The Kilwade Tragedy

by Terry Keys

  I pulled out of the driveway and headed back for the woods. It was the only place where I felt I could be myself. Outside of Mark, those woods knew more about me than anyone. It was the only place where I’d for sure be alone until the game.

  Twenty minutes later I was at the entrance of the woods. I put the car in park. The sun was finally starting to come up.

  I set my phone on the dash and put a box of ammo behind it to prop it up.

  I clicked open the camera app and then turned on the video. I took a deep breath and hit record.

  “What’s up bro? I know you’re going to hate me for this for a long time and I’m sorry. Just know that you were the one good thing that I had left. You were always there for me bro. I’ve been hurting for a long time, man – and – and I just don’t want to feel anymore. I know that you won’t be able to understand that and it’s okay if you’re mad at me for a while for leaving like this and well doing what I’m going to do. But they gotta pay man. They gotta pay for torturing me. I can see the smug look on their faces now. I’m going to fix that though. I’m not a bad person – you know that. But you can only take so much and I’m done taking. I’ve been taking everyone’s shit for a long time. I’m tired of having to look over my shoulders. They point and try to do it slyly, but I hear the snickers. And I’m not as strong as you – I can’t just ignore them anymore. And I don’t want them to pick on anyone else. And after today, they won’t. I don’t have much more to say. Find you a good wife and get the hell out of Kilwade bro. I’ll check in from time to time. You better believe that. I love you bro.”

  Several tears fell onto my phone.

  I pushed the stop button on the video. I created a text message to Mark and added the video – I’d send it to him right before I went into the stadium.

  My eyes were still full of tears but I didn’t even bother to wipe them away. I wiped my nose on my shirt.

  I turned the car off and popped the trunk open. My fishing rods were back there. There was a whole day ahead of me before I hit the football game. A good day for fishing.

  I grabbed two poles and my tackle box.

  This man-made lake had been stocked with bass, trout, perch and flounder. There was a fifty-yard pier that I loved fishing from. And a kayak hidden in the bushes where Mark and I had left it.

  I walked over to the pier, set one pole down and cast the other out into the water. After I tightened the line, I sat it in a pole holder. Then I picked up the other pole and cast it out a few feet away from the first line.

  I opened my folding chair and plopped down in it. The sun was up now but it wasn’t hot yet. As far as I could see across the lake it was still.

  My eyes snapped open as the sound of my reel being yanked awakened me. I grabbed my cell phone to see how long I’d been out. Nearly two hours. I quickly picked up the line and pulled up on it hard. But whatever had bit was long gone now. I cast the line back out into the lake and re-anchored the pole.

  I picked up my phone and went to my Snapchat app and watched a few people’s stories. Then I opened Twitter and scrolled through it. It was weird to think that this was probably my last time scrolling through my Twitter feed.

  My body froze as I scrolled down to the next video. It was a video of me getting my face kicked in. They’d blocked their faces in the video

  – probably so they wouldn’t get into trouble at school. The video had gotten thousands of views already. People enjoyed watching other people get humiliated. But why?

  Stupidly, I began reading through the comments.

  Look at that little bitch.

  My dead granny fights better than him.

  What a coward – at least go down swinging.

  Why ya’ll picking on a girl?

  Punk ass white boy.

  There were almost a thousand comments and over five hundred thousand likes on the video. I closed the app and jammed my phone in my pocket.

  I gritted my teeth together then smashed a fist into the pier. My hand pulsed with pain from hitting the wood.

  All this shit with Nikki, my parents and this Richard Bailey calling me suddenly was a lot. But the beef with Tre and everything that came with it…

  I thought back to the day it all started six months before. We’d separated into teams in English to play a game incorporating questions from our lessons to prepare us for an upcoming test. Tre and I were both team captains for our respective teams. Which meant every time we got an answer right, we got to shoot a basket into a stupid Nerf goal hanging on the white board. It was the only way you could score a point. Getting the question right gave you a chance to shoot for a point. The score was nine to nine with the next one to make a basket being the winner. Tre’s team had gotten three questions in a row correct, but he’d missed the shots after to seal the win. Finally, we answered one right. I made the shot and my team won. Before that game, I didn’t know if I’d ever touched a basketball or shot anything but a gun. The kids on both teams had been sure to let me know I looked like it. They laughed at how un-athletic I was. But somehow there I was tied with Tre and with the chance to win. The kids had all turned on Tre. How could he have let this punk/geek keep the score so close? Maybe Tre wasn’t as good of an athlete as they thought? Maybe Blaze should come be the QB for the football team too? Wayne had turned to him and said, “If you let this scrub beat you – I may have to disown you bro.” It was all fun and games, but Tre had had enough. He stared at me hard and if I hadn’t known any better, he was daring me to make it. I’d actually thought about missing and looking back, I probably should have. But I didn’t miss. The shot went in, my team went crazy. They hugged me and acted like we’d just won the NBA title. Tre’s team heckled and teased him. Finally, the teacher made them stop but it was too late. He sent me a text after the bell rang that read, you’re going to pay for that faggot. I wasn’t sure how he’d even gotten my number. I didn’t respond. I really didn’t know what to say. I was happy that we’d won – it felt good. But at what cost? He spent the next few weeks ramping up the taunts and bullying until he had the entire football team and half the school joining in. It felt like he’d spent all night coming up with new ways to taunt me every day. Week after week – month after month with no end in sight, they bullied me.

  The line on my reel snapped tight again. I stood up and pulled up on it hard. This time there was something pretty strong on the line. After a two-minute battle I landed a huge bass. I held him up and took a quick selfie with it before releasing it back into the lake.

  My phone rang. It was Mark. I’d been dodging his texts, so I figured I’d take this call. I wanted to hear his voice one last time.

  “Hey bro, sorry I hadn’t called you back. Been a hectic few days.”

  “Yeah man, what the hell?”

  “I know. I know I suck.”

  “Where are you? You’re not here?”

  I didn’t know what to say so I just stayed silent.

  “Blaze?”

  “Just needed a break. I’m at the lake but-”

  “Great. I’m skipping sixth and seventh, so I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Uh, I gotta work.”

  He had to know that I was off today. We were supposed to come to the lake together later on.

  “Did they just call you in? Thought you were off? And we were supposed to-”

  “Uh, yeah I was. Someone called in.”

  I hated lying to Mark but I couldn’t risk him showing up at the lake.

  “Okay, well what time do you go in? I’ll come up there for a bit.”

  “Two to close.”

  “Okay, I’ll head up around nine.”

  “That sounds good bro. What are you about to get into now?”

  “Got something I gotta do tonight.”

  “Sounds sinister, Mr. Creepy guy.”

  “As a matter of fact, it will be,” Mark said laughing.

  “Yeah right. Okay bro, I’ll see you later.”

  “Yes sir.”
/>   “Take care of yourself,” I said before hanging up the phone. I felt my eyes watering up. Mark didn’t deserve his best friend leaving like this. But I didn’t see another way. Deep down he had to know this was coming too. It had probably been something that he didn’t want to believe.

  I looked down at the time on the phone. I knew I only had a few hours left before the football game would begin. I rubbed my hands together and realized they were sweating again. I’d been so sure about what I was going to do but now I was suddenly nervous. Could I bounce back after everything that’d happened? Or had my life been reduced to being nothing but a giant laughing stock?

  My phone dinged this time with a message from Stephanie.

  Mr. Hunter called me said you’re not at school. Where are you Blaze?

  I didn’t bother texting her back.

  A few seconds later I got another text. This time it was from John.

  I owe you an apology for treating you the way I did at the jail the other day. Your mother texted me about some of the things going on – can we talk?

  Now he wants to talk? How about wanting to talk before he walked out on the family? Whatever. I mean he isn’t my real dad anyways, right?

  What happened to talking before you ran out on us?

  What do you want me to say Blaze? Yeah, I screwed that up too.

  Doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve got a plan to fix it all John.

  And what might that be?

  This conversation was over too. I put the phone in sleep mode and tossed it into my chair.

  I stared out into the calmness of the lake and took a deep relaxing breath. I held it for a long time before exhaling slowly.

  My car was about forty yards away. I wouldn’t need the rods and reels anymore, so I left them behind. I walked slowly back to my car, kicking rocks as I went. The seats were hot. Texas heat was no joke. I started the car and cranked the A/C on high.

  As I drove along, I took a second and third look at the town that I’d grown up in. Nearly every business had a sign or banner about the football team. It was literally football or bust here.

  I pulled into the back high school parking lot towards the rear so I wouldn’t be seen. The band was still on the practice field warming up. There were a handful of football players already on the field too.

  I wiped my hands on my pants because I could feel them sweating again. My heart was pounding in my chest. Despite the A/C being on sweat rolled down my face.

  My phone dinged. I had a Twitter notification. Someone had tagged me in the video of me getting a beat down. How nice of them.

  I commented, my next video will get more views – I promise.

  Two minutes later people were responding to my comment.

  You’ll never top this video loser.

  I’d love to see it.

  Who’s gonna beat you up next time – midgets?

  I didn’t respond to any of them. Soon enough they’d all know.

  Inside my bag was a pair of binoculars that I’d brought. I took them out and raised them to my face.

  Behind the fieldhouse was a group of three or four people huddled together. I zoomed in on them. Mr. Hunter was tall. Almost six foot six, so if he was around you could very easily tell if it was him. Our head football coach was probably pushing three hundred pounds, so he was pretty easy to spot too. Then there was a player and one other person that I couldn’t identify.

  I zoomed in further to see who else was with them. Hunter’s hands flailed up and down. He was clearly unhappy about something. But what? Finally, I made out the player who was already suited to play. It was Tre. Tre Johnson. My blood boiled. Now Hunter’s flailing made sense. Someone had obviously lobbied for him to play. So much for being out and suspended from school. So much for being held accountable for humiliating me. Welcome to Kilwade.

  I couldn’t believe they were actually going to let him play. After what he’d done to me. I tried to hold the binoculars steady, but my hands were shaking. I was pissed. If I’d had any second thoughts, they were gone now. This had to be done. A few seconds later Coach Oberson slapped Tre on the ass and he trotted out onto the field. The three adults stayed behind, still huddled up behind the fieldhouse. I tossed the binoculars across the car and slammed my hands into the steering wheel.

  I looked over at the stadium scoreboard. There was about ten minutes before kickoff now. I didn’t want to walk in without a crowd. There was more risk of me being stopped about my backpack.

  I drove over to the main parking lot, turned the car off and took a deep breath.

  I slipped on my trench coat and threw my backpack on.

  As I walked towards the stadium I put on a pair of sunglasses and a baseball cap. I didn’t want anyone to recognize me.

  I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. Mark again.

  About to do that thing I told you about earlier. Can’t wait to tell you about it.

  What the hell was he talking about?

  When I got a few feet from the ticket booth, I already had my money in hand.

  “One?” the lady asked.

  I nodded and she handed me one ticket.

  Next, I walked towards the gate. There was a cop, but he was only interested in watching the player’s warmup.

  The line was about ten deep to enter the stadium. I hoped I could get by him before he spotted me.

  I handed my ticket to the woman collecting them and waltzed in. They’d just finished the Star Spangled Banner and the teams were going onto the field to start the game.

  My heart pounded hard. It felt like everyone was watching me. Like they knew why I was there.

  I walked under the bleachers where I’d been the day before beside the storage area. There were people everywhere, but no one seemed to be paying much attention to me. In less than a minute I had both AR-15s together with the magazines loaded into each one.

  I took out my phone and sent Mark the video message that I’d recorded for him. Then my phone rang. Mark couldn’t have watched the video so quickly.

  It was my mother calling – urgent. Shit. Shit. She must have found my letter. I declined the call and text her back with a custom message

  – too late.

  “Hey!” a voice boomed. It sounded cop like. I slowly turned around. I had both AR-15s hidden under my coat.

  “Yes sir?”

  “What are you doing over there?” the cop asked.

  Shit.

  “Uh my phone fell from the bleachers,” I lied looking at the bleachers above me.

  The cop looked up and then back at me. “Okay well hurry up and move along.”

  I nodded and the cop turned to walk away. My heart was beating even faster now. The phone in my pocket kept ringing. Then I remembered who that cop was – Redding. The one that had arrested me for fighting and let Tre and Wayne go. I wanted to put two into his spine but I didn’t.

  A minute later an announcement came over the PA. “Kilwade has taken a timeout on the field.” I knew that I’d be able to get a bunch of the players as they were huddled up. This is what I’d spent hours practicingin the woods for. There was nowhere for them to run. Nowhere for them to hide. Now they would pay.

  I walked up the bleachers and then looked out onto the field. It didn’t take me long to spot Tre and Wayne. This was it.

  I quickly looked left and right to see where the nearest police officer was. There were three or four on the field and one manning the gate to access the field. I knew I wouldn’t have much time before they zeroed in on me and then it would be over. The student section to my right was bustling with my peers. It didn’t matter which of them I got. I just wanted some of them. And they didn’t have to die. Just hurt – hurt the way I had. Kilwade would remember this day forever. The kids that had poked fun at me and treated me like dirt, they would remember the name Blaze Planter until the day they died. These heartless pieces of shit deserved what they had coming. This was karma – I was karma.

  I turned my attention back to the fie
ld and eyed Tre and Wayne as they stood holding their helmets in their hands. I flipped the safeties off both weapons and slid them out from under my coat.

  In a wide sweeping motion, I started shooting onto the field. The first shots hit Tre and Wayne. I made certain of that. I saw them fall but I kept aiming at them both. I could hear screaming and yelling behind me. Chaos ensued. Over half the players had either fallen to the ground or I had mowed them down. Everything was happening so fast. He’s got a gun, I heard someone yell. I was certain by now that the cops to my right had guns drawn and were very close to finding me. They could even be shooting at me by now.

  I spun around and aimed both guns into the student section and unleashed hell on the stands. I smiled as I watched them drop and blood spew into the air. “Run!” I yelled at them. The screams of fear and panic were music to my ears. No one was laughing at me now. Blaze-thegeek was in control now.

  Suddenly, a sharp pain zipped through my gut and then another into my right shoulder. The AR-15 in my right hand clattered onto the bleachers. This was it. I knew that it wouldn’t be long now. But I’d gotten what I came for. Then another bullet smashed into my chest and I crashed hard to my knees. I had never been shot before. It hurt – bad. I lay in the bleachers on my back struggling to breath. I spit a mouthful of blood and then another. I strained to take in a deep breathe, but it was no use. And then the sky turned black. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I felt nothing. No pain. No fear. No worry. Nothing. Honestly, it felt good. One last moment for me, and it was pain free. I smiled, but I didn’t feel my face move. I could still hear the screams all around me, but they were softening. The noise continued to fade until finally, I could hear nothing. Now I was free. Friday, October 23rd

  Chapter 25

  Mr. Hunter looked down at the newspaper clipping in front of him. It was the front page of the Houston Chronicle dated August 24th. The headline read, The Kilwade Tragedy and there was a picture of all twenty-one slain students and a picture of the shooter – Blaze Planter.