H. A. Carter Read Online Free Page B

for what I have done. I know
this.
    No, I won't do it this time! I'll change it.
I'll save them! There must be a way to redo it all!
    But, I can't.
    They are already dead, and there's no
changing that. No going back. No time machines Here.
    Why can't I get a second chance?
    Why?
    Because there are no second chances,
Here.
    My hatred and rage begin to bubble deep in my
soul. It rises like the flames of an unstoppable fire, waiting to
erupt at just the right moment.
     
    *
     
    Gun shots and screams fill the heavy air
around me, encasing my senses. The thick smell of gun smoke invades
my nostrils, nearly choking me. My heart is pounding hard, almost
jumping straight from my chest. Boom-boom! Boom-boom! Tingles of
release cover my body at that first shot, like a
    newborn taking it's first breath of life. I
hear the gunfire again and again, and me screaming and cackling
like the mad hatter at a blood filled tea party.
    One shot. Bang!
    Two. Bang! Bang!
    And another. Bang!
    Bang!
    Ring around the rosy, pockets full of
posies.
    Ashes. Ashes.
    They all fall down, and there is just one
bullet left to fire.
    BANG!

 
13
     
    “SHUT UP!” I shout at them, “Shut up you
bastards! Get out of my head!”
    Just shut up, I begin to sob. I cry more and
more each time I relive that day. More now, not just because I want
all of this to end, but because I'm tired of remembering.
    I have so many memories I wish I was able to
forget. Erase them as if they never existed. Where's the “delete”
button for that?
    High school memories would most likely be at
the top of the list. They were pretty much all bad in the
beginning. Even the ones I first considered to be good, turned out
to be some of the worst. Especially those memories that involved
John. My playground savior from third grade and once lifelong
friend. Once we reached high school, he turned on me. As a rule,
friends often change and rearrange through life. This fact in
retrospect I was okay with. What I had a hard time coping with was
who he became friends with. Of course, who should he turn to? None
other than the golden boy himself, JJ. That asshole methodically
stole everything that I ever had good in my life. Everything. He
stole my self-esteem, my confidence, my best friend! My soul...
    God, I hate that guy.
    It all started freshman year with John.
    That's when the segregation of life and
reality really begins to play out. When we are young and naive we
all dream of high school as this vast Utopia where we are all
friends and walk around hand in hand. In actuality, high schoolers
are like packs of wild animals when it comes to friendship. If you
stray away from the pack, for any reason at all, you will be cast
out and most likely eaten alive. During this time of life, no one
strays outside of their circle for fear of being thrown to the
wolves. I had always thought of John and I to have our own little
circle, but come to find out, I was really alone.
    I had no circle, no pack, and I had no
friend. I was nothing more than a lame runt left to fend for
myself. Nothing but open prey.

 
14
     
    The first couple weeks of freshman year
passed quickly. I hadn't been able to talk to John at all since we
started. He had gone on vacation with his family the week before
school, and I didn't see him when he got back. No one was answering
the phone at his dad's, and calling his mom is out of the question.
I just figured he was busy with new classes and homework. Plus, he
started football this year and had almost non-stop practice. I,
myself, had tons of homework. It seemed as though every teacher
assumed that their class was the only one you were attending, and
therefore, they could pile up as much shit for you to do as
possible. It was all a little overwhelming, even for me. My mother
tried her best to fill the gaps that John was leaving in order to
comfort me, but now that she started working over-time at Lou
Ann's, I didn't get to see her much either.
    I was finally caught up with my