go beyond sobbing and scream for help, but no help was coming yet.

  Her heart flipped in her chest when her eyes turned to Jake White. His eyes forever frozen in a death stare and turned towards the ceiling. Blood slowly dripping from the hole in his head with his mouth hanging open.

  Gabby could see another body lying on the floor near her, and then her eyes turned to the right. Was that Jennifer?

  No! Oh, no…

  Gabby’s felt fresh tears run down her face when she spotted Jennifer slumped on her side.

  She grabbed Dean and pulled him closer.

  Gabby flinched when another gunshot rang out right near her.

  The fear was paralyzing her now as she heard light footsteps near her. Gabby took one last look down at Dean’s face. He was unconscious again, and she hoped that if she didn’t make it, perhaps he’d still have a chance.

  The figure turned the corner of the bookcase. Gabby’s body tensed. She thought about her life, and how she would lose it so young. She often questioned if there was life after death. Her parents were devoted Catholics. Heavily involved in their church, but Gabby wondered when they used to attend church every Sunday.

  Gabby’s heart pounded against her chest so hard, she thought she might break one of her ribs.

  She would not go without facing her killer. She would die with some dignity.

  She turned her eyes to Dean one last time. “I’m sorry we never got together.”

  The figure stood in front of her now. Gabby turned her eyes back to face him.

  Except… it wasn’t another student or even a male student…

  Gabby's heart was violently ripped out of her chest the moment she saw the Seven Hills High School shooter.

  The gaze of the killer would forever be embedded in her mind. The eyes mirrored her own, the only difference was Gabby’s held fear, and her stare was blank. Dark blue… almost a midnight color as some people used to tell them.

  Blonde, wavy hair framed the face of a younger version of her.

  Gabby must have gasped. She wasn’t sure. She couldn’t breathe or was she hyperventilating now?

  “Margo?”

  Gabby had to say her sister’s name; it was the only way she could accept who was standing in front of her.

  The guns were at her side. One in each hand. Gabby recognized her father’s firearms.

  Margo’s face never changed expressions. It was… a blank stare as Margo looked down at her sister.

  Gabby recovered from her shock. She sobbed when the unbearable truth of what Margo was doing came full circle.

  “Margo! Stop! Please! Don’t do this! Stop!”

  Gabby had to yell over the fire alarms and hoped Margo was listening.

  She shook her head several times wondering how her
sister came to this point.

  She met Margo’s gaze again. Margo blinked several times but stayed silent.

  Her mouth turned down while she lifted one gun and pointed it at Gabby.

  Gabby knew she had no place to run. No place to go. She said she would face her killer with dignity, but finding out the killer was her own little sister was a whole different scenario.

  The vision of the gun—now pointed at her—made Gabby jerk in panic, and in doing so, she felt her bladder empty into her panties, and jeans as death stared her in the face.

  A deep heart-wrenching sob rumbled in Gabby’s chest. She cried not for herself, but for her sister, and her family. She cried for those forever taken by her sister’s hand.

  She glanced down at Dean still unconscious in her arms.

  She then met her sister’s eyes.

  “Why?” Gabby wailed. “Why did you do this?”

  Margo lowered the gun, but Gabby wasn’t relieved.

  Gabby’s emotions bordered on frustration with Margo’s silence. Why wasn’t Margo talking to her? Why?

  “Margo, talk to me!” She pleaded.

  Instead, Margo turned around at a noise that caught her attention.

  Gabby could only wait until someone came to rescue them or worse if Margo changed her mind and decided to shoot Gabby after all.

  It was excruciating. Gabby was in despair. No matter what, their lives would never be the same.

  “Gab… Gabrie…”

  Gabby gasped as Dean awoke again in her arms. She didn’t know how she was holding onto him and kept the pressure on his wound, but she did.

  She chanced it and looked down at Dean.

  “Dean…” she whispered, her heart breaking over what will never be for them.

  “Gabby?”

  Gabby’s head shot up when her sister said her name.

  Margo’s eyes sparkled with tears. Her chest heaved as the sobs wracked her body.

  She lowered the gun in her left hand, dropping it on the floor beside her.

  Was she coming around? Gabby felt the relief course through her. She didn’t know what to do next but had to try something.

  She reached out her free hand for her sister. She called her name and told her everything would be all right. That was all she had for now.