Better late than never, right?

[happywylo.livejournal.com]

Yeah, it's belated, but I'm a busy chica. Here's the EotD, partially inspired by the fact that I walked by a conversation at, probably, just the right time earlier today :)



"You know, I knew someone who did a school shooting..."
"You aren't serious."
A beat. "No. No, of course not. What would the odds of that be?"

Screaming.

It was unbelieveable the lack of screaming that was going on, although there was a fair bit of whimpering and more than a few mumbled prayers in various languages. The pop music in the background just kept going, muffled from the cheap sound system that this far too pricey university had installed in the gym.

Second floor. Treadmills, Stair Masters, various other machienes.

She was on her knees, pressing the slowly brightening thin gym towels against the wide-eyed man's side. Sweat was sticky in her hair, her shirt clung to her, and she stared off past the frightened animal gaze of the man she was helping - pressing both her and his gym towels together in an attempt to stop the blood - and fixed on Caleb.

Caleb. Her roommate's best friend.
Nights of pranks, drunk dials, and wild drugged up parties filled her head.

Another shot went off.

"Caleb."