[center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/5f/79/f9/5f79f90a11851e5d09d87e46be9e61f0.jpg[/img]

[img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/210302/c78421be15272e8807868c562ee16b97.png[/img]

[hr][hr]

[i]The hallway had fallen dead silent save for the squeaking of feet across the bloodied floor. By this point, [url=https://www.girlfriend.com.au/media/15000/1000-riverdale-sweet-pea.jpg]Charlie[/url] had lost count of the amount of times he had pulled the trigger. He stopped counting the bodies after Principal Payne hit the floor in front of English class. With the school in lockdown, it made his movements that much easier since no one was getting out and no one was getting in. The fact that anyone would be surprised by this was laughable to Charlie. How could it not have ended this way? He was born to do this.

The Glock in his left hand was warm from its recent firing but it still held plenty of ammunition. All the time he had spent behind his mother’s house, firing at cans and makeshift targets had left him with the aim he needed to not waste the ammo had brought with him.

His mind drifted as he thought back towards his native ancestors and it made his blood burn hot. His people had always had their lives taken from them and he was no different. He was marked from birth to change the status quo. His entrance into the cafeteria at the start of all this; screaming his tribes cry as he popped Boaz in the head. The blood splatter landing on his face felt just as good as the soft first breath of spring rain. 

The walls were covered by this point, the Celtic jerseys hanging there, the picture of the lost [url=https://assets.ynap-content.com/story-head-content-1-1591867030297.jpeg]Allison Davies[/url] that hung next to the trophy case was as well. Her beautiful visage was a crimson mass because Charlie had willed it. He was sick of starting at her, sick of those eyes watching every move he made. The guilt had finally been replaced by pure rage. 

A slamming door in the gym broke him free from his day dream and a smile crept upon Charlie’s lips. He tore the photo of Ally off the wall and then it against the nearby lockers. They didn’t really know her. It was all a lie, everything was a lie. Using his bloodstained hand he brushed back his dark hair before he cocked his gun and looked towards the home of those damned jocks. 

[color=D3D3D3]“The pansy at my feet doth the same tale repeat. Whither is fled the visionary gleam? Where is it now, the glory and the dream?”[/color][/i]
[hr]

It hadn’t been the first and it wouldn’t be the last time that [url=https://data.whicdn.com/images/315865139/original.gif]Roddy[/url] dreamt himself into the shoes of Charlie Decker. In a roundabout way, he didn’t hate the boy that put a bullet in his back and killed several of his friends. Instead there was a deep regret that he could not have done more. Rod had been bullied for years at that school but he had friends, the same couldn’t be said of Decker. 

The dreams started with the first letter he received six months ago and they come whenever he gets any sleep, the joys of insomnia. Someone had Charlie’s journals, the ones he was always writing in, the ones that got read out to class by those that wanted to cause harm, the ones the police couldn’t find after the shooting. Someone was making copies of pages and sending them out to everyone, sending them to colleges, to jobs, someone didn’t want the world to forget Charlie Decker.

Pulling himself slowly out of bed, Rod’s back was burning but he didn’t have the time to dawdle. He was meeting Lanie and Rylie today and a few aching bones weren’t about to stop him from seeing his baby girl. He reached across to the bedside table to imbibe in the copious amounts of painkillers, muscle relaxers and other chalky tasting crap that the doctors had given him. He washed down the mixture with a glass of water before rolling out of the bed and towards the closet. He had to get his daily exercise and coffee from Beau’s Place.

Popping on his work out gear and Beats, Roddy set off on his run through the small community. The sun was on the rise and you could smell the summer in the air as the teenagers loaded up their cars for party filled weekends or even weeks. It was somewhat unbelievable to Rod what a difference a few years made between the drama he and his peers went through and the current crop of Edenridge kids and how easy it seemed for them.

A lot of the family run businesses were closing and there was a great sadness to that. For so long, the Edenridge neighbourhood stood self succulent away from its big brother Boston, yet by coincidence or consequence the rampage of Charlie Decker seems to not only just kill kids but seemed to kill the entire town. Maybe because he sniffed out the future, the place just died as it was.

Arriving at the homely looking Beau’s place, dripping in sweat, Rod ran in to be greeted by the warm smile of his former English teacher.

[color=wheat]“Well, well; Roddy Callahan. You about thirty seconds later than yesterday. Your getting slow boy”[/color] The jolly man pressed a few buttons on his computer before setting off his machine. [color=wheat]”Chai latte and a biscotti?”[/color]

[color=D2D518]”My man”[/color] Roddy tapped his smartwatch on the card reader before moving to the end of the counter.

As he frothed the milk, Beau looked towards his former charge with a unique look.[color=wheat]”You opened the mail yet today Rod?”[/color] The boy shook his head. [color=wheat]”There's another one of his journal entries. Whoever’s doing this, they added a caveat, something is happening at the school tonight. I don’t know what, I don’t wanna know. Do me a favour, don’t go. I chased you into that place once before, I don’t wanna do it again”[/color]

Deep breaths. Just another day.[/center]