Song: Antidote By Faith Marie

It's all over the radio, all over the news and social media. Anthony lost it. My phone keeps going off and I don't bother answering it. My door flings open scaring the living daylights out of me and my dad is standing there staring back at me in panic mode.

"What the hell! Don't you know how to answer the freaking phone?"

"I'm sorry, it kept going off so I turned it off."

"Dear God you're ok. I was freaking worried." He entered the room, walking over to my bed with heavy feet causing my room to shake. I have been all morning...all day actually.

"Dad I am fine; I'm right here. I saw the school shooting; how bad is it?"

"It's bad baby...really bad." He sits on the edge of my bed and embraces me for a few minutes before pulling back away from me.

I start to get worried and my heart starts racing. "Dad, was anyone hurt?"

He nods his head.

I look up at him. "Did anyone die?"

He nods his head again. "He was there all morning and never done a thing. He waited till lunch when the cafeteria was filled. He just started shooting. He shot several students most were football players, I think."

Oh my God...Jake. Tell me he didn't shoot him. I know we are no longer together but I still have feelings for him. My voice cracks, "Daddy...you are scaring me...did he shoot Jake?" Tears form in my eyes.

He nods, "He is at the hospital at the moment. It's a mad house up in there honey. I am so glad I made you stay home today."

"Daddy, do you think he would have shot me too?" I ask him even though I already know the answer.

He doesn't say a word.

Then he hugs me again. "No baby, I don't think that," he lies to me. I know he is lying.

I already know that he was looking for me. I saw the videos that are already posted to the net. I can hear him yelling for me. I don't see him, so whoever done the video was not in the hallway where he was but you can hear him plain as day calling out my name. I should have never survived that night. He was coming back to finish me off and he would have if I had been there. I know he would have.

My dad has to leave to go back into the office and when he does I pull it up on the laptop. Anthony took two guns to school, no one even noticed it. Not until he pulled them out. He shot over fifteen students, killing six from the football team and one cheerleader. In the end he took his own life. I cry into my pillow.

What if I could have prevented this from happening; I was so cruel to him the last time we spoke. I told him to grow the fuck up, to be a man and stand up to his dad. He kept trying to apologize and I couldn't forgive him for what he did to me. Is that wrong of me? He could have told his dad no; he could have stood up to him but he was just as scared as much as I was. I should have forgiven him for what he done. I should have stood up to all the kids at school and told them to mind their own business. Anthony was going through just as much shit as I was.

And then I remember the fire, the flames that took over the house. I was no better than all of them. I set the house on fire. I'm the one who helped take that part of his life away from him. I killed his mom and his sister and forced him to be homeless, that was me...I did that.

Oh Shit....what if this is all my doing? I feel so bad now. I never meant to hurt anyone but I was hurting so much inside. I just wanted the pain to stop, to be over with. I only made matters worse. Now friends are hurt, shot and some are even dead. I will never be able to forgive myself for the pain I caused.

I wrestle with the bad thoughts that go through my mind. I am no better than he is. I just can't do this anymore. I debate on whether or not I should text my dad. Tell him the truth of it all. Instead I tear out a page from my notebook. I write him the letter.

Dad,

So much has happened. I just can't explain it. It was all my fault. I will take the blame for it all. You see I could have said no...I should have said no and I didn't. No one forced me to go into that house, into that room. But what lead afterwards was beyond my control. Mr. Harper did very bad things to me...things I can't talk to you about. But Anthony did too. His dad forced him to do those things to me and he did. I never said anything about it and I'm sorry. Anthony is the one who left me to die. I think he was supposed to have killed me but he left me there. He only did what his dad told him to do. If I had died that night...all this other stuff wouldn't have happened. So you see it's all my fault...in a way. You were right all along. I did go back to their house. I set the house on fire and watched it burn. But you know that already...don't you.

It's just been so hard...living day to day. Watching everyone around me in a blur. I don't fit in anymore. I am a loser just as much as he was. And this pain that lives inside me will not go away. I should have forgiven him for his actions and maybe the shooting would not have happened. Maybe those that died would still be here...maybe Anthony would still be here. I can't do this anymore. I just can't...please forgive me if you can. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to hurt anyone.

Love Katana

I know it is not fair to my dad. Hell my mom left and now I am leaving him too. I hope he can forgive me. I just can't face life anymore. I can't deal with what lies ahead of me. I walk over to my jewelry box and pull out the razor. I have used it several times already but nothing to do any real damage, just always enough to feel the pain. Don't judge me this is how I am dealing with this at the moment. I know I need help. I do but I keep brushing the pain aside and telling him that I'm alright, I'm fine. But I'm not. I take a deep breath, knowing all of this will be over soon. No more pain...no more worries. I sit on the floor, leaning against my bed. It takes only a quick second to slice my wrist and watch the blood flow.

Sheriff Harlow:

It's been one hell of a night. I leave work earlier than planned. I just feel like I need to be home with her. I need to make sure she is safe. So much shit going down today. All the lights are on in the house. I walk in and the house is actually super quiet.

"I'm home," I yell out so that she won't be scared if she sees me.

She doesn't reply.

I walk towards her room and knock on the door before going in. She is not in her bed. I go to close her door and that's when I see her arm hanging out on the other side of the bed. "Katana, what are you doing in the floor?" I walk over to her and that is when I see all the blood. "Shit! God dammit, what the hell? Katana...Katana."

I shake her and she is motionless. I rip the sheets on her bed and wrap it around both wrist to stop the bleeding. I check her pulse and she is barely holding on. I don't waste time calling 911. Instead I pick her up and carry her to the patrol car. I put her in the back and turn on the lights, flying the hell out of there.

"Hold on sweetheart, everything is going to be ok...hold on," I reassure her as I look back at her in the rearview mirror.

I almost run over a few people walking by the emergency room door. I jump out and open the door to carry her inside. "I need help! Someone freaking help me out here." I yell as I go in.

Two nurses come running over and help me get her on the bed. I watch as they take her back. "Sheriff, what happened?"

"I don't know. I got home and found her this way...just help her...please...just help her."

"We will do everything we can alright."

Within the hour the doctor comes out to see me. "We meet again...Sheriff."

I ignore the attitude. "How is she?"

"She is going to be fine. Another ten minutes or so she wouldn't have made it but you found her just in time. She is a tough girl that's for sure. We stitched her up, there will be scars but she is all good. We would like to keep her over night if that is alright?"

"Yeah...ok." I run my hands through my hair in frustration. "Can I see her?"

"You can but maybe you should give her till the morning. Go home, get cleaned up. She will be here when you get back."

I look down at myself and blood is all over me. I guess I could take a quick shower and get a change of clothes. So that is what I do. I clean her room up first. Scrubbing all the blood off of the floors. I find the razor blade and toss it in the trash. As I am getting ready to take out her trash I see the note on the bed side table.

I have to sit down to read it. I can't believe that she actually thinks any of this is her fault. She can't control what others have done. I need to get her help. I thought going to the Academy would help her but now I think sending her to the health facility will be best for her at this point in time.

I talk to a few of the doctors here at the hospital and several have recommended it. The doctor in charge is Sarah Donavan; they say she can do wonders with teens and young adults going through a difficult time like this. So I give her a call and thankfully they have room for her. Now it's just telling her that our plans have changed.