Lockdown

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I bolted upright in bed, terrified. Somewhere outside lightning flashed, illuminating the window. Thunder roared in the distance. I just sat there in bed, sweat pouring like the rain pattering against the window, heart beating loud as the thunder. That’s when I heard it- voices. I scanned the room, and saw nothing. So I slid off my bed, grabbed my baseball bat and slipped on my helmet, and crept across the room. Now the voice was singing and had changed pitch. Music played in the background. Realizing my mistake, I slammed my fist down on my alarm clock’s OFF button, bringing an end to the voice. No need for the snooze- I’m already wide awake. I tossed my gear onto the bed and dragged myself downstairs. I collapsed on the couch and flicked on the TV, but I could hardly pay attention. The rest of the morning was insignificant.


“Hey, Mr. Peanut!” Fred called. That was my sorry excuse for a nickname- Mr. Peanut. Even Fred’s was better. He was good at getting out of tough situations, so everyone called him Houdini. Even Mitch “Mickey Mouse” Johansen was better off. Again, nothing eventful occurred until later. Fifth period, to be exact. I was in math class, watching Mr. Kenner solving an equation on the board when the announcement came over the loudspeaker. It was a lockdown, which essentially meant there was an active shooter (supposedly, anyway. Nothing had ever really happened, it was always just drills) and we all had to lock the door, turn off the lights and hide in a corner. So that’s what we all did. You’d think that the possibility of an active shooter would be enough to get everyone to execute the drill quietly. But still everyone was loud enough that any shooter would have to be pretty stupid to not hear us. Or deaf.

“Hey, shooter! Over here! Over here!” one kid shouted jokingly.

“Shut up!” Fred hissed back.

“Make me!”

“How about both of you shut up!” Mr. Kenner interrupted.

“Hey, Kenner!” the kid said.

“What?”

“Make me! Make me!”

“Listen to me: be quiet!” A new kid jumped up and pulled himself onto a desk. Then, he started dancing and screaming. I looked at Mr. Kenner. He was appalled. And then time seemed to freeze for a second. A gunshot exploded. The classroom screamed. And then the little window on the door shattered. The kid on the desk fell over, a red splotch already forming on his chest. A hand shot through the door. It reached down, undid the lock, then yanked back out. A large man (he had to have been at least six feet) forced his way through, training the gun on Mr. Kenner. He stared at the shooter, horrified, and flew towards the guy. Shots fired, and the shooter rose back to his feet.

“Oh, heck!” Fred whispered.

“Oh my god! Holy freakin’ cow!” the jokester kid cried. Kids were rushing everywhere now. Some were trying to push past the shooter, others to get to the window, and the rest just running around.


I bolted upright in bed, terrified. Somewhere outside lightning flashed, illuminating the window. Thunder roared in the distance. I just sat there in bed, sweat pouring like the rain pattering against the window, heart beating loud as the thunder. Then I heard my radio go of. For a second or two I thought someone was in my room. I hit the OFF button and made my way downstairs. Funny, though, this feels awfully familiar. Déjà vu, you know? Anyway, what happened from then to the point at which I got to school is pretty unimportant. My friend Fred hailed me to where we were standing, and we chatted a bit until the bell rang. Nothing else happened till math, fifth period. Odd enough, it felt like we had done what Mr. Kenner was doing on the board before, but he said it was all knew material. The feeling of déjà vu was strong then, and I began to remember the dream I had had. Lockdown, my brain told me. There’ll be an active shooter… The loudspeaker crackled to life and the principal urgently called a lockdown. The dream was really coming back to me now. Hey shooter! Over here! Over here! One kid’s going to shout to the shooter. “Hey shooter! Over here! Over here!” some kid shouted. Shut up. Fred’s going to tell the kid to shut up. To my horror, Fred did. Now I was mouthing every word anyone said. A kid leapt up onto a desk and started doing some kind of dance.

Then the window shattered.





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hannahbananasplit said...
Feb. 16, 2012 at 6:49 pm
I like the concept! What's cool is that you don't know what happens afterwars, after she wakes up, even though it's supposedly forewarned. So there's still an element of mystery.
 
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