Rachel's Challenge. by Stupidvolvo-owner, literature
Literature
Rachel's Challenge.
In those last few moments, I prayed to God that I would go to heaven, that someone would find my journals and pass down the kindness and I my dream to have in impact on the world. As the gunman took my life in those few seconds, I was blind. And I was in pain, near my chest. And it was light, like I was two feet away from the sun. I felt horrified that this was the place I never wanted to be. I felt terrible, how could I do this to mom, to dad, to my brother and sister. This was not how I expected death to be.
I opened my eyes lightly, taking in what view of heaven I had with sincereness. "Am I dead." I said lightly, slurring my words. Just
"Do you believe in God?"
The gun was set against my temple. My heart was beating quickly, pounding like a caged bird against my ribcage, and I could feel the perspiration rolling down my back and sticking my hair to my neck. Blood was leaking steadily from the wound in my leg, coating my hands as I tried to apply pressure. I looked up into the dark eyes of the boy asking me the question.
I had been so kind to this boy. I'd smiled at him just yesterday and said good morning. He'd nodded and reciprocated the smile. We were practically friends by Columbine standards. I looked to the boy standing beside him and frowned. I was also kind to him.