“We are going into lockdown,” Mrs. Jones announced over the intercom. I was startled slightly to hear her voice, and it took me a moment to comprehend what she was saying. “I repeat, we are going into a lockdown.” I noticed the slight shake to her voice when she spoke. She was scared, probably very. She had to give the horrendous news about a lockdown, a real lockdown. Some intruder was in our school, and there was nothing she could do about it except announce to the entire school- where the invader was probably making his or her way.

I looked to Mrs. Williams, where she stood at the front of the room. She was staring out at all of us, her face turning ashen as the blood drained out of it. That was another clue, that this was a real thing. This wasn’t a drill they did every once in a while, this was real. Someone had come into the school and appeared to want to hurt the people in it.

The realization that both my teacher and principal were scared sent my muscles into action. I pushed out of my chair quickly, standing up and then settling down into the designated corner of the room, where our drills had taken place all those times at the beginning of the year. No one followed me, but as I sat down, Mrs. Williams’ blue eyes met mine and she immediately started to herd over the rest of the class.

Half of the class obeyed her orders without a second thought, it was evident how anxious she was. The other half- which consisted mostly of boys who took nothing seriously- pilfered their time, cracking jokes and laughing as they made their way across the extent of the room. They didn’t understand the danger they were in.

“Scott, Chase, get over here,” Mrs. Williams snapped, but the group only gave her innocent looks, as if they had done nothing wrong.

I could hear people whispering around me, but I didn’t look up from the nails I was suddenly so interested in. When I was distracted, I always had a habit of picking at the tips until they were no longer existent. It’s not that I was distracted now, I just found my mind to be completely blank of everything and the impending danger.

One of my best friends- Ellie- shook beside me, and I put my arm around her to try and ease her nerves. I felt her move her head to glance up at me, but I didn’t meet her eyes. Instead, I found the familiar green eyes of my ex-boyfriend and locked my gaze on his. He was smiling at me, but I didn’t return it. I wasn’t in the mood to joke, this was actually happening, it wasn’t a joke. His smile dipped until it was completely gone, and he just stared at me.

“Be quiet,” I found myself saying, surprised at the authoritative tone I had and how loud I was. I was never the loudest person in the bunch, always the most soft-spoken. “This is real, if you haven’t noticed. This isn’t a drill.”

The students around me replied with scoffs or comebacks they thought were good- “Who died and made you queen?” was a popular one- but I didn’t give into the temptation to tell them off. I sensed someone’s eyes on me and turned to see my teacher’s eyes focused on me. Instead of scolding me for talking like I thought she would, she just flashed me a grateful glance and then stared straight ahead at the door to the classroom.

The first shot was fired about seven minutes after I announced that it wasn’t a drill.

I could tell it was in the school, but I couldn’t say where. As if on instinct, everyone instantly quieted down and squeezed closer together. Ellie buried her face into my shoulder, moistening my black t-shirt with her tears. I knew she was scared, not only for herself, but also for her brothers in the ninth grade, just two halls away from us. My ex-boyfriend- Dylan- scooted closer and then embraced me, for which I was grateful. I buried my face into his shoulder, finding his familiar scent of Dawn laundry detergent comforting. I watched the faces of my friends from my new position and noticed everyone was either crying or at the point of tears.

Shots kept firing.

At this, my classmates began to openly sob, but somehow managed to remember to keep their hands over their mouths, trying to keep quiet. Dylan tightened his arm around me, and I snuggled in close to him, bringing Ellie with me. She was massively shaking now, every part of her body shuddering with sobs and pent up tears.

“We’re going to be fine,” I told Ellie, barely audible. I didn’t even know if she heard me or not, but I didn’t care. I knew Dylan had heard me, and the people close enough to hear did as well. The five words encouraged small smiles of hope from my friends, and that made me happy that they hadn’t lost hope when all seemed to be hopeless.

A door slammed near us, a familiar sound. Through the wall, we always heard that sound. The intruder was in the wing.

More shots.

We huddled closer together, as if we were part of the football team instead of just a group of 17 kids who were scared for their lives. My face connected with Dylan’s shoulder again, only this time it wasn’t of my own accord. He’d squashed me to him, but I broke away from him, wanting to see the rest of my friends. The first gaze I met was one of my oldest friends.

“I’m sorry,” Scott mouthed. I knew he was talking about all the hard times we’d had throughout the years. I was sorry for that, too, but I couldn’t make myself say it back to him. I had forgiven him long ago, but now when it actually mattered, I had no words. I managed to give him a little nod, and he smiled at me, sweetness and sadness mixed together as one.

Dylan pulled me closer to him, rotating his head towards me. I didn’t know what he was going to say, we were pretty good friends after the breakup. Nothing he could say to me would hate him or love him, he was one of my closest friends.

“I love you,” he whispered to me. Of all the things I could’ve gotten frightened over, it was that. A boy whispering his love for me. Of course I’d get scared over a guy liking me, but not a gunman. Of course. I couldn’t say anything in response to him, so I just nodded, meeting Scott’s familiar brown eyes. He stared back calmly, and it pained me to see his acceptance of everything that was going to happen. He was ready, but I didn’t want him to be ready.

None of us were ready for this. We were all barely 16 years old, we’d lived only half a life. Not even. We shouldn’t have to face this end of our lives like this, come to terms with it. We had years to live, but it was going to be cut short. All because of one person, who thought they could go into a school and just start shooting people. Just one person. One person made all the difference.

I looked up when I heard a jingle. Everyone’s heads seemed to gravitate that way, as if pulled by an unknown force. Time seemed to slow, and it felt like I was witnessing everything through someone else’s eyes.

The doorknob turned, and soon the room was filled with shots.

I watched as my friends’ bodies started to slump against mine, awaiting my turn to feel the bullet go straight through my heart. Scott’s body went down, a spot of red spreading on his neon Under Armour sweatshirt. A dark blot appeared on Ellie’s black sweater. Dylan’s white t-shirt stained with crimson. I fell to the cold, tiled floor beneath their combined weight, anticipating the feel of my life leaving my body. I waited and I waited, but I never got the release. Instead, I heard the door slam shut.

He left.

I was still alive.

I survived.

******

More shots were fired as I laid frozen beneath my friends, hardly daring to breathe. My ears rang at every sound, at every gunshot, the events of the last ten minutes still repeating in my head. Their eyes draining of light, of life. Once shining, now dull.

I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry. I love you.

My last memories of them.

I was aware of people running up and down the hallways, chasing the unknown. I should call to them, I knew, they were the police, they would help. But my voice wasn’t working, and I couldn’t say I wanted it to.

I didn’t know how long it was before I finally got up, maybe ten seconds, maybe ten minutes, maybe an hour. I leaned down, giving the boy who loved me one last kiss on his cold lips. The end of the period bell sounded, and I half-expected kids to come running from the classrooms to their lockers, buzzing happily about lunch.

But they didn’t.

I walked slowly, balancing precariously on each foot, hoping I wouldn’t collapse and start crying, like I wanted to. Everyone was gone. Everyone.

Ellie.

Scott.

Dylan.

All gone, every single one of them.

I had made it maybe ten feet down the hall when I heard a soft click behind me. I spun slowly on my heel, wary to see who was there. A brown haired boy was quietly shutting a classroom door about twenty feet away, careful not wake the dead around him. When he turned to start my way, he stopped and stared.

Derek.

He was alive.

My feet took me down the hall faster than a cheetah’s speckled paws. I didn’t care if I hadn’t talked to him in almost a year, I didn’t care if things weren’t right between us. I didn’t care what had happened between us, I just cared that I wasn’t alone and one of my best friends had survived.

When I stood in front of him, I basically jumped on him. He caught my tackle in stride, though, and held me close to him. I buried my face into the crook of his neck, convinced for a moment that while I was in his embrace, I was safe, protected.

“Did-Did anyone..?” finally came his voice, soft and apprehensive. I felt the tears finally begin to pool in my eyes and then eventually flow in rivulets down my cheeks. Scott was his best friend, and I’d watched the life fade from his sapphire eyes. How could I tell him that? How could I tell him I watched and waited, but by some miracle managed to survive?

“I only saw you,” I replied, sniffling and unable to say any more. He nodded sedately, then tilted my face up so he could meet my hazel eyes with his.

“At least you…” he trailed off, staring into my eyes with emotion I couldn’t read. It’d been so long since we had a real conversation, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking anymore. His thoughts were a closed book to me, but I was sure he was just as happy I’d survived as I was about him surviving. “I don’t think I could live without you.”

The tears started streaming down his face as well, and when he bent down and kissed me, I was aware of only two things- the taste of his lips on mine that I’d missed so much and how the taste of Dylan’s cold lips was now gone. I felt myself cry even harder into the kiss then, finally breaking down in front of him. He released me but looped his arm around my waist, beginning to steer us down the hall. I couldn’t see and I didn’t think Derek could either, but somehow we made it to the lobby, to the entrance doors of the building.

I kept my eyes forward as we walked through the doors, the police cruisers greeting us with their multicolored flashing lights. Derek lowered his hand into mine as we made our way out of the unnaturally quiet school.