The 8th

by Matt Shaw

  * * * * *

  “What are you doing?” asked Mrs Price. I was just standing there, in front of the class. My mind was elsewhere. Drifted off for a minute. Disappointed there isn’t enough time to deal with them all individually. “We need to get Ben some help.”

  “He’s dead,” I said. I didn’t even look at him. I could tell he was dead. His breathing was noisy earlier. Now I can’t hear it at all.

  “You’re going to prison...” said Mrs Price, “For a very long time.”

  “No, I’m not.” I smiled at her and glanced at the gun.

  “You killed someone!” she continued.

  “So did Piers!” I yelled. “Chloe...” I pointed to where she was still weeping. “Murderer! Lynn...” I pointed to a girl sat towards the back near to where Piers was sitting, “Murderer! Robert...” one of Piers’ friends, “...Murderer...John...” another lad close to Piers, “even Ben and Daniel...They’re all murderers...The only difference is they didn’t pull a trigger.”

  * * * * *

  Lessons are about to start. The class is quieter than usual. David is doing his usual trick of leaving it until the last possible minute to come to class. There are whisperings from the back row. I can’t quite make them out. Something about David. I wonder, after last night, whether he’s coming back to class or whether his mum and dad are finally pulling him out of here and sending him somewhere else?

  I turned round to look at the back of the class. Piers and his friends are missing again. Same old story with them. They fight with someone and then disappear for a few days. A few days later they re-emerge from whatever hole they crawled into, as though nothing has happened. Pieces of shit. With the mood I’m in, it’s probably a good thing they’re missing. For what they did last night, I don’t think I could keep my calm. It wouldn’t be so bad if it were just Piers by himself but...Him and all of his gang? I would have just ended the same way as David did last night.

  My attention turned to the back of the class, again, when the door opened. I half expected it to be David but it wasn’t. Mrs Price walked in; a solemn expression on her face. Well, this is new.

  The class watched, in silence, as she put her bag by her desk. She looked as though she was taking a couple of minutes to collect her thoughts.

  “We’ve just heard,” she said after a few more minutes, “that last night David took his own life...”

  * * * * *

  “No one in this class is innocent!” I shouted. “No one!” I waved the gun around at each of the pupils. They tried their best to duck out of the way of the barrel. “Not you! Not you! Not you! No one! You all need to learn...You need to be taught a lesson. The only innocent ones are standing here...” I turned to see David, Lindsey, Elizabeth, Marcus, Samantha, Kate and Helen.

  “There’s no one there,” said Mrs Price.

  “Just because you don’t see them, it doesn’t mean they aren’t there but they’re always here. Always walking the corridors where they were tormented for so long...What I’m doing...What I’m here for today. Someone should have done this a long time ago...”

  “What you’re doing...This doesn’t make anything right. This doesn’t change anything...”

  “It will! Don’t you see. People will hear of this. This story will spread across the world...Newspapers, television programmes...A warning to others who may be tormenting colleagues close to them...”

  “It won’t. You’ll just go down in history as another psychopath killing innocent people in their school...”

  “Just as David will be another suicide statistic?”

  * * * * *

  Mrs Price’s short words were all that was mentioned of David in the school - at least in front of the pupils. There were no speeches, in the morning assembly, offering people in the same position as David any help. There was no advice for handling bullies. There was nothing. Even the local newspaper hardly went into any details about it when it landed on the doorstep three days after the event.

  My mum felt bad for me, as I had lost a friend, but then went onto say she could see it coming. She could see it in his eyes that he was a troubled young boy; a damaged soul. Teachers didn’t have much to say either. Apparently David had a history of depression which he brought to the school with him - documented in his file from his previous school. I told them about the bullying but it was, more or less, brushed under the carpet. Piers and his friends, of course, denied everything. What made it worse, with regards to Piers and his buddies, was that every time I looked at them - they were laughing. I’m not sure what about but...Did none of them feel any remorse? Did they honestly believe they weren’t to blame for what happened to David?

  “What are you doing in here?” mum asked. I was sitting in dad’s office. An office which was normally out of bounds due to the sensitive documents he sometimes had with him. I could never help but wonder why, if they were so sensitive, he brought them home and, more importantly, what difference it made whether we were allowed in the study or not...It wasn’t as though he left them on his desk. They were all locked away in his large wall safe. Speaking of which...I was frantically trying to guess the combination. “I asked you a question.” The locking mechanism of the safe clicked open. Success. Having tried his date of birth, mum’s date of birth, my date of birth...I was surprised when it clicked open on their wedding anniversary. In a world this shitty it was nice to see he still valued his marriage - more than can be said for some couples. Unless, of course, he just doesn’t know how to change the combination code now that it is set. “Get away from there...Your father will kill you.”

  I doubt it. He’s never here.

  I pulled the door open. There it is. Just as I had hoped. I reached in and took hold of his handgun. His favourite piece to use whenever he is training new cadets. At least, that’s what he tells me it’s for. For all I know he could have purchased it from the black market just as a source of protection for the house. I wonder if mum knew it was here? I only knew from when I had seen it over his shoulder.

  “Put that down!” mum said sternly as I pulled the gun from the safe.

  “I can’t. I need it.”

  “Need it? For what?”

  I just looked at her. She knew what it was for. Did I really have to spell it out? I need it to teach them a lesson. All of them. Just as David wanted to do. I’m doing it for David...

  “You’re not leaving the house with it,” mum said. She blocked the doorway. I can only hope she isn’t going to test me. “You’re not taking that to school,” she continued - proof that she knew exactly what I wanted it for.

  “Yes, I am. I need to show them they can’t push people around anymore. I need to show them there are consequences to their actions. They need to know I’m not afraid. They need to know...”

  “You’re not afraid? Then you don’t need to take a gun to school...”

  “I need to show them!” I shouted. I could feel my eyes start to well up. “Did you know David wasn’t the first to kill himself at my school? There were others too...Others who were bullied like David. The first I have heard of this was yesterday...In the cafeteria...People talking about it...Remembering the others who had taken their lives as well because they were bullied...”

  “So you go and hurt the one who bullied your friend?” said mum. “There will just be another bully further down the line. No matter what is said and done, there will always be someone to take their place.”

  “There doesn’t have to be. I can teach them. I can show them the error of their ways. I can show them. They won’t hurt anyone again. They won’t. And when news gets out about what I’ve done...When the news gets out - no one will want to hurt anyone again...”

  “You’re being silly,” said mum, “the world doesn’t work like that.”

  “It can. No one has tried it yet.”

  “I’m sorry about your friend. You know I am. If you want to look at changing schools, I’ll talk with your father when he calls...”

  “What’s the poin
t? Every school is the same! I need to do this. Not just for me but people like David....”

  “But...”

  “Lindsey, Elizabeth, Marcus, Samantha, Kate...Helen...Now David. I found the newspaper reports on them on the school computer. They all killed themselves using various methods. All dead because of bullies...”

  “You don’t know that, it could have been because...”

  “Of course it was to do with the bullies. There may have been something else in their life to upset them too but you know it would have been the likes of Piers who had tipped them over the edge. Every time I shut my eyes I see them standing there. Every time...”

  * * * * *

  I looked at the David and the others. Time was running out. Too much taken up with arguing with Mrs Price about what I was doing. How wrong I was. I’m not a psychopath. I’m not. I’m the innocent one. David and the other six students...We are the innocent ones...Backed into corners with no visible exit other than what I’m doing here or suicide. I need to do this. Just skip across to Piers. He is the main culprit, in my eyes. Teach him a lesson so harsh the others will learn from it.

  This is it.

  This is what I’ve been gearing towards.

  11.

  “Enough is enough,” barked Mrs Price, “give me the gun!”

  Who does she think she is giving orders like that? She forgets, this is my class. I am the one in charge. She is right, though, enough is enough. I’ve already passed the point of no return. Now it’s time to end it.

  “Give me the gun!” she screamed.

  * * * * *

  I’d never heard my mum shout like that and it took me back a bit.

  “Give me the gun!” she screamed again. I went to push past her but she grabbed for the gun. She was screaming for me to hand it over but I wouldn’t. For a split second we both danced around the room, fighting over the gun, when suddenly a shot rang through the house - echoing in the small room we were in.

  * * * * *

  Mrs Price looked startled as I looked at her down the barrel of the smoking gun. Blood immediately poured from the hole in her chest. She dropped to her knees without another word and then face-planted onto the hard floor. The rest of the class screamed and immediately jumped up from their desks. Someone would have heard that. Someone would be coming now.

  * * * * *

  It doesn’t matter if the sound of the gunshot does attract people. I won’t be here. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t mean for the gun to go off but I can’t stay here regretting what’s happened. As I looked down at mum, who was lying face down in a pooling puddle of blood, I knew that none of this was my fault. I feel numb about what I’ve done. It’s not my fault. None of it. This is their fault. The bullies. Piers. This is his fault. Lessons start in less than an hour. I need to be ready. I only hope I can get this finished before they come for me.

  * * * * *

  I didn’t care that the class was in a panic. I didn’t care that some of them had dared to make a rush for the door. They could go. It didn’t matter anymore. All that matters is him...Piers. He is still in the back row of the class. I’m not sure whether he is still too stunned to make a run for it or too stupid. Either way I’m grateful. I didn’t want to have to chase him through the school.

  I stormed over to where Piers was sitting, smoking gun still in my hand, and grabbed him by his hair. He let out a funny little wail as I pulled him to his feet and marched him to the front of the classroom. By the time we get there, most of the class is empty. It’s just me...Ben, Mrs Price and Piers. Even Daniel managed to get out of the room - no doubt racing off home to brush his teeth and rinse out the flavour of cock with extra strong mouthwash. Fucking faggot.

  “You did all this!” I screamed at Piers. “You!”

  It didn’t matter about being quiet now. I knew they were coming for me. Someone would have called the police by now...Someone would have run to the other teachers. Time is against me.

  “Fuck you!” hissed Piers. I smashed him in the face with the butt of the gun and he let out of a scream. His front two teeth cracked on impact with the hard metal. That’s going to hurt in the morning.

  “No! Fuck you! You did all this.” I raised the butt of the gun back into the air and dropped it down onto his face once more. A loud crack. Was that his nose? He looked dazed. “Don’t you fucking pass out...”

  “Stop! What are you doing?” came a voice from the doorway.

  I looked up to see the Head Teacher standing there with a look of horror on his face. I pointed the gun directly at him. He put his hands out in front of him as though they’d stop a bullet from flying towards him.

  “Tell me about David,” I shouted.

  “What?”

  “Tell me about David...What sort of person was he?”

  There was a slight pause.

  “He was a confused la....” he started.

  I pulled the trigger and he dropped dead. David wasn’t confused. David was a victim. We’re all victims. “Because of people like you,” I said to Piers - the final string of my thoughts coming out vocally.

  “Please...Don’t kill me...” he said. Have the beatings finally broken him down? Or was it the sight of the Head Teacher and Mrs Price getting a bullet? This ‘hard man’ who gives off an image of someone who won’t be controlled finally broken? I won’t pretend not to be a little disappointed. I was looking forward to hitting him some more but, truth be told, it’s probably for the best. I’m pretty sure I can already hear the sirens in the distance.

  “I’m not going to kill you,” I said to Piers. “I want you to live with this. I want you to live with the knowledge you killed Mrs Price. You killed the Head. You killed my mum, you son of a bitch, and David. Even Ben’s death is because of you. Everything that happened...Your fault. Say it...”

  “It’s my fault,” he spluttered through broken teeth and bloody gums.

  “Louder!” I ordered.

  “It’s my fault,” he repeated.

  “Shout it!”

  “It’s my fault!” he shouted at the top of his voice.

  “Again!”

  “IT’S MY FAULT!”

  The sirens are outside now. They’re here. That’s it. Game over.

  “Open your fucking mouth,” I hissed. Piers was crying as he opened his mouth. “Wider!” I told him. Broken boy did as was instructed.

  Doors are banging against walls in the corridors beyond the classroom. This is it. The lesson has come to an end. Seconds later there were officers standing in the doorway with guns pointed at me. I’m sure there are more, waiting for their turn to take a pop, in the corridor.

  “DROP THE FUCKING GUN!” one of them shouted.

  I put my head against Piers face so that my ear was level with his mouth. I swear, despite the shouting police, I could hear his fear coming from his body. And smell it. Broken boy wet himself? I smile spread across my face as I placed the gun against my other ear.

  I hope the knowledge he is responsible for all these deaths...I hope it haunts Piers for as long as he lives. If he forgets, I hope the taste of my brains, in his mouth, serves as a distasteful reminder. As I ready myself to squeeze the trigger, I only hope the bullet doesn’t go through my head, and his too. I can’t promise it won’t.

  If it does. It’s not the end of the world. Just his. I closed my eyes and readied myself. This is it. I wonder if it will hurt.

  “I love you.”

  A friendly voice, louder in my head than the shouting police officers and sirens...I opened my eyes. David was standing slightly in front of me.

  “I love you,” he said again, “always have.”

  I smiled, “I love you too.” All this time and I’ve only just come to realise I was living a lie. No previous girlfriend because, subconsciously, I didn’t want it? I never realised. It doesn’t matter now. “I love you too,” I repeated. I couldn’t help but laugh. All this time I was trying to teach everyone else a lesson. Trying to teach them something
, for their lives, and it was me who ended up learning something.

  The school, town even, were quick to forget the previous seven who had killed themselves. I bet they aren’t as quick to forget the eighth.

  I ignored the shouting, from the doorway, and squeezed the trigger.

  ~ FIN