Michael grabbed the M1928A1 Thomson off the table. He loved when he gets a gun in his hands that he just polished, the way it shines in the light... Ah, there is no better feeling in the world. This was his grandpa's gun, he had carried it himself in World War 2. See Michael was throwing in the towel with his life. The kids at school had bullied him for the last time. He had a couple of clips and as soon as the sun comes up he is going to give all the bullies at his middle school a surprise Monday morning. Michael put the gun in a blanket under his bed along with the 5 clips. He then laid down and closed his eyes trying to sleep. A few minutes later his mother came in and kissed him and told him goodnight. She didn't suspect a thing. His alarm was beeping at 5:00 am sharp. He got up did his morning shower and got dressed for school, he looked in the mirror before he went down for breakfast; so this is what a killer looks like he thought then he took off downstairs ready for his last day. His sister Sarah was at the table already, she was having a bowl of frosted flakes. He had a thought, what if he just started with his sister I mean after all she bullied him sometimes to right? He pushed the thought away he wouldn't kill his sister he loved her. She got up from the table to head to school and said, " Michael, remember we are hanging with Jeff and Zach tonight after school." He replied I remember." But she was gone so fast he didn't know if she heard him. The time was drawing near. Michael went upstairs and got his M1928A1 Thompson from under the bed, he grabbed his trench coat from the closet to cover it with, he stuck the 5 clips in his various pockets in the coat. He walked downstairs and noticed it was going to be kind of hard to walk around with the weight of the gun. Michael could feel the cold steel up against his flesh. "No turning back now." He said out loud with a twisted smile on his face. Michael started his long walk to school, he didn't need to leave for another hour but he needed to be early, he was not thinking of anything except his plan. The plan had to be perfect no room for error. He crossed Salem St. Onto Main St. Which is the street the middle school is on. He was positive his great-grandpa had mowed down a ton of Nazis with this gun. Were the school bullies any different? Michael didn't think so, Michael looked at his self as a kind of hero for all future kids. He arrived at the school around 6:00 am. He carefully snuck around to the back and snuck in a window to the basement he unlocked the day before. He made sure his gun was ready to open fire. He went to the door that leads to the main hallway entrance where everyone enters the school. Now all that was left was to sit and wait patiently. He had plenty of time to back out of this madness if he wanted. These bullies have hurt him, they even caused his best friend Adam to commit suicide over it. In his eyes, they all signed their death certificate. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the beginning school bell rang. All the kids started piling in the doors ready for their new school day to start. At that moment Michael burst through the basement door that leads to the entrance, he had the M1928A1 up pointed ready to fire. His finger pressed on the trigger, Tat, Tat, Tat, Tat, the gun started spitting out shells. Bullets were going everywhere, he couldn't control it. He was hitting people that weren't even the bullies. He watched in horror as his ex-girlfriend Sherri from way back in the second grade, was talking to her best friend Haylee when one of the bullets struck her in the chest. Her body hit the ground with a hard thud. Her best friend looked in terror as she began to scream; before a bullet ripped through her throat she fell to the floor choking to death on her blood. The school sheriff that is appointed to the middle school for protection took a bullet right in the stomach, he went to the floor holding it; blood pouring out. This isn't what Michael had planned but he could not get his finger off the trigger. He watched in absolute horror as he shot down students, faculty members, and visitors. He even watched as one of the bullets hit his sister's friend's brother, it tore right through his eyeball splattering blood everywhere. Click, click, click. The gun was empty Michaels sound started to come back, that's when he heard the people crying in pain and screaming, "oh why god? Oh, why?" He was crying, people were ducking behind trash cans and drinking fountains. He ran back into the basement and grabbed a clip out from his pocket. He reloaded the gun. He wondered what his mom would think... Then he put the cold barrel of the M1928A1 Thompson under his chin and pulled the trigger. His last thought was, "please God forgive me"
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