Code Red

*Trigger Warning Note*: Story includes a school shooting, Mental Health issues, violence, weapons and suicidal thoughts

Jackson

    "We are gathered here today to honor those who have passed in the FlockMore's High School shooting." I stare, blankly, at the five caskets-trying not to remember what caused those students to end up there. My hands shake and sweat-eager to get away from this funeral. My mind fills up with the sound of a Ruger nine millimeter going off, the yelling of my peers as they try to escape the terror, and sirens of police cars ripping through the atmosphere. It does not stop and the memories keep coming back. The feeling of someone tapping on my shoulder wakes me back to reality. I turn around to see a tall man with gray sideburns standing behind me. "Excuse me, are you Jackson Clark?"

    Swallowing hard before I respond with: "Yes sir, thats me." I grip the belt loop on my white skinny jeans-terrified of what is to come. "Hello, I am Detective Charles McGee, didn't  mean to startle you but I am afraid I am going to have to take you downtown for investigation." My throat becomes dry and I sigh. "Alright, but I need to be home before nine." Detective Charles nods and places his hand on my right shoulder blade-guiding me back to the car. I never thought that I would ever be in a cop car unless I was the one driving it. Being there was something I did not deserve but at the same time I did. Gazing out of the window-watching family members sob and moan over the ones that they lost. It all made me cringe from how much emotion could pour out of one event.

    The car ride to the police station was abnormal. There was upbeat music, laughter, and even-eye contact through the rearview mirror. The average actions that you would never see in movies. The entertainment faded as we pulled into the parking lot and Detective Charles escorted me into the building. Before I could even sit,there was a strange looking woman with a badge on her hip taking my blood. "Wait, what is this for, can you at least start asking me questions first?" The woman squeezed my finger, tightly, drawing a drop of blood from my index. "It's fine, just a couple of tests, nothing harmful." Replied the woman with a lipstick stain across her two front teeth. "Just sit down in this chair and explain to me what went down at your school last Monday." gestured Detective Charles. "Oh, by the way, you can just call me Charles-if thats better for you."

    My hands began to shake again, this time, more vigorous than the last. It seemed tougher to remain eye contact when talking about something so frightening. Charles gathered a few papers and a pen, sitting up straight, and intertwining his fingers as if if was his first day on the job. "Well, it started in World History. Mr. Johnson had an idea for a project about Buddhism. He wanted us to find our own path to enlightenment. But I had no idea what my path was going to be. So, during lunch, instead of sitting with my friends, I got my lunch and walked straight out. I ended up going to this shopping center in Orange County-just to look around and see if I can get any ideas. Unfortunately, I ran into trouble-it, actually, ran into me."

    Charles chuckled and placed his chin in the palm of his hand. "Let me guess, was that your first time skipping? I mean, come on, who skips just to work on something for school?" I roll my eyes and leans, forward, against the desk. "Just let me explain, it gets better-promise."

Taking a breath before I continue. "Anyways, the trouble was from a guy named Jeremiah Parker and the rest of his gang: Kevin Kwok, Jennifer Conway, Kennedy Overholt, and Leonard Holiday. They would always pick on my friends and I but mostly me-not sure why.

    "That day, in particular, the boys decided to stomp on my stomach until I was coughing up blood while the girls held me down by my hands and feet." I raised my shirt so Charles could see all of the bruises that marked my whole torso. Tears started to form. "They didn't  stop until it was time to get back to class and that seemed to take forever. I was in so much pain that I didn't  bother to go back to school. Instead, I walked home. Good thing, my parents where at work or they would be asking too many questions-you know how parents are. As soon as I walked into my house, I sat on the couch and stared at this bronze, plastic, statue of Buddha that my mother brought back from India. I never saw the point in it since my parents never stopped arguing, but at that moment, I realized what my path was going to be."

                           Charles

    Listening to Jackson's story made me feel bad. I wish I was there to help him out when he needed it but it all had to happen for some reason. Before Jackson could finish what he was going to say, Officer Nelson walked up to me with a clipboard. "Sorry for interrupting, may I talk to you for a second?" I excuse myself from jackson and walks towards a corner in the room. "Sure, whats going on?" Officer Nelson hands me a piece of paper and says: "We found out that he has the beginning stages of Skitsophrenia. I don't  even think the, poor, kid knows. But dont say anything, he already has so much on his plate." 

                          Jackson

    Charles started walking back to the desk with this sad look on his face. Even the way he walked sounded depressing. As he sat down, I ruffled my hair and asked is he was ready to hear the rest of the story. Charles nodded slowly. "So, where was I? Oh right, after about 2 hours of staring at the Buddha statue I fell asleep to this weird voice. It said: "Do it.....do it.....make your path.....find your enlightenment." (I am pretty sure it was Buddha talking to me). The expression on Charles's face changed from wanting to laugh to something  unrecognizable. As if he remembered something and decided not to share his true feelings.

    "The next morning, I got up to get ready for school. I remember stuffing something in my pocket but not sure what. Anyways, when I got to school, class had already started. So, I just sat down and watched everyone take notes. After about 10 minutes, we all started hearing gunshots and some of the students started ducking their heads, instantly. I couldn't tell where the shots were coming from. It sounded as if they were actually in the classroom.

    "After that, I remember sneaking out of the class so I could alert the other teachers. I found the nearest classroom and saw that Jeremiah and his friends were all huddled together with the rest of their class. I thought that, maybe, we could all work together and escape even after how bad they treated me. (I didn't want my past to interfere with trying to help out as many people as possible). So, I walked into the classroom and tried to get the students out when I heard our principle over the intercom. After she announced that it was a Code Red, no one seemed to want to leave with me. They all had these terrified looks on their faces." A couple of Officers started gathering near Charles and I with cups of coffee in their hands like children listening to a fairy tale. "Before I could try to convince them that everything would be okay-there was another gunshot."

      By this time, about 20 other officers were gathered, listening carefully. "It was Jeremiah....he was the one who ended up getting shot first. I looked behind me and didn't see anyone with a gun so, for protection, I huddled up with the rest of the students. I remember Jennifer crying over her boyfriend's body and me telling her to be quiet or the killer would hear us. I guess I spoke to soon because right after I said that, she was shot." Most of the, instigating, officers gasped and leaned forward. "A bunch of blood had splattered on my face and I jumped back. Unfortunately, Kevin, Kennedy, and Leonard all scream and just like Jennifer-they were shot too. It was, absolutely, ridiculous. It was like the killer was invisible or something because you could never see who was the one holding the gun."

    "What happened after that?" shouted an Officer from the back of the group. "The rest was vague. I just remember running home, locking myself in my room, and turning on the news. They said that the killer left behind a, red, high top with the initials J.C. carved into the sole but I don't know what that was all about. Anyways, I couldn't tell you who the killer was if that was what you were looking to hear come out of my mouth." Charles nodded his head and stud up, shooing away the other Officers so he could drive me home.

    As we pulled up to my house, Charles looked back at me and said: "I appreciate your help, Jackson, and I'm sorry about what happened." I got out of the car and leaned in the passenger seat window. "Its fine, everything happens for a reason, good night." Charles smiled and sped off as I walked up the porch steps and into my house. Walking past the plastic Buddha and rubbing its belly before I headed towards my room. I could instantly hear my parents arguing again but then a familiar voice flooded my mind: "You did it, jack! You found your path, congrats!" I shook my head and walked past my parents bedroom. My mom stepped out, wiping her face with tears. "Hey, sorry you had to come home to that but I wanted to know, did you find your other shoe?" I kept walking as I answered "Not yet, but it's no big deal, they weren't my favorite anyways."

    My mother turned to go back in the bedroom and the arguing, immediately, began once more. I walked to my room and opened the closet. Staring down at my shoes to find the one I was looking for. Picking up a single, red, high top that was covered in blood and the initials J.C. Carved into them. "Looks like I won't be needing this anymore." Tossing it into the trash and smiling as I realized that I had accomplished my path to enlightenment.