They gape at me in shock. I stand stiller than stone. You can hear the lights buzz. No one breaths. The shot echoes out the classroom. Down the halls. out the doors to the busses. I can hear my heart pounding pumping blood out into each and every limb fueling life. So different from her. Blood carrying oxygen to the cells, not blood pumping onto the tiles. Air in the lungs not leaving. Hands holding the gun not hands holding death’s icy grip. I can still feel it the echo of the anger, the shattered glass she called her mind. The gun clatters on the floor. I stumble forward. I have to know. I have to see her face. Whose life did I end, who was she? My knees slid on blood. My hand shakes. I need to know. The mask moves so easily. The teacher stands. She needs to know. They need to know. I look down. I gasp. They gasp. It’s me. She looks at me. “You will never escape me, I am you. You can treat the symptoms but you can’t cure the virus.” Her no my eyes glazed over. Suddenly she is gone. A faceless person is there. People are screaming. The gun is so warm. I am you. . You can treat the symptoms but you can’t cure the virus.
I think this has something to do with me being terrified of what might happen if I lose my temper. I am so scared of hurting people, but I never stop hurting myself. I stop doing so much because I am so scared of hurting someone else. It’s paralyzing…..
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