All Chapters of An Eye for a Bullet: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Walking into the Politics classroom, I look around to see if Dane is here. He isn't yet. But he should be soon.Heading over to the table with Ves, Pike, and Mia already there, I set my bag down."Where is he?" I ask aloud."Not here," says Jack smartly as he takes his seat. I give him a fake glare."I figured."He doesn't show up. Until the bell rings. Then he stalks in. He gives one glance but looks away as if I'm nothing to him. He sits down at a table but doesn't even try to acknowledge how I'm literally staring only at him."He's pissed," remarks Ves.I know dammit! Why won't he look at me? He's always staring at me. But now he decides to not do what he does all the time? Great. Just great.The class is about political statements, and what and how it should be delivered. At one point, we all stand up to find random people to practice with. I take it as my cue to get to Dane.Walking over to him, I raize my hand to tap his shoulder, when he stands up and walks over to Mia."Wanna

The address turns out to lead to a church. An old one too, by the looks of the faded white marble and the cracks crisscrossing the stone surface. The warm spring air blows some of my hair around. I really need to cut it. It's gotten longer since I got here.Funny, really. None of us are religious. Back in the program, they did make us attend sermons and communion in the chapel, but I never took it seriously. My parents were apparently Jewish, but I might as well be atheist. I only believe in myself.Stepping out of the car, we all do a quick survey of the parking lot. There are three other cars here, but nobody is in them. And the trees that surround the edge of the premises seem empty."Let's go," I say.We make our way over to the church. I notice off to the side a graveyard with tilted headstones and rock-hewn angels with dirty rain-water tear tracks. They mourn the loss of now rotting body and bone.Opening the heavy doors, I hold it open as Pike and Ves step in, surveying the ins

June, and early summer rains down on Lonewood in golden rays of light. The green of the pines is firmer, and the smell of pine wanders in the air, like a fly that has been hit but somehow manages to stay aloft.The other trees grow their leaves, shielding the people underneath the harsh rays. Summer break started, and I began to spend much more time with my crew.Most of the time we spend at the community pool. Occasionally at the mall. Nights we sometimes are at each other's houses, playing cards and watching what the normal people of the world watched when they were kids or were 'classics' to them. And yes, there was some booze. I didn't drink most of the time because it hurts my head, and I swoon easily.It's a very big pool and the whole town could go and there'd still be enough chairs and water space to relax comfortably. A good deal of children swim in the pool, and high school kids from Lonewood played in the area with volleyball nets strung across a portion of the pool.Today,

Looking through my closet, I try to see if anything else might be appropriate in wearing to the party. I heard from Ves that pretty much all of the kids in our grade are invited. Not a lot being in our grade might be the reason behind it. I'm wearing a light blue button-up shirt that hugs my torso lightly and my white khakis. I don't know what to exactly wear to this type of gathering. It's a birthday party, so that could mean somewhat formal. But from what I've observed some of the teens doing and wearing these days, it might be something else. They might be wearing jeans and ripped t-shirts. I don't know. I close my closet and walk over to my bed. On it are my trusty Ruger and a birthday present. Well, two presents. I know from our junior year that Dane likes the color red. A lot. But besides that, I don't know anything that he likes. He seems to adore working out, and art. So I bought him a can of red oil paint and a matching red hoodie. His size I roughly guessed, but I t

After arriving home, I made sure to check all the locks on my apartment, as well as my inventory of weapons. I managed to bring several boxes of the .380 bullets that are the size for my gun, and there's also a stash of guns that was in the apartment. A shotgun, one machine gun, and also a generous amount of munitions. It's more than enough to protect myself.Pulling out my Ruger, I also pull out the spare gun from under my bed, where it's stashed with my file with the compromising information. The only link to my former career. The spare is hardly used, whereas the one I pulled out from my pocket is weathered and old.Scratches crisscross the stock, and the two sights are somewhat scratched. But the top is still intact, so I can still aim. I pull out the magazine and see that there still the six bullets in it. Good.Snapping it back in, I set the gun back down and check my spare gun. It's loaded. I also check the multiple guns in the metal suitcase that is painted black. They're load