Free The 8th by Matt Shaw Page B

his file from his previous school. I told them about the bullying but it was, more or less, brushed under the carpet. Piers and his friends, of course, denied everything. What made it worse, with regards to Piers and his buddies, was that every time I looked at them - they were laughing. I’m not sure what about but...Did none of them feel any remorse? Did they honestly believe they weren’t to blame for what happened to David?
     
    “What are you doing in here?” mum asked. I was sitting in dad’s office. An office which was normally out of bounds due to the sensitive documents he sometimes had with him. I could never help but wonder why, if they were so sensitive, he brought them home and, more importantly, what difference it made whether we were allowed in the study or not...It wasn’t as though he left them on his desk. They were all locked away in his large wall safe. Speaking of which...I was frantically trying to guess the combination. “I asked you a question.” The locking mechanism of the safe clicked open. Success. Having tried his date of birth, mum’s date of birth, my date of birth...I was surprised when it clicked open on their wedding anniversary. In a world this shitty it was nice to see he still valued his marriage - more than can be said for some couples. Unless, of course, he just doesn’t know how to change the combination code now that it is set. “Get away from there...Your father will kill you.”
     
    I doubt it. He’s never here.
     
    I pulled the door open. There it is. Just as I had hoped. I reached in and took hold of his handgun. His favourite piece to use whenever he is training new cadets. At least, that’s what he tells me it’s for. For all I know he could have purchased it from the black market just as a source of protection for the house. I wonder if mum knew it was here? I only knew from when I had seen it over his shoulder.
     
    “Put that down!” mum said sternly as I pulled the gun from the safe.
     
    “I can’t. I need it.”
     
    “Need it? For what?”
     
    I just looked at her. She knew what it was for. Did I really have to spell it out? I need it to teach them a lesson. All of them. Just as David wanted to do. I’m doing it for David...
     
    “You’re not leaving the house with it,” mum said. She blocked the doorway. I can only hope she isn’t going to test me. “You’re not taking that to school,” she continued - proof that she knew exactly what I wanted it for.
     
    “Yes, I am. I need to show them they can’t push people around anymore. I need to show them there are consequences to their actions. They need to know I’m not afraid. They need to know...”
     
    “You’re not afraid? Then you don’t need to take a gun to school...”
     
    “I need to show them!” I shouted. I could feel my eyes start to well up. “Did you know David wasn’t the first to kill himself at my school? There were others too...Others who were bullied like David. The first I have heard of this was yesterday...In the cafeteria...People talking about it...Remembering the others who had taken their lives as well because they were bullied...”
     
    “So you go and hurt the one who bullied your friend?” said mum. “There will just be another bully further down the line. No matter what is said and done, there will always be someone to take their place.”
     
    “There doesn’t have to be. I can teach them. I can show them the error of their ways. I can show them. They won’t hurt anyone again. They won’t. And when news gets out about what I’ve done...When the news gets out - no one will want to hurt anyone again...”
     
    “You’re being silly,” said mum, “the world doesn’t work like that.”
     
    “It can. No one has tried it yet.”
     
    “I’m sorry about your friend. You know I am. If you want to look at changing schools, I’ll talk with your father when he calls...”
     
    “What’s the point? Every school is the same! I need to do this. Not