Sidenote: This story is fictional, including the characters and the plotline. However, T Dennis Brutus' Letters to Martha, and the March For Our Lives Movement are not.
"If I'm going to be honest, nothing monumental has happened with gun policy since Parkland, and, even then, nothing much happened," Jacqlyn said as we walked to our World Literature class.
"Well, there was that whole march thing that happened; I think that it was called March For Our Lives? Yeah, that was it." I replied.
"Yeah, that happened, and I love that there was a lot of attention to that subject, but what happened in reference to gun legislation?"
"I don't know, I don't remember".
"Exactly! Also, I heard that we are going to be talking about South Africa in class today, and I'm so excited!" she said.
When we arrived in class, we took our seats quickly, and I whipped out my phone to check out what was happening in Instagram today. As I did this, Jack, a person I talked to sometimes, sat down next to me.
"Hey, Ed! How are you?" Jack asked.
"I'm doing great! I've just been a little busy with homework from our World History class; that essay that we have to write is going to be my literal demise," I replied.
"LOL same, literally I'm not even thinking about it right now," he remarked.
"Hey, since we're both struggling with it, do you want to work together on it today?" he added.
As I was about to say yes, Mr. Walters walked in and started the class.
"Good morning, class! So, today, as some of you may have heard, we are going to be reading some South African Literature. So, we are first going to read an excerpt of poems from Dennis Brutus' Letters to Martha.
As Mr. Waters explained the life of Dennis Brutus, with his life during Apartheid, and the censorship of his poems, many of the class became bored and yawned; I and Jack, however, did not.
When the school day ended, Jack joined me on my walk home, and we simply talked again about our classes.
"Did you understand what Mr. James was talking about today in Algebra 2 today? I could barely stay awake in that class, so I didn't get that much of it," Jack explained.
"To be honest, not really. I was too busy thinking about what I was going to write about how powerful Dennis Brutus' poem about Apartheid was."
"Yeah, it was very deep. Also, I meant to ask if you wanted to brainstorm on that Social Studies essay in English class today, but we got interrupted," Jack said.
"Oh yeah! Sorry, I got slammed with a lot of homework, including figuring out how to do that Algebra 2 homework assigned today," I replied.
"Ok, don't worry about it! I have other stuff to do also," said Jack.
"This is my stop, see you tomorrow!"
After talking to Ed, I got home about 10 minutes later. I then opened up my math textbook and tried to understand the material but could not. This was so frustrating that I took a break from it and decided to take a nap. Since my parents don't come home until 6:00 pm, I had the house to myself for a while.
When I woke up, it was 6:00 pm, and I cursed out loud. I had less time to do homework, and I rushed back to the table and started to work on my homework again.
2 hours later, I heard Mom's "Jack! Dinner is ready!", which, honestly was nice to hear, so I ran down and into the dining room. However, as I began to eat, I couldn't not think about how much work I had that night.
My parents didn't help much with my academics either. "You need to do well in school!" they would always say; they would even compare me to the other kids. "Ed is literally doing better than you! Come on, we taught you better than this!"
After hearing this again at the dinner table, I got up quickly and ran back up to my room; I cried for about 15 minutes. No one understood me! I mean, I am doing my best in school, but I am given so much work, and my parents are constantly comparing me to other students. I would love to be like Ed and have so many more friends, be so smart, and have great parents, but no.
Here I am, literally struggling with Algebra 2.
I thought about going to the school counselor, but she is always busy with other students and wouldn't help me with my problem. How could she help me feel not lonely anymore?
As these thoughts clouded my head more and more, I gained a hatred towards my fellow classmates, especially Ed. If I continued to feel like this for the next couple of days, I might reach my breaking point. We'll see what happens.
I again was walking with my friend Jacqlyn to our World Literature class and was excited again to read more South African Literature. When we arrived in class, I sat down and took out my phone to see what was happening again on Instagram. When I looked to my left, I saw that Jack wasn't there and found it a little weird.
"Eh, he's probably just late," I told myself.
A couple of seconds later, I heard a big bang, and one of my classmates fell to the floor. I turned around quickly and saw Jack in all black holding a gun; we made quick eye contact before everything went black.
"Good evening everyone, we are here today because of the recent shooting at a local high school earlier today. As of right now, the death toll has increased to 4 students, with 8 that have been injured. We have taken custody of the shooter, whose name is Jack White. Our reports say that he is a student who attended the local high school where he shot the students and faculty. At the moment, his motivation for doing this is not known; however, we do know that he obtained an AR-15 through a friend. We are currently questioning the friend now. We will give you more updates as we learn more information"
The Next Day
"Good morning, everyone; in regards to the shooting that happened at a local high school yesterday, we still do not know the motivation for the shooting but now have the numbers of students and faculty killed and injured.
Those who were killed include:
For Further Reading