The Devil's Game | Teen Ink

The Devil's Game

November 15, 2018
By AlexaDiamant PLATINUM, South Plainfield, New Jersey
AlexaDiamant PLATINUM, South Plainfield, New Jersey
41 articles 3 photos 11 comments

Favorite Quote:
Don't you worry your pretty little mind, people throw rocks at things that shine.

I’m gonna make it.

I’m gonna make it.

I’m gonna die.

I’m gonna die.

I tried running as fast as I could,

but bullets fly faster than a Peregrine Falcon.

If I could run faster I would,

but I can’t breathe any harder than I already am.

So many kids lay lifeless on the floor

there’s one, two, three, and more.

Hot tears scrape my face

there isn’t much left of this learning place.

Screams from in the distance and my heart beating wild,

I can’t be known as the girl who died as a child.



But not good enough.

People who are supposed to ensure our safety,

have been eliminated and that’s over eighty.

He’s catching up and my chest is exploding

how long will it be until I’m in a hospital coding?

The halls are filled with sparks and smoke

this is no fake lockdown or a playground joke.

People are falling faster than my tears

this will be on the news for a couple of years.

It’s times like these where you’re overturned by your words

‘I would hide or take him down’ are no longer key words.

You forget about everyone and you fend for yourself

even your best friend would run and save themself.



I hear the sound of a gun

BANG! The barrel pushes out its kamikaze

SHOOT! Will go the cameras of the paparazzi.

As I drop everything is in slow motion

For a second everything is as calm as the ocean.

Now I know what they mean by ‘your life flashes before your eyes’

you don’t just look through your past, you also relive the shrieks and cries.

I try to tell myself that the light I see is coming from the ceiling

but the pain from the puncture no longer leaves me squealing.

I doze off into what seems like death

hoping I never have another last breath.

I remember my family, my friends, and teachers

and I remember the cold of the hard metal bleachers.



From my bed years later

You never forget the things you’ve seen

You can’t even wipe your memory clean.

You’ll never forget the day of your school shooting

and you’ll never forget the noise of everyone he was executing.

I am a survivor.

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