boyguro
Заводной апельсин
Senior year, the peak of your high school life. As a tradition in your local Riverdell High School, the twelfth grade class of, at the time, twenty-seven students began preparing an assembly concert for the first Friday of the first week of school as soon as the schoolyear began. Costumes were sewn, guitars were polished, in a town like Riverdell something as mundane as a recital was seen as one of the most exciting events of the year along with the Christmas talent show. You had your fair share of band geeks who couldn't wait to blow into their trumpets in front of the student body, wallflowers who awkwardly sang in the background and varsity jacket wearing meatheads who shot spitballs at whoever they decided was worth victimizing that day. Nothing abnormal, same as every year. However. Wednesday, 2:37 PM, ear piercing gunshots are heard throughout the halls, teachers demand all students to hide, turn off the lights, close the windows, lock the doors. All except, those in the sound-proof music room filled with loud blaring of instruments, blocking out the horrifying shootings bellowing through the institute. As quickly as possible, three teachers and a janitor called the police but by the time the criminals had made their way from the library to the auditorium, one of the rooms closest to the entrance, it was too late.
Twenty-seven went down to nine and shortly after eight, a suicide case traumatized by the collective death of their classmates. What had been your typical class split up into alternative cliques became a small group of silent students, staring into walls everyday replaying every possible scenario and 'what if's'. And so, Blurryface was born. Originally its intent was a website for people to post their loving words to the victims of the shooting, a memorial page, a 'graveyard' of sorts. That was until users started posting accusations like "I bet Josh didn't let Andy hide with him because he wanted him to die" or "Sketchy much that the head cheerleader survived but none of the Mathletes did?".
You begin to question yourself. Did I value my life over those of others? Did I want them to die? Could I have saved them? Did I kill them? People start talking, rumors start spreading and Blurryface becomes more and more popular every day, exposing truths and lies that are for the eyes of others to decide which is which.
Eight students. Nineteen deaths. One blog.
"My name is Blurryface, and I care what you think."
