Cody had spent every lunch period sitting away from the rest of the kids in the school. His 8th grade class had around 100 people, and had all swarmed him when they heard about why he was in the hospital. Cody hated the attention and ignored them until they all left him alone. Classes meant nothing in his eyes, so he sat in the backs of classes and drew pictures in the notebooks his parents gave to him. When a teacher rearranged seating because of disruptive behavior, Cody ended up close to the teacher’s desk. Seeing that he was not doing any work for her class, she took up his notebook and flipped through it. After class, she pulled him aside to talk to.
short argument and a few insults later, Cody spoke his way into another
after school detention. He already had two from yelling at other kids
in the middle of a class because they wouldn’t stop annoying him about
what it was like getting shot. This time it was the art teacher that was
on detention rotation. Cody brought his notebooks again to doodle in
while he sat in the chilly room that smelled like cheap paint. The art
teacher, Ms. May, was a delicate woman in her forties who seemed like
she drifted on air. The few other kids who also had detention had
finished their short essays and left while Cody kept doodling along. Ms.
May had glided up behind him and had peered over his shoulder to get a
better look. When she spoke in the otherwise quiet room, it startled
“What is that you’re working on?”
This? Um, it’s nothing,” Cody tried to close the book but the teacher’s
nimble hands moved faster than he could. She swept it up and flipped
through while Cody began fostering a strong annoyance at her.
are...quite interesting, Cody,” Ms. May told him. Cody’s glare
cautiously let his face. Her eyes perused the pictures with genuine
curiosity on her face. There were some of who she imagined was his
family, others of tanks and guns and other sorts of weapons, and of
cities that had seemed to be completely wiped out, all in more detail
than she would’ve expected from someone Cody’s age.
“They’re just drawings. They’re not anything special.”
“I would disagree. You certainly seem to have talent.”
May turned a page to reveal a messy picture of a frightened person.
Wide eyes, pencil scribbles everywhere below the person’s face, and the
words ‘PLEASE NO’ written all over the pages in all sizes.
is this? Someone you know?” Ms. May asked, showing him the picture. All
the color slowly left his face as he tried to answer.
“That’s...that’s my best friend.”
“What’s his name?”
“Is he okay?”
Cody’s eyes were locked with the picture’s. He told himself to stop
talking, but he continued on. “We were sleeping in a little empty house
in the middle of nowhere. I woke up and heard him talking. He was on the
phone a room over, in the kitchen. After I walked in and got a glass of
water, I figured out he was talking to them. He was going to turn me
in. My best friend was going to hand me over.”
He could feel his heartbeat pick up. Wringing his hands together, Cody’s voice picked up pace.
had a gun that his dad told to keep with him that we both had left in
the room where we were sleeping. He had a head start back, so I grabbed a
steak knife from the counter.”
hand were shaking. A switch somewhere in the back of his mind turned
off, and Cody lost his ability to control himself. He hugged himself as
he spoke faster and faster.
got to the gun. He shot me in the arm but I didn’t feel it. I remember
dropping the knife then running right into him. We fought and punched
and kicked and yelled and I remember breaking his nose and getting my
head slammed into the wall.”
eyes were locked with the picture but he saw Ty’s scared face instead.
That night replayed around him after he had blocked it out of memory for
then I found the knife again and somehow ended up on top of him with it
and was trying just to hurt him so I could ask why. And he started
begging me and begging me and saying he was sorry but he had to do it.”
this point his voice had turned into a shaky shout and his whole body
was quivering. Tears ran down his face but he still couldn’t stop
begged me not to do it. He yelled at me not to. But he was gonna turn
me in, and I couldn’t let them have it. I tried pushing the knife into
him but he was holding me up. He kept screaming ‘PLEASE CODY NO PLEASE
DON’T I’M SORRY PLEASE DON’T DO IT’!
I COULDN’T STAND HEARING HIM SAY THAT!
‘PLEASE DON’T PLEASE CODY NO PLEASE!’”
was yelling as loud as he possibly could. Somewhere in the world
outside of his memories, Ms. May was trying to calm him down without any
luck. She had closed the notebook and threw it on a desk. Cody could
feel her arm around him but couldn’t process it being there in his mind.
“And then I pushed all my weight behind the knife. And it went down. And he choked and stopped yelling. And he stopped moving.”
was hyperventilating in his seat, slightly rocking back and forth. The
world had come crashing down around him. His left hand frantically
rubbed the spot on his shoulder that had been shot. Feeling sick to his
stomach, Cody spent the next five minutes replaying the night over and
over in his head. He imagined what it was like to have a knife pierce
his chest. He clutched his shirt, and felt the necklace underneath. He
wanted to tear it off and throw it into the largest ocean where he’d
never see it again. He wished he could take a hammer and smash it into
pieces. If only he could find his father and demand to know why he had
to wear it and to keep it safe.
he returned to his surroundings and saw the several other teachers that
had rushed in when they heard the shouting. He sat, blubbering, feeling
like an idiot as they all stared at him. He wanted to go home even more
strongly than before. He gradually started breathing normally, still
slightly shaking. Seeing that Cody had somewhat settled down, they got
him to stand, planning on moving him to the guidance counselor for help.
Ms. May gave him calming words, telling him that he was safe and that
everything was going to be alright.
That’s when the doors exploded in a shockwave of noise and debris.
[Part 9] [Part 11]
New in my wikipedia article history: Hyperventilation, Panic Attack, PTSD
Today features a longer post, since I feel like all of this needed to be altogether. I was really surprised that I found the time to write this week, so I'm glad I got this much done. That's about all I have to say. Yup.