The boy stands stiffly. His shoulders shake as he tries to suppress the tears trickling down his cheeks.
Right before your eyes, a ripple distorts the air next the boy. His body falls still, his sobs are silenced, as he cocks his head in the direction of the disturbance.
His hands clench. He nods slowly at the ripple. A quake runs through the distortion, and something comes through.
An AK-47 drops down next to the boy's feet. In that moment, a slender hand can be seen sticking through as well. It looks like the hand of an average high school girl.
That is, except for the color.
The skin was pitch black.
"--at 2:00 PM today--"
A TV display at the neighborhood's convenience store is currently tuned to the news channel.
"--a freshman at the local highschool shot and killed 50 of his fellow students. Several faculty members were caught in the crossfire. Unharmed students were allowed home as soon as lockdown ceased, and injured individuals were rushed to the hospital."
The woman reporting the news maintained her neutral expression as she continued.
"According to the boy's homeroom teacher, as soon as the boy saw the police officers moving towards him..."
The screen flickers for a moment.
"...he shot himself with his gun. His guardians have been notified of his death and are planning to hold a funeral next Sunday. ------ ----- was a troubled youth, spiralling into a state of depression after the death of his father--"
The news report continues with a biography of the school shooter.
A girl can be seen watching the report through the store's window. At the angle you are at now, you can only see her back.
As the sun drifts below the horizon, a light rain begins to fall. Day transitions to twilight, as the girl continues to watch. Her form is illuminated by the multitude of screens, all displaying the same news channel. A fine dusting of rain droplets settles on the girl's wavy, black hair as she stands almost completely still.
From what you can see of the girl, you determine her a high school student from her stature and manner of dress. She has a bookbag slung over one shoulder, and wears a short-sleeved gray T-shirt paired with a thin black miniskirt.
After a while, the girl stiffens, and continues onto the sidewalk to the right of the store. Her hair censors most of her face as she turns around. However, for a split second, her eyes glinted by the light of the store.
Worried, red eyes peer forward as the girl marches home.
She soon disappears from view.
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A secret place for me and you
Where everyday was fun and new
A simple time played in our heads
We’ll tell this story again
Refreshing, isn’t it?
Let’s breathe the air, try not to cry
It’s time to say our goodbyes