Columbine Shooting Book Novels & Stories

He had slipped the bomb past every layer of security and sent it to me as a "gift" A new report came over the comms: "Ma'am, an envelope was found on the bomb's casing." By the time I reached the scene, a robotic arm had already lifted the envelope free and set it on the table. There was no letter inside—only a photograph of us as cadets at the military academy. Back then, we were brimming with confidence. In the photo, I was laughing without a care in the world. On its back, words scrawled in blood, jagged and ugly: [You ruined me and Rita. Now I'll ruin you.]

I called again, moving toward the door but I got no answer. This guy is not only a nerd, he is also weird and somehow crazy. I wonder how I was going to cope with him when I joined his book club. I grabbed my phone off the table and unlocked it. As the screen popped on, messages flooded in. Group chats messages , especially the ones I've muted for a while now. ‘Arian Smith, Orleans College Book Club President, Accused of Misusing Club Funds.’ I blinked, trying to wake myself from the dream. I scrolled down, read it again and it was still the same.

Dear Diary, It's been a few days since I last wrote to you. Nothing special happens on my day so I can't tell you anything. Only now can I write to you again because what happened to me last night was so good and satisfying. I killed Rhiza even though she did not do anything bad to me. Maybe I was angry with her for what her girlfriend Clarisse did to me. I promised myself that Clarisse will be the one I will kill next so that they will be together in hell after all, that's where they belong. We will also meet there but it will be a long time before I die. I will just kill my classmates first because they deserve it.

he said with a smirk. I grumbled and went to the bookshelf. There were like thousands of books there, and I spent a good thirty minutes arranging them. Those thirty minutes were stressful, to say the least. "I'm done," I sighed in relief. "You're done?" the young man asked. "Yes, so is my admission safe?" I responded. "Not yet," he replied. "What do you mean by that?!" I yelled in frustration. "Don't shout, just do one more thing," he said calmly.

my dad said, dropping a green dusty book which he pulled from a shelf opposite the room. “Could it be the massacre?” Caine asked, taking the book and blowing off the dust. He opened it and got choked by the dust inside. “No, not the massacre, but what caused the massacre. It’s an old book. Contains years and events that brought the Seekers pack out of their hiding. You can take your time, go through it. Or my daughter could help,” “No, thank you,” Caine and I chorused. We exchanged glances like we weren’t just the people who kissed each other before a large number of persons—-who are now corpses.

The bookshelf was just as tall as Andrew so he could easily access the books there. The bookshelf had all sorts of books, ranging from fictional novels to nonfictional novels, to educational novels and textbooks. Her eyes caught titles like; The Redwall series by Brian Jacques, Caddie Woodlawn by Carol Ryrie Brink, The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros and a lot more. Even the Encyclopedia was in his bookshelf. And there was also some novels on the basis of business and finance. The book the lad was currently reading was The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie.

I pee a lot, and smelling and seeing things that are sensitive to my body makes me puke. "Liam, just leave the poor girl alone." Sydney stepped in and pressed those breasts of hers on Liam's arm. "Come on. The book is a room. So we are going to have loads of fun." Loads of fun, indeed. "Just give me a minute," Liam brushed Sydney off, making her pout. "Lily, are you okay?" I scoffed.