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Mr. Wager Has Entered the Building
Who’s Mr. Wager? I thought.
“Everyone go to that corner of the room and stay as close to the wall as you can.” Mr. Madison said as he shut the lights and locked the door.
I did what he said as fast as I could while all the other students came at their own snail pace, though the situation was clearly urgent.
I got the sense that we were supposed to be quiet from Mr. Madison's consistent shushing but there was still whispering and giggling.
After a few moments of “silence” I finally asked one of the students who’d gone to public school her entire life and, so, was familiar with everything that happened here, “What’s going on?”
“It’s a lockdown.” She said rolling her eyes.
“How are you sure?”
“‘Mr. Major’s’ here, duh.” To avoid talking to me any longer, she started whispering to one of her friends. I didn't know a Mr. Major but I knew what a lockdown was.
I slid onto the floor and used the wall for support. This wasn’t how I wanted to spend my last minutes. In school. In a desk. Nowhere near my family. As cliché as it is, there were still so many things I had to do. Publish my book. Meet someone famous. Become famous. I hadn’t had the time to do half of it because I had school all the time and now, being at school would be the reason I died? That had to be pretty close to the most depressing thing in the world. Right next to a bunch of teenagers playing around while their death could be seconds away. Like it was a joke.
How could they take it so lightly? There was some trigger-happy guy in the school who could come charging into this room at any moment, and they were talking and joking. Weren’t they afraid, he’d hear them and come in?
I took out my cell phone and started typing a letter to my family. When I finished, I made a list of the things I wish I could’ve done; maybe my little sister would do them for me.
The other students continued talking. They glanced at me a few times; probably thinking I was a freak not appreciating how much class we were missing...this was the class I’d made the least friends in.
When I neared the completion of the list, someone on the loudspeaker announced, “the drill is over. Good job, everyone.” Drill? Why had nobody told me this was a drill? “Now,” the woman continued, “Everyone-” there was loud bang and silence on the other end of the microphone. No one in that class looked at me like I was strange, again.