Final Day

Final Day
Title: Final Day
Status: Complete
Characters: Anon, Fang, Naser, Naomi
Rating: SFW
Classification: One Shot
Author: Anonymous
You walk the cracked sidewalk to school, the added weight of your backpack in the forefront of your mind. Your heart hurts. You don't want it to be this way, but you have no options left. You already stole the gun, there's no way to return it without Dad knowing. You've already shared a bed with Anon. You've already started, there's no turning back now. That bitch won't manipulate you anymore.
You pass by the familiar buildings on the way to school, the ones you’ve seen for years. The ones you’ll never see again. You wish it didn’t have to be this way but there’s no options left. That smug cunt will worm her way into being a part of your family for the rest of your life. She played with your feelings. With Anon’s feelings. She has so respect for boundaries. She doesn’t like the way you are so she tries to change you into something you’re not. Like Mom and Dad did. Like Spears did. Like all the counselors did. You’re a musician. It’s you. You blink back tears. But you aren’t good enough. You had a fleeting moment of happiness at Moe’s. People recognized you for who you really are. Your dreams were finally in reach. And then it was all taken away from you. Life is a fucking joke. You’re sick of it. You have no control over anything, but now you’re taking control. You’re going to make the choices. They’ll all be sorry for the way they treated you. You’re gonna show them. Everyone will cry for you, they’ll regret every bad thing they ever said about you. Vindication. You pull out your phone. Why? You thumb his name. Why? You begin to write. This will be your message. This is your epitaph, your last words. You laugh a bit at the hilarity of it. It’s true, isn’t it? There’s always a note left behind.
You push your way through the halls to the classroom. Your heart is beating loudly. Your face is burning. Maybe you could just leave it in the bag. Don’t touch it. Just let it go. Find another way. No. It won’t work. Images dance in your mind. Moe’s was a fluke. Everyone presses down on you to use the bass. The bass. The bass. You could almost spit. You never wanted to use that damn thing anyways. But they’ll never listen. You’ll be forced to play like shit and everyone will hate you for it. You’ll end up as a junkie somewhere scraping to get by. That’s not the life you want, but you’re inseparable from it. You’d have to give up music otherwise, and that’s not happening. Maybe you can just scare her. Threaten her at gunpoint like they do in the movies. She’ll bob her plastic head around and weep crocodile tears and never bother you again. Face to face. She turns to you, you pull the gun out. Scare her. Your finger brushes the trigger. Look at how scared she is. Did she just piss herself? Look at the high and mighty bitch, reduced to a pathetic incontinent mess. How fucking path-
Your hearing is robbed of you as your hand jerks violently upwards. Naomi crumples to the floor, the area behind her showered in red. Your heart stops for the briefest of seconds as you try to process what just happened. The corner of your eye catches someone, many someones, running around. Your hearing is faded but you can make out screams. Someone pushes into you and the gun jumps again. Your hand feels wet. You push your way out of the classroom. There’s no going back now. You recognize a face in the crowd as one of the jerks who were in the auditorium. One of the weeds. You aim as best you can, your hand shaking. He crashes against the lockers, a red smear following his downward arc. You whirl around. There’s another. Another. Hands grab your wrist, trying to jerk the gun away from you. You turn to look Naser in the eyes.
Eyes that widen in shock and horror as the gun jumps in your hand again.
Time stops for a minute.
He falls to the ground, clutching himself. Red pools around him. Your whole body is shaking now. No. No, no, no. You back up as he slumps against you, dirtying your legs with his blood. You resist the urge to throw up but aren’t strong enough. You run up the stairs, leaving Naser behind. Shakily but hurriedly, you make your way up the stairs. Why? To the one place that was your own. The special place.
You hyperventilate, tearing chunks of feathers off of your wings as you see the crowd and police cars below. There’s even more red-and-blue lights and shrill wailing coming down the road. This can’t be real. Naser… Your eyes well up with tears. Little Naser playing along with Pirate Princess Lucy. The two of you rolling under the shade of a tree, wind blowing through the air. Both of you playing without a care in the world. Everything was so simple then. So much happier. Better. You look down at your blood-stained hands. Your blood-stained pants. You thought you’d feel some sense of victory but all you feel is dread and panic. Where was the vindication? Where was the light, airy, happy feeling? You should’ve felt in control, but you feel like the wheel has been torn from your hands. Bile tickles at your throat. Naser resented you for what happened. He always resented you. Mom and Dad resented you too, how could they not? You’ve been a horrible daughter. Reed and Trish resent you. Anon resents you, he said it himself. You need fixing. You’re broken. You’re worthless, trash, a nothing nobody. You hit your head with your balled up fists, tears coming down as you scream. Naser looks at you in your mind. The look in his eyes. He’s going to die, his killer being the sibling he once idolized. You just kept fucking him over, didn’t you? You’re going to remember the look in his eyes for the rest of your life. You peer over the ledge again at the cars, hearing the shrill sirens. You won’t have to worry about that. ‘The rest of your life’ is being measured in minutes now. You load the gun with the bullet in your back pocket. The thing that’s been burning against your skin this entire morning.
Something touches your shoulder. You whirl around, instinctively firing into the assailant. Anon takes a step back, his pant leg a mess now. Your heart sinks. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He walks jerkily to you, and you take a step back. Again. Again. He crumples to the floor, bone sticking out. His leg looks mutilated. That’s what your head was going to look like just a second ago. You take another step back. He keeps coming. Eventually you feel a difference on the back of your heel and your shudder, realizing you’ve come to the edge of the roof. He stretches his hand out, begging you. Begging you to stay. Come back. It doesn’t have to be like this. You look back over to the crowd. Is Dad there? You finally have a crowd. A crowd for your final concert. This is what you wanted isn’t it? The future flashes through your mind. Yeah right. Come back down and get shot by some angry parent. Get sentenced to death. Rot away in a jail cell, having thrown your chance at life away in anger. Maybe Anon knocked you up. You’d have a child and have them taken away from you. You’d never see them. Behind glass, maybe. Yeah. That’s just what the world needs, you thinky wryly. Another Fang. You want to throw up. Your stomach hurts so bad. You remember all the Sunday school lessons you and Naser sat together through. You remember what happens to the people that do the things you just did. Your heart seizes. But you have no choice.
You’ve already started, there’s no turning back now.
You look back to Anon. The man you love. Your eyes soften and water as you think of the life you could’ve had with him. Would things have turned out better? Maybe you wouldn’t have been a druggie after all. Maybe things would’ve been fine in the end. Well, maybe you should’ve thought it through. You smile at him. You don’t want to smile, but you have to. You have to be strong for him. You wanted to leave him a good last memory of you, that’s why you spent the night with him. Gave him the biggest gift you could ever have hoped to give. It’s not much in comparison, but at least he can see you like this. Realization dawns in his eyes. It drives a dagger in your heart, but your mind is made up. Goodbye Anon. Goodbye Volcano High. You feel gravity pull you downwards, and you’re struck with the fear you’ve made a horrible mistake.
As you plummet to the ground you think of the last words Anon said to you. He loves you. Your heart is seized with panic. Your body is gripped with the primal fear of death. This is it. You're going to die. Fuck. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. You reach out fruitlessly to the ledge you just leapt from. Your legs kick, your wings flap. Your heart is beating a mile a minute. Your stomach is an acidic pit. Even if you survive you'll spend the rest of your life behind bars. Your parents never hated you. But they will now. You killed your brother. Naser's dead and you killed him. That little bundle of joy you played all those games. The tears are falling now. You don't wanna die. You want to go back with Anon. You want to feel his warm embrace, feel the safety he gives you. This is all a dream. This is a really bad dream and you just need to close your eyes and wake up. Mom is going to wake you up. You're going to wake up in your bed. The screaming wind flying past drowns out the sound of the police sirens and crowd below. You wanna go home. You don't wanna die. Anon. Anon, please. Please do something Anon. You don't wanna die. You don't wanna die. You don't wanna die. You don't wan-