Triggered

By Paige P. Carranza

Merely five months into the year and the twenty-fifth school shooting in the United States has taken place. Today, the shooter was Graham Parker, a senior at LeValle High. The aftermath of the shooting has left students, residents, first responders and even Graham's own mother in a state of shock as they are forced to return to life only hours after losing thirty-six people at the hands of the gunman. TRIGGERED peeks into the evening hours of the witnesses after experiencing the most horrific day of their lives. How do they pick up the pieces and face tomorrow after a day like today?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Sep 16, 2018
• ISBN: 9780359094042

Book preview

Triggered

Triggered

By

Paige P. Carranza

.

TRIGGERED by Paige P. Carranza. Published by Paige P. Carranza and createspace.com.

© 2018 Paige Carranza

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact:

[e-mail]

Cover by Paige P. Carranza

ISBN: 978-1721034161

Dedicated to all of the victims of senseless gun violence and their families.

I began to individually list all of your names.

Unfortunately, there were far too many.

My heart is with you today and always.

End the madness. End the violence. Their lives are more important.

#NeverAgain

Before you read:

Any actual names or likenesses are completely coincidental. Although all of the events in this book are fictional, this book contains scenes and descriptions of gun violence in a school, as well as descriptions of characters’ emotions, that may trigger stress responses in victims or witnesses of gun violence.

Your emotional state is more important to me than sales, readings, reviews, or even the success of this book.

If there is any chance you feel you may be severely affected from the content of this book, please close it now.

All my love,

Paige P. Carranza

Chapter 1

Today, for the twenty-fifth time in the United States this calendar year, someone walked into a school with a semi-automatic weapon and opened fire on hundreds of unsuspecting students. That someone was Graham Parker. Thirty-six people were killed; thirty-two were students.

So, tell me about your son.

Bernice sighed heavily and leaned forward in her chair, placing her elbows on the table in front of her and leaned her forehead against her palms, where her blonde highlighted hair curtained and framed her heavily made-up face.

I can’t do this.

You need to. You know that as much as I do.

She rested her head as she sat back in her chair, looking to the sky as if silently begging God for an answer. Any answer that would make any sense. Tears slowly welled in the corners of her brown eyes but she used both middle fingers, with French manicured acrylic nail extensions, to gently stop them from falling and ruining her mascara.

Ma'am?

Give me a damn second, would ya?  Her filled-in brows furrowed. I lost a child today, too.

Take all the time you need.

Her eye contact fleeted away as her feet involuntarily trembled against the concrete floor of the interrogation room, shaking the table and the entire room around her. She looked down at her palms and scraped the inside of each nail, removing debris.

He...he's a good kid.  The pain got trapped in her throat as she tried to muster the words that she couldn't believe she had to say.

He's had problems, you know? Like any other kid who's a little different. He got picked on, and, I don't know.

Did you ever talk to him about the bullying?

Of course, all the time.

What did you do to resolve it?

She chuckled in a breath. What didn't we do?

I need you to be specific.

She scowled.  Counseling, anger management, we talked to the school, to the parents. We signed him up for karate. We wrote personal affirmations. Name it.  Her voice shakes heavier as she forces her frustrated tears back.

Did any of it help?

Yes! I mean, I don't know. I thought it did. He seemed happier. He said the bullies stopped. His grades improved. I really... She took a moment to catch her breath. I really thought he was making progress.

Did you see any warning signs that he was planning on doing this?

No, no, nothing. I'm still convinced you've got the wrong guy.

Your son confessed, you know?

I know, God damn it! Her fists met the table, sending a loud echo through the empty room. After taking a breath to aid her heartache, she slouched in her seat. I just don't wanna believe it.

Finally, despite her best efforts, a tear fell from the corner of her eye, leaving a light black stain on her cheek.

Her heart pounded in her chest with a tearing ache. She knew she had done everything she could do to build up his confidence. To show him his worth. To show that the bullies weren't worth it. How could he do this?

Mrs. Parker?

With her head still bowed in defeat, she averted her eyes to meet the investigator's.

How did he get the guns?

Oh God... Her voice broke as more involuntary tears seeped.

How did he get the guns?

I... I have no idea.  She wept.

Do the guns belong to you, Mrs. Parker?

No! She exclaimed.

His father?

No! No, we don't own any guns!

So how could a seventeen-year-old boy obtain a Glock and an AR-15?

She folded her arms on the table in front of her and cradled her head in the space, sobbing heavily from her chest.

I don't know! We're activists!

Activists? The investigator was perplexed.

She sat up. Her face was drenched in tears and smeared make up.

Anti-gun activists! I've been an activist since the beginning of 2013. All those children, it broke my heart. Oh God. Oh God, Graham. He...oh God! Bernice's head hit the table again as she cried, grabbing her chest, desperate to make the pain of her new reality go away.

Ma’am?

Listen! She shot up quickly. "All of these questions that you’re asking me, I’m already asking myself. None of this makes sense, okay? None of it! That’s my baby. I raised him better. He’s seen me at these monthly rallies. He’s come to some of them, too! I told him what to do if, God forbid, some lunatic came to shoot up his school. Jesus! If I would have only known he would be the lunatic!"

Mrs. Parker, please calm down.

I can’t.  She hollered. My own flesh and blood took over thirty lives today.

Yes, he did. That’s why we need you to cooperate.

I don’t know what you want me to tell you.  She sniffed.  All I can do is go home and look for more evidence for you, but I assure you, there isn’t any.

"We