[[Kyran Dean Continued From: Joy of Repetition - Kills You
Ten minutes to Nine AM.
For one exhilarating moment, Kyran Dean skidded down the walkways, feeling the roll of the wheels beneath his feet. He wasn't exactly serious about it, so it brought a tiny smirk to his face when he did in fact find a skateboard after all, tucked into one of the shopping center's small security guard rooms. Some kid probably had been doing the same thing he was doing now when this place actually had people populating it and got it confiscated for his pleasure seeking.
It was an old board though still useable as skateboards in general were pretty much ageless. The best part was that it had the word "Whatever" printed on the surface in the scratch style. Perfecto.
Kyran had taken it for himself and pulled back the fingerless skateboarding gloves he'd been wearing when the class trip began. He had worn them more for style at the time, because he hadn't really used a skateboard much ever since badly injuring his ankle while attempting to perform a risky trick down a flight of stairs for the video camera.
At first, Kyran was using it as a fun way to travel faster between the shops, but after a only few minutes he stopped really searching for anything and just kept sliding about, doing quick hops and trick maneuvers, failing a few times, because he'd been rusty at it ever since the injury to his ankle and getting the jeep plus the moped. As a kid he always wanted to do this sort of thing in a mall or something, with no one around, but him and his board and his friends.
Friends like Gray Emerson, who was also on the trip to Disney Land.
He'd been dismissing the thought every time, but Kyran couldn't ignore the fact that a number of his friends were here as well, experiencing the same bloody messed up shit he was, some stuff probably even worse. Not seeing anyone else except Deanna just made it easier to forget. He shook off the thought and continued riding around.
The area itself had Kyran thinking of lyrics from a song he liked.
Dead shopping malls rise like mountains beyond mountains,
And there's no end in sight,
I need the darkness someone please cut the lights.
Quite suitable he thought, as he traveled the area.
A shop's name caught his eye while passing by. First Kyran zigzagged, then he pressed his foot down to break and when he came to a complete stop he 180'd the board so the front pointed in direction to the shop in question, Sound Garden. Interesting name for a shop, Sound Garden was a band, a decent band, not his favorite, probably a music store.
Then he glided in. Or at least he intended to glide in. The speakers cracked on from the mall's intercom, the beeping from the collar he had long phased out as being there, caused him to lose focus.
His arms flew to his neck in shock and the skateboard flew out from under him at the same time, separating from his feet as in continued to sail directly into a Payless Shoes Store all the way down to the end of the walkway, as Kyran himself wiped out in the other direction. He spun mid-air to stop from landing on the back of his head, landing instead at an awkward angle at his side, one of his hands fortunately protecting his face, as the palm touched the ground. A quick zing of pain traveled through his arm, from his forearm and funny bone. There was also a thud, sending twinges of pain through one side of his ribs and air to escape his lungs.
The beeping stopped. It was all a dark joke. Kyran laid there groaning, clutching himself, listening. Before he knew it the announcement was over.
Kyran continued to lay there, face on the ground for a few seconds, which turned into a few minutes, before finally pushing himself up by the palms and dragging himself into the Payless, where his skateboard had rolled into. He found it at the far end of the discount shoe store near the dry wall and in-between two different racks of various sets of women's shoes.
More kids killed. Even more died. All names he knew one way or another.
One of them was, Adonis Alba.
Was this what you meant, Mr. D? Was this the lesson you freaking meant when you said "Guys like Alba would learn their lesson some day?" Now look you're dead and he's dead too.
Those words that had comforted him at a different time only served to make him feel sick now. Kyran didn't like the guy, probably never did. Adonis was a bonafide prick and he was the bully-asshole who he ended up in a fight with and - Kyran once again flicked his tongue over the still healing split on lip - he did this to him. However, no matter how much Kyran didn't like the guy, he would have never wished any of this to happen to him.
Killed by Joachim Lovelace. He'd keep that in mind.
Then there was one other name that made this announcement different from all the others he had heard so far.
His good friend, Alex Ripley was dead too.
So now, his head was downcast with memories as they came flooding back from childhood. He'd known her a long time and now she was gone and he didn't even have the chance to talk to her one last time.
Makatala So'oialo was the classmate who shot and killed her and Carlon Wheeler too. Kyran didn't recognize the name, but figured the person probably went by a more familiar nickname at school. The name hinted that it was a person of Polynesian descent, and there were a few of those in his grade.
He'd have to keep that in mind as well.
Then there was Mallory McCormick. He didn't know her all that well, but she was cool enough to hang around with on the day of the Senior Prom since he was banned from it. They both bonded over a mutual dislike for Adonis at the time. Now she was gone just like the rest.
Gunned down in her own pillow fort. By Hansel Williams. That was the third name he was going to keep in mind.
Worst part of it was that he saw the aftermath firsthand and personal.
That bloody blanket and pillow fort in The Linen's N' Things had to be Mallory's and he felt sick just thinking about it.
On a different day, Kyran might have punched that drywall. But not today. Instead, he rested his back against the wall and slid down against it onto the floor, until he was sitting, knees up in front of him, head down in silence. He placed a hand on his skateboard as he rolled it with his palm side to side.
For how long, he didn't know nor cared.
Who knew that this was the age that you start losing friends?