{I Kill People I Like}
Tate was ready. Today, he'd shine. It was his turn to get attention and he wasn't going to let the opportunity go to waste. His bed was adorn with two riffles, a pistol, and countless pipe bombs. He thought of the bombs as his own fireworks -- he pictured them exploding behind him as he walked down the retched corridors of Westfield High.
Everything was in place. The weapons, ammo, the time, the traps he'd already set up in various rooms the day before. It was his moment to be known as someone -- whether it was cruel or not. He was going to get the attention he deserved, and he wouldn't let anyone stop him -- not even himself.
He loaded up his car, and climbed into the driver seat. Before reving the engine and making his way to the school, he sat for a minute, looking at all of the weapons in the backseat through the rear-view mirror. A wild, devilish smirk danced across his thin lips. He knew that whoever stood in his path today would surely die. He'd make sure of it.
~~~
So there he was. Walking down the crowded halls, carrying a large -- cylinder shaped duffle-bag. Harvested inside of the dark material were his guns, ammo, and two knives in case he'd need them. Stopping by an empty class room, his eyes averted to the clock on the wall. Ten till' the halls, cafeteria, and school grounds would be flooded with the filth he called "class mates". Tate felt his muscles aching with anticipation, heart beating against his fragile rib-cage.
Turning to walk out of the room he headed to his locker and leaned against it before it was show time. He was about to make one hell of a mess, and he knew he'd never regret it. He continued to avert his eyes to any clock visible, checking the time when he could. It was almost go time, and he could hardly wait.
