Chapter 2- Rachel Lurie

"A/N: Because I am a horrible horrible person, I placed Rachel in section of the library close enough to LIB 6 so that she can hear everything going on but not see it. Ah well. I may actually do a couple more chapters after this once I get the reveal part done... a bit later, maybe a couple of days where they have a bit of a clearer mind and can you know... think a bit more clearly about this."

May 1st, 2001

10:03 AM

She didn't know what was happening. One moment Rachel was studying for a test in the library and the next thing she knew there was screaming and people running in every direction. Her natural instinct was to also run but she couldn't move. Quickly she abandoned her books and huddled beneath a table behind some bookshelves with a couple of other people, trying to quiet their breathing.

"What… what's happening?" she quietly asked one of the guys next to her, holding her legs tightly to her chest.

The guy looked hesitant to speak but quickly and just as quietly answered, "Two guys… guns…"

Rachel could feel her eyes widen, fingers clenching into her jeans. There were people with guns inside the school at that very moment? Why would they come to their school and attack them? What had any of them ever done wrong?

Her breathing picked up slightly but she bit hard on her lip to keep herself silent, footsteps on the other side of the bookshelves walking past. They seemed slow, unlike a scared student who would probably be running as their lives definitely depended on it. Were they the footsteps of the shooters?

Was she going to die today?

She let out a small breath as they just continued walking past, not thinking—or caring—to check behind the shelves to see if there were people hiding there. Her relief was short lived, however, when she realized people had ran past to hide in the next section of the library; right where the two gunmen were headed.

"Hey everybody!" a voice yelled in the slight distance and she felt something familiar shoot down her spine. She recognized that voice from somewhere.

Her fingers tightened around her legs.

"Hi," another voice—also somewhat familiar, but less so—said a bit quieter. It was horrifying to her that she recognized these voices. Were they students? At first she had thought it would likely be two crazy adults who just decided to shoot up a school, but were these actual students of her school?

Did she recognize because she had classes with them? Did she ever talk to these people? All of these thoughts were racing through Rachel's head and she just didn't know what to think about them, what to do about them.

Could she even do anything about them?

There were screams from a girl and Rachel mentally begged her to be quiet. She understood, but yelling would only anger them probably. She didn't want anyone to get hurt… she could only pray that no one yet had been hurt.

"That's funny," one of the voices said and disgust filled her to the brim. What was funny? The screaming? Who were these horrible people?

Rachel buried her face in her knees, trying to keep her emotions in check, trying to stay calm.

There was ruffling and the sounds of chairs being pushed away. The screaming got louder, blocking out any chance to hear what the gunmen were saying. Not that she really wanted to, but she didn't want to listen to people screaming in fear either; it only enhanced her fear that she may not leave the school alive.

"How are 'ya? Oh cool!" She flinched, covering her ears as there were gunshots from the section just across from her, tears finally starting to roll down her cheeks. A boy came running close only for more gunshots to follow. The boy fell to the ground, blood pouring from his body.

Rachel covered her mouth, turning away.

Laughter. She could hear laughter. These disgusting freaks were laughing about killing somebody. They were enjoying this. How could somebody enjoy this?

Another scream. "Shut up!" a shiver went down her spine. She shook her head quickly. No.

Footsteps came closer, and she couldn't help a glance. She stiffened as she saw two pairs of legs, both wearing black baggy pants. She was slightly thankful that she couldn't see their faces. Rachel feared what she would discover should she see who they were.

"Dude! What are you doing?" screams continued to echo through the library, guns firing off at someone who she thought might be trying to run. She wanted to run. She wanted to get out of there, but she knew should she move, it might be her final moves.

But she also knew that if she stayed, she might die there.

"Hi, how are ya?" That voice said again, and it sounded so strikingly familiar, and she knew why it sounded familiar, but she didn't want to believe it. If that was his voice then the other person… she just couldn't accept that.

"Oh my god!" a girl screamed, crying in fear.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" the male mocked, and she covered a mouth. It was getting harder and harder to deny. She could hear the voice almost so clearly as if it was right next to her, but why?

"Go away!"

"Oh, go away?" the voice laughed loudly and Rachel pushed her hands to her ears, not wanting to hear anymore.

"Leave me alone! No! No please!"

"Look at the blood! Jesus!" Rachel bit her lip, holding in a small sob. No, no, no! She wanted to deny it. She didn't want it to be him! It couldn't be him… how could he do something like this? That wasn't his voice, her friend's voice. It couldn't be him!

The girl continued to scream, yet the teen's voice was just something she couldn't seem to block out. "Is the gun pointed at you?" That same voice asked. His voice.

Calvin's voice.

"No… what're you doing?"

"Shut up," yet another scream. "What? What? ARE YOU DEAD YET?"

Rachel couldn't hold back the next sob and she vaguely felt an arm wrap around her. She kept her crying silent, turning into the person's chest. "W-why…?" she asked, knowing she wouldn't get an answer.

"No, you're still alive, aren't you?" The voice she knew as Calvin's stated, his voice so much crueler than she had ever heard before and something came back to her; something they had joked about so many months before.

"Unless you have some sort of evil locked inside that I've never seen before, it's Andre."

"Oh, I lock it inside. Nobody sees it—I keep it from everyone."

Had Calvin been serious? At the time she had thought they been joking, but had he actually told her that he had… evil locked inside of him? Darkness that nobody but he and Andre knew about? Why hadn't he told her his thoughts? They were friends. She could have helped him.

Unless Calvin hadn't wanted help. How long had her friend been feeling like this? She had known him for around five years. Why had he not trusted her to come to with this?

"Shut up! SHUT UP!" Calvin yelled at the screaming girl and Rachel clenched her eyes shut. She didn't want to hear anymore, she didn't want to see anymore. She wanted out of here.

She could hear quiet words, pleading at Calvin and Andre to stop and Rachel could agree with that sentiment.

"What?" Calvin asked sharply, and she recognized it as disbelief. Rachel couldn't believe the way her friend—was he still her friend? Was she still his friend?—was speaking to these kids. Even still… she would have expected Andre to be acting like… that. Except it was Calvin. Calvin was the one taunting them. He was being the most vocal.

Why? What had happened to her friend for him to turn out this way? Did she ever really know him at all?

"You're still alive. Stop? You want me to stop? You want me to stop right now? SHUT UP! Look at her. Look at her right there." Her? Who was her? One of Calvin's… victims? "SHUT UP!" the sound of rapid fire went off and she let out another small sob, trying to hold herself back.

She was scared, disgusted. How could anyone do something like this? Especially someone so sweet as Calvin? Even Andre… he had always seemed violent and angry, and it was less of a stretch for her to believe it, but he still took it so far as to kill people for no reason? To kill their classmates?

Rachel felt like she had taken a trip to the Twilight Zone. That must have been it because there was no way this could be real life.

Someone ran past and there was quiet discussion between Andre and Cal. Rachel wished she could stop listening to them.

"Cal, look, its Greg! Greg sit down! Relax,"

"Please don't hurt me, sir!"

"Sir!" Andre laughed. "I like that."

"He called you sir." Calvin chuckled and Rachel felt bile rise up in her throat. How could they laugh at someone's fear?

"Please don't shoot me!"

"I can't kill you, you're too pathetic. You're gonna live today man, you're gonna live." Rachel let out a small breath of relief. Thank god for that at least.

Next thing she knew there were shots and the arms tightened around her. He said though… they killed him anyway? Who were these people? Who was this person she used to call her friend?

Why did everything seem to want to move so slowly?

"This gun sucks." Calvin stated. Rachel's fingers clutched at her pants.

"Looks fine to me. Did the job." Did the job? "Hey! Look, it's another guy behind the couch! You're not gonna say anything? Nothing? Not no 'oh please help me!'?" More rapid fire gunshots. She was starting to get used to the sound.

Rachel didn't like that.

"Hey! STOP!"

"FUCK YOU!"

"…'Fuck you'." Both Andre and Calvin started laughing. Rachel couldn't figure out what was so funny. "He came back for his bag! He totally came back for his fucking bag."

"Why would he go back for his bag?"

"Probably had like weed in there or something. Figured if he gets out he's not getting in trouble." She heard footsteps walking away from the library but all Rachel could do was sit there, even as police sirens sounded in the distance.

What was this? A nightmare? It had to be some nightmare that she couldn't get out of.

Rachel felt herself pulled up and nearly dragged towards a secondary exit of the library, but she could barely pay attention to any of that. Her best friend… he was a murderer?

It didn't make sense, but she knew it was the truth. Still though, how could this truth be real? How could it be fact? Her friend—Calvin Gabriel—a murderer? A killer? Those words just didn't fit in with the image of the boy she knew.

At least, she had thought she had known him. Obviously that image had all fallen to pieces. Rachel didn't know what to think anymore.