AN: Okay, so recently I've been really obsessed with the Columbine Massacre and learning more about the shooters Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold. This was something I thought of while looking at the webpage www   acolumbinesite    com. It was interesting seeing the boys drawings, and thought in their writing. Specifically in Dylan's he wrote in many entries that he was in love with a Columbine student he briefly knew. In one entry he wrote her a love letter. The points in italics are word for word from the letter found on acolumbinesite if anyone wishes to read the entire thing. Let me just say I can't forgive them for what they did, but I don't label them as monsters, they were just misunderstood kids who did something stupid. Now this story doesn't mean I think if he sent the letter to her this would happen if he and the girl were together. But I feel Dylan was more of the follower and some events went the way they did then maybe he wouldn't have joined in the bloodshed. So that's my explanation. The girl's name is purposely not mentioned.

April 1998

"See you at lunch!" She said, as her small circle of friends dispersed, shuffling toward their morning classes. It had been a good stay at home weekend and return to school. She walked through the crowd of students, passing a group of Jocks on they way to her homeroom class. But she was too close, as the male students pushed her out of the way.

"Watch it!" One of them grunted, as they moved along as if nothing happened. She was used to this, the athletes, the best dressed, the most popular thinking they were so much better than everyone else. Sometimes she wished she could pluck up the courage to shove them right back.

She wasn't all that special, she would often believe about herself, she wasn't popular, she wasn't pretty, she wasn't dating a Jock. Even her friends had a different perspective than she.

They went out to parties, they drank and smoked. They did this while she stayed away, just sitting at home, alone. She imagined the only reason that they stayed as her friend was because they went to elementary school together, same class every year, even through middle school.

Sometimes she wished she could be like them, having fun late at night, having someone special in her life.

She then reached her locker. She only had ten minutes until class started, and she had an important test today for biology. It wasn't her favorite class, but one she had to pass. It felt like the day dragged on until her creative writing class. She just hoped she could stay awake for the day until then.

But as she held her lock, spinning in the combination for the lock, she then noticed the small slip of lined white paper taped to the outer door.

'Strange,'she thought, looking around the hall, 'Who put this here?'

She took out her blue notebook, note still in hand and closed the door. She really wanted to read what the note said, Was it one of her friends doing? Was it a boy? But she knew despite her curiosity that she couldn't skip class.

But looking down at the folded lined paper, it was too tempting as, despite her better judgement, she walked past her homeroom, and entered the library and sat down in the far back behind the high rows of shelves.

There weren't many people in the library today. She could see two students studying together, books scattered on the table, one other student sitting alone and the librarian sitting at the desk near the door.

She opened the note to see it was handwritten, she started from the top.

"You don't consciously know who I am, & doubtedly unconsciously too. I, who write this, love you beyond infinice. I think about you all the time, how this world would be a better place If you loved me as I do you..."

It was a boy! A boy had written this for her!

"I hoped we could have been together... you seem a lot like me. Pensive, quiet, an observer, not wanting what is offered here (school, life, etc.) You almost seem lonely, like me."

She read the note, tracing over the details in awe. There were some spelling mistakes in the neat handwriting, but the message still got across to the girl; she had a secret admirer.

She had no idea who this mystery boy could be. No one had ever liked her in this way before. Was it someone she knew? Did she have a class with him? What did he look like? What kind of movies did he like? She wanted to know so much more about who gave her this love letter. He seemed quite sad in some parts of the love note, he seemed sweet, but very sad.

"Fate put me in need of you, yet this Earth blocked that with uncertainties. I will go away soon, but I just had to write this to you, the the one I truly loved."

She hoped she could help him. He seemed troubled, but why? What he done? Or what had he planned to do?

"The reas reason that I'm writing you now is that I have been caught for the crimes I comitted, & I went want to go to a new existence. You know what I mean. (Suicide) I have nothing to live for, & I won't be able to survive in this world after this legal conviction."

She needed to find out who this was, just to help him, to at least see his face.

Though he did give her a helpful hint to go on.

"However, If you are are who I hoped for in my dreams & realities, then do me a favor: Leave a piece of paper in my locker, Locker #837 - combo=19-37-9 saying anything that comes to you."

That was right near the library! She looked up at the clock. 9:26, she'd been in the library for almost an hour, re-reading the letter. She folded it up gently and tucked it in her jeans pocket. The bell for second rang as she walked out, students pushing through classroom doors. She looked around and walked down he row of blue lockers.

'835, 836...837' She looked at the three numbers, she wanted to open the door and peer inside. She looked around.

'Alright I'll do it,' she thought, not understanding why she was so nervous. It was just a boy's locker. 'Okay, 19, 37-'

"Hey," She turned around, startled at the noise. She turned to see a guy-one of her 'friends' boyfriends-standing there. "How's it going?"

"Fine," She mumbled, she could ask him who used this locker, being that she knew his own locker was in he same hallway. But she wanted to find out by herself. She wanted to be surprised.

"Is this your locker?" He asked, but she just walked away, leaving him confused and unanswered.

"Please, for my sake, dont tell anyone about this, as it was only meant for you."

He asked her not to tell anybody. And she didn't want to betray this trust. So she would wait, wait until no one was around.

So she waited until the end of fourth hour, creative writing, when she was back at the locker. Many were going for the late lunch hour. Only a few wandered the quiet halls, including her. She decided in her writing class, to write a reply to her admirer. She told the teacher it was a freehand short story. She spent the entire hour writing, scratching out, erasing, and re-doing. She would put it in his locker, tape to the inside door where he wold notice it.

So now she was back in front of the locker, now no one she knew was around.

But just in case, she did it quickly '19, 37, 9' The locked clicked open and she opened the door. She didn't see much, some textbooks on the top shelf, and a hat hanging on one of the locker hooks. She picked it up, seeing some signs of age o the hat. It was a sports cap, he liked the Red Sox. She tried to think if she remembered who wore a Red Sox cap that she knew, but couldn't think of anyone that came to mind.

She set the cap back on the hook, took the tape out of her backpack, and slipped the note in the locker, closing the door.

During the week she would purposely go out of her way to see if she could spot him opening the locker, but every time he didn't show or she had just missed him. She wondered if maybe it was all just a prank or maybe he had second thoughts about what he wrote.

At least she had assumed this until she stopped in the hall, seeing the locker door open. She couldn't see his face, covered by the locker door, he shuffled through the top shelf, placing a notebook in the black pack at his feet. She could see him slip the cap on his head, the hat facing backwards.

And then she saw what he took out of his locker. A black trench coat.

She then realized who her secret crush was. It all made sense now.

"I was in a class with you 1st semester, & was blessed w. being with you in a report."

They had gotten an A on that project.

"I am entranced during 5th period, as we both have it off."

She did remember seeing him walking around the school sometimes, or leaving at fifth hour in his BMW.

She walked up to him as the locker door closed, adjusting his dark duster, now revealing his face.

Thin face. long blond hair, and blue eyes. He was taking a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket wen he heard that voice.

"Dylan?" She asked, as he paused at hearing his name, and turned to face her.

She smiled, taking his left hand in hers, they just stared at each other, no words.

She still hadn't let go of his hand, as she now felt his fingers intertwine with hers.

"I'm here for you" She said, as if it now registered to him what was happening, he smiled. Dylan didn't think she would even keep the note, let alone send him a reply, but she had.

Somehow he didn't feel so sad right now.

"Hey!" They looked up and saw another boy in a black coat coming toward the. Dylan's friend Eric, she had seen them do their video productions together. "You coming man?" Eric asked, paying little attention to her.

But Dylan did look back at her, "I'll catch up later Reb," He said

He could see his friend shrugged and move past them toward the front entrance.

They went the opposite direction, wandering directionless as they made their way outside past the smoking area, still hand in hand.

April 20, 1999

On April 20th 1999, Eric Harris walked in to the school, killing twelve students, one teacher, and then shortly after himself in the library. As he went on his killing spree, she and Dylan Klebold had already vacated the school and were running away from the building outside.