On April 1, East Greenwich police arrested a 15-year-old student of East Greenwich High School on charges of threatening a public official and disorderly conduct after an essay he handed in raised concerns because of the high school shooting spree it depicted.
The essay by East Greenwich High School sophomore is reprinted here:
The Last Bullet
The parking lot I feel the gun against my side, it's shaking, or maybe that's just the nerves. The cigarette in my hand burns me, meaning it's finished; I toss it on the ground and step on it, flattening the butt with my heavy boot. I exhale. “Are you ready?” I ask my self, I respond with a simple nod. As I walk towards the school, I wonder how successful this will be. It's certainly not the first school shooting and I intend to take as many people as I can down with me. Other shootings have failed miserably, but this won't. I won't let it. I approach the school listening to the wind whistling around me, my trench coat flaps in the breeze.
The entrance of my school is this huge glass facade. I debate putting a few holes in it, but realize that that would blow my cover before I could take anyone out. Discretely, I enter the building, luckily, the cop has his back turned to me. I pull out a pistol and take aim. One bullet straight through the back of the head and down he falls. Someone screams. Without even looking, I take them out in one shot. This big jocular guy runs at me, I laugh at his bravery as I gun him down. They say dogs can smell fear, I now know that smell. It's a bitter smell, reminiscent of sh--. I take a knee and tighten my boots, as I listen to the principal making some announcement about the school being in lockdown. By now all the teachers have “hid” the students in their respective classrooms. What a joke. Any student who wanted to do this would know exactly where to find their peers.
I kick down a door and step over it, entering the room. One glance shows me exactly where the huddled group of students is. Pathetic. I open fire. Bullet shells clink as they fall to the tiled floor.
To be cont’d