Grey Matter

Screaming, crying, crashing, crunching.

Lit a match to watch it burn.

I find all my peers and family and teachers, role models and enemies lined up against a wall.

I look at them blankly, not knowing why they are there, how they got there or what's about to come.

I stare some more; as if staring at them will bring any real answers.I stare some more

There at that moment I feel the breath of someone behind me. I panic.

A ball of anxiety rides through my stomach up to my heart and it is at this point where I feel most human.

The person behind me says nothing. I'm terrified, so much so that I can't--I won't turn around.

I just keep staring into the eyes of my mother; she stares back soulless and careless.

I swallow the lump and take step forward. I realize now where I am; where we are.

I lean over to pick up the gun. I cock it.

I start to aim at the line of people that create my perception of what is reality and what is human.

I aim and I point at each one, giving each person the same amount of barrel time and eye contact.

I still feel the breathe of the person behind me as if his breathe is making me work the gun.

I start to wonder if the thing behind me is even human.

I point the gun at my mother and shoot.

I point the gun at my father and shoot.

I point the gun at my brothers and sisters,friends and acquaintances and I shoot.

My enemies left standing.

I drop to my knees and I start to cry and cry and cry and cry. Weeping.

A hand drops onto my shoulders from behind. It is at this point where I feel most human.