Things on My Mind

"You seem a little distracted, Jack," I said, sitting down across from the teen.

"I've got some things on my mind, ya know?" he mumbled through the greasy strands of hair that hadn't been washed or cut in months. He jiggled his leg, keeping his face turned towards the left.

I set my tape recorder down between us and turned it on. "Ryan Collins interview with Jack Kelly, Thursday, May fifteenth, two thousand eight. You said you had things on your mind. What kind of things?"

Jack bit at his fingernails as his leg shook furiously. "None of your business."

"Jack, look at me, please." His bloodshot eyes were tormented; they reminded me of the eyes of the wounded soldiers I had talked to before. They and Jack had both been to hell and back, whether in the Middle East or a local high school. "I'm here to help you. You have to trust me, okay? Why don't you tell me more about the morning before you-"

"It's Kara," he interrupted, with an irritated look. "I've been thinking about Kara." I flipped through my mental notes and remembered that Kara was the girl Jack had been close friends with and also one of the students who had died that day.

"She wasn't supposed to be there," he continued. "I told her to stay home, pretend to be sick." He made a quiet, wounded sound in his throat. "She was the first person I saw in the hall. I think she screamed when she saw the gun. I yelled at her to get out of there. I said Jay-Jay and his gang were gonna pay for treating me like crap." His voice was growing louder, and his fidgeting had stopped. His chest heaved with quick breaths as adrenaline started to fill his veins. "They were going to see that I'm stronger than they are and beg for my forgiveness as they lay dying on the floor in front of me."

"What happened then?" I asked softly.

"I shot them!" he screamed, springing out of his chair and raising his fists to the cell ceiling. "I held the gun up to their faces and stole their lives! They were scared and crying, but I just laughed because I had the power! I was in control, and they couldn't do anything about it!"

"What about Kara?"

Jack lowered his hands slowly, breathing heavily. His face twitched as he struggled to keep tears at bay. "She tried to take the gun out of my hands," he started slowly. "I struggled with her, and a shot went off."

Jack sank down to the floor. He drew his knees up to his chest, locking his arms around them and starting to rock. "She fell down, and there was blood...on her-"

Suddenly, he raised his head and screamed. His eyes were wide with terror, and he started to babble at the space above my head. "I'm sorry, Kara, I'm sorry! Not you! It wasn't supposed to be you!"

I quickly knelt beside him and tried to calm him down. The noise alerted some guards, who roughly pushed me out of the cell. "That's enough for today, Mr. Collins."

"But wait!" I protested. The slamming of the heavy, iron door echoed with Jack's last words.

"No, Kara, it wasn't supposed to be you!"

Bethany Bachman writes in Philadelphia and thinks bullies are worse people than the victims who go on shooting rampages.

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