And Another Fell Down
All the other kids with
the pumped up kicks,
you better run -better run
Outrun my gun
X
She was huddled in the bathroom, knees cradled to her chest, squished between a stall and the cold wall next to her. Tears spilled over her beautiful pale face
The air was thick with tension and fear. It blanketed around her, enveloped her, encompasses her entire being.
She was scared. She was scared for her life. She was scared for everyone's life. There was a gunman in her school.
Gunman.
School.
Her school.
The sound of gunshot echoing through the school building -ripping through the air along with screams of panic and terror- rang in her ears on an endless loop. It seemed so real, as if it had happened again.
She wanted to cry.
She wanted to sob uncontrollably.
She wanted to let her screams and cries ring through the air.
Her chest tightened up in anxiety. Her stomach churned uncomfortably inside of her, her lunch threatening to make a return. Her breathing was restricted. She was hugging her knees so tightly to her chest her lungs were being constricted.
She knew that it was stupid. Hiding in a bathroom, alone. That would be the first place someone would look, but she was so scared; she was paralyzed with fear. Her feet refused to go anywhere. Her brain was a mess. It's like it had shut down in a moment of panic.
She had just asked to go to the bathroom because she'd had a full drink at lunch and her bladder was so desperate for release she would've peed her pants had she not gone to the bathroom.
It wasn't until she'd turned on the faucet to wash her hands that her ears picked up on the horrific noise.
Gunshot, a scream of pain, and then nothing.
Deadly silence.
It was as if the whole world had gone silent.
What was Laura to do? She cupped a hand over her mouth, her heart stung with fear and grief. Her shoulders became heavy. Her mind was racing so fast she couldn't keep up with it. The work was becoming nothing but static.
There were a lot of things a person never wanted to hear in their lives. Gunshot -the immediate cause of someone's untimely death- was one of those things for sure.
She dropped to her knees, her breathing was shallow and mechanical. She felt like she'd been the one who had been shot.
She was faced with two options: go into the hallway and try to make her way back to the classroom, with the risk of being the next victim, or stay there and hide in the bathroom, with the risk of being caught at such an obvious hiding spot.
The choice was made and Laura crawled to the corner. Her eyes were red-rimmed. She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her forehead on her knees.
Presently, Laura had to bit her lip to keep from crying out loud. Strands of hair were getting stuck to her sticky, wet cheeks. Snot was running down her nose, but she couldn't even sniffle; she couldn't do anything without fear of being caught.
She felt like she couldn't even breathe.
So she continued to sit. Wedged between a stall and a wall, knees cradled to her chest, snot dripping out of her nose, fear running coldly through her veins.
x
Ross could care less about school, and with only two months left of his senior year, he was counting down the days until it was all over with.
He was halfway through the day, Mr. Frasier's History Class to be exact (man, did he hate that class), he was fighting off sleep -stuck in that stage where you're drifting in and out of consciousness, almost in pain because its like you're fighting a battle with your body.
That was when he heard it.
A single gun shot.
It was so unreal that he thought he'd only imagined it at first.
But, unfortunately, he hadn't.
That definitely woke him up.
A bloodcurdling scream followed soon afterward. It was like time stopped altogether with. The other teens froze. Mr. Fraser -midway to the chalkboard about ready to jot down some notes on ancient Egypt- dropped the piece of chalk and stared blankly at the door. It was so quiet in that building that they could literally hear the chalk hit the floor. But no one was focused on the chalk.
"OH MY GOD!" Someone in the back (Ross was pretty sure her name was Sarah) screamed after what felt like an eternity and a half.
And then a chain reaction followed after that. Everyone began screaming and crying, mulling over the fact that someone just died and the possibility that it could be one of their friends, their boyfriend, their girlfriend, their sibling.
But it didn't matter who died, because two thing were certain.
1) someone had died
2) someone in the school had a gun
"Everyone just calm down," Mr. Frasier said. "Just... just calm down."
And surprisingly, the room was dead silent again.
Ross couldn't help but notice how hard Mr. Frasier was trying to keep up the act, and how badly he was failing at it. The man wasn't fooling anyone, he was scared shitless and he had no idea what to do.
"Ross, lock the door," the teacher demanded. Ross obliged, locking the door and sitting back down at his seat.
"Wait!" A curly-haired brunette stood up from her seat with a look of grief and panic etched across her face.
"Ms. Rodriguez please sit down-"
"Where's Laura?!"
"Ms. Rodriguez-"
"Where is she?! Where is my best friend?! Where is she?!" Her voice broke. It went from a horrific scream to a hoarse whisper. Her eyes spilled with tears, she began to hiccup and sob.
"Raini," Mr. Frasier's demanding tone was now soft and gentle, understanding and compassionate, "please take your seat."
The girl sat down, but she kept mumbling the same words over and over again to herself. "Where is she? Where is Laura? Where is she? Where is Laura?"
Ross turned in his seat, observing all of the desks in the classroom. All of them were occupied, save for one; the one in the very back, third from the left. On top of the desk were two items; a notebook and a copy of Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice'. On the cover of the notebook -one word, written in loopy, cursive handwriting: LAURA.
Ross's stomach plummeted deep down in the depths of himself.
His entire body deflated a little after that, like a sadness had washed over him.
He was worried about this girl.
And he had no idea why.
x
She wasn't sure what time it was. From the position she was in she couldn't see the clock and she sure as hell wasn't going to move to get a glimpse at it.
It felt like it had not been five minutes since she'd heard the gun shot, and at the same time, it felt like she'd been sitting there an entire lifetime.
Her tears had dried up, but the fear hadn't shied away. She stood (well sat) alert, on edge, senses heightened. Her heart was beating rapidly against her ribcage. Her stomach was contorted into all kinds of painful knots.
Her mind went back to that morning, in the kitchen on the phone with her mom who was currently in another state.
"I can't wait to see you this weekend mom!" Her always cheery voice was particularly chirpy that morning. Her smile was big and bright. She missed her mom so much -she'd been gone for almost two months- and she was counting down the mere hours until she'd be able to hug the life out of the woman.
"I can't wait to see you either, sweetheart. Only three more days. Sixty-two-"
She cut her mother off, "Sixty-two hours. Thirty-nine minutes. Twenty-seven seconds." Laura couldn't keep the smile off her face. "Twenty-six, twenty-five, twenty-four..."
Her mother chuckled, and even though Laura couldn't see it, she just knew her mom was smiling and shaking her head at her daughter's silliness. Like she always did.
"Laura, I have to go. Tell your father I love and miss him too and I can't wait to see both of my loves in just a few days."
She swallowed hard, not wanting to get off the phone with her mother just yet. Subconsciously, her hand gripped the phone tighter, almost desperate.
"Laura?"
"I love you, mom." Her heart swelled. Her eyes stung.
"I love you too, honey.
"Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
Two seconds and a resounding click rung in her ear. The line went dead. Soon it would begin beeping annoyingly, telling Laura that the conversation was over. Her mother had hung up. She sighed and clicked the 'end' button on her phone.
"Sixty-two hours. Thirty-seven minutes. Fifteen seconds," she whispers ghostly to herself.
Fourteen...
Thirteen...
Twelve...
"Laura!" Her dad's strong voice came from downstairs. "It's time for school! Come on, I'll drive you!"
She nodded her head. It wouldn't be much longer. She had to remind herself of that. She hadn't noticed a tear slid down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly.
Then went downstairs.
To go to school.
Laura shook her head.
No, she wouldn't accept it.
That morning wouldn't be the last time she would hear her mother's voice. Or anyone's for that matter. She was coming out of this mess alive.
At least she prayed to God she would.
x
Ross couldn't help himself. He was just, by nature, a bundle of nerves. His foot bounced up and down in rapid succession. He kept crossing his legs over each other. Then uncrossing and crossing the others.
Crossing and uncrossing.
Crossing and uncrossing.
He ran his hands over his face, frustrated. He ran his fingers through the soft golden hair under his beanie. He knew there was a fucking gunman somewhere in the school, but dear god he had been sitting -just sitting- in that same damn uncomfortable plastic chair for almost two hours and he couldn't take much more of this.
The room was quiet. The lights had been turned off. A make-shift barricade had been constructed right in front of the door, which was just a few chairs and Mr. Frasier's desk. It was a shitty barricade, but they pretended to be none the wiser. They just need something, something to distract their fear and make then feel like there was even a little bit of safety.
He noticed, even in the dark, a girl in the back (her name escaped him at the moment) with her eyes shut, hands folded, head bowed, and her lips were moving -like she was speaking to someone who wasn't there.
He noticed a few other students praying as well.
Because in the toughest of time, even the most unreligious of people pray to anyone listening that they outlast the storm.
He raised his hand. It shook slightly, but he pretended he didn't notice that.
"Yes, Ross." Mr. Frasier said when the blond had finally caught his attention.
"Can I go to the bathroom?"
Saying it out loud, he had to admit it sounded completely stupid. He heard a few people laugh (in vain of coarse because this was hardly the time for laughter) and his cheeks burned in embarrassment from the look his teacher was giving him.
"No, Ross, you may not."
"Please, dammit!" Ross shouted at his teacher. Then, this time in a pleading whisper, he repeated, "please."
"Ross, you know as well as I do that I can't let you leave this room right now."
Ross groaned. It sounded pained and almost inhuman. He barely even recognized himself right now. He was going crazy. What was real? What was just his mind playing tricks on him? He felt like he was tripping out. Was he on drugs? His mom had started painting the house last week. Maybe he was high on paint fumes.
Mr. Frasier notices the frazzled looking teen. He felt sorry for him, and under any other circumstances, he'd would let him. The shaking hands, his bouncing foot, the sounds of displeasure emitting from the boy.
"Ross," he started, his tone inquisitive yet hesitant, "did you- did you take your pills this morning?"
Ross's hand stopped shaking. His foot ceased. His entire demeanor changed at the drop of a hat.
"I- I... um.."
He felt every single pair of eyes land on him in that moment. Everyone prying into his personal life.
Did he take his pills that morning?
No.
Why?
Because he fucking doesn't need them.
His ADHD doesn't define him.
He doesn't need pills to combat his so called "problems".
Because he thought the toilet would fancy them more than he would.
"No," he muttered and slumped back in his seat, "no I didn't."
His foot bounced.
His mind raced.
His fingers tapped against the hardwood of the desk.
'I'm going crazy,' he thought in the midst of stark silence. 'Dammit, I can't take this anymore!'
X
Laura Marano wasn't a coward. Though most people knew her as an introvert. She didn't talk to many people. She never made eye contact. She always sat at the back of her classes. She never raised her hand or spoke in class. She was a petite girl, small stature and short. Damn she was short. Her dad had always called her his 'little hobbit' when she was a kid and people were constantly making comments regarding her height.
But that girl was 5'4" of pure courage. She was braver than most. And she observant.
So when she spotted the lead pipe -laying forgotten by the janitor who had been fixing the sinks that morning- she quickly formulated a plan.
Laura, for the first time in a three hour period, moved away from her hiding spot and dashed for the pipe. Laura lunged froward, and she grabbed it, falling down on the floor when she did. Laura panted heavily from her adrenaline rush. Her lips quirked upward in a triumphant smile. She held the pipe close to her figure. Victory was hers.
Now she had a weapon. A weapon and a plan. Granted, it wasn't a gun, it was only good at close range whereas a gun was not, but it was better than going out into the hallway unarmed.
She timidly sat up, reluctant and anxious. She swallowed hard. Her small hands gripped the weapon with such inhuman force that her knuckles went white.
Laura licked her dry lips. She steadied herself. The first step she took -the first one she'd taken in the past few hours- was shaky and she wavered a little, almost falling over and collapsing.
But she stood firm, refusing to fall. She was not a scared little girl. She would not hide in the corner and cry any longer.
One step at a time, Laura made her way to the hallway. She surveyed her surroundings. Looking left. Looking right.
The coast was clear.
The took one step in what she hoped was the right direction. Her mind was a soupy mess at the moment, but she had to will herself to remember the way back to her classroom.
She was so close.
Just about to take another step.
Then she heard footsteps. Footsteps coming closer to her with every passing moment.
She stood there, dazed. She tightened her fingers around the lead pipe and held it up like a baseball player would hold a bat.
She couldn't run and she couldn't hide.
She could only fight.
X
Ross had done it.
He'd done it alright.
Know he knew how zoo animals felt, being locked up in a cage ad not able to be let out.
But every now and then zoo animals escaped.
And escaped Ross had.
It came down to the point where she couldn't handle it anymore. He had to get out of there. He had to get out of that damn classroom.
This time he didn't ask to go to the bathroom.
He didn't ask at all.
He shot up out of seat. He pushed the desk and chairs out of his way; the went clattering to the side, and after unlocking it, he threw himself out the door relishing in the sweet taste of freedom.
But that feeling was short lived.
"Ross!" He felt a strong hand clamp down on his shoulder. "Ross, get back in here! Are you trying to kill us all?!"
Only he wasn't speaking to Ross anymore. He was speaking to a monster that had taken over Ross's mind and body.
Ross pushed his teacher away. He threw him back into his own desk.
Ross glared at his teacher. His teacher stared back at, unbelieving. He didn't recognize the kid standing in front of him.
"Ross, don't," he whispered hoarsely to the teen.
Ross didn't head his warning though. He bolted out the door and down the hallway. He kept running; running away, running as far as he could get.
His heavy footsteps reverberated back to his ears. The world rushed around him in a blur. Ross smashed into a locker, but it didn't phase him. He rebounded and ended up colliding with another locker.
He slid his back down the cool metal of the locker door. His head hit the locker and he shut his eyes tightly. He wanted to stop time. Even if only for a moment. He wanted a moment of peace to bring himself down to earth. For Ross was floating high into space and he was afraid he wouldn't be able to get back down.
He blinked.
The wall in front of him was moving and shifting right before his very eyes.
His head hurt. His veins pulsed beneath his skin.
He shut his eyes and counted to ten.
"One... Two.. Three... Four... Five... Six... Seven... Eight... Nine... Ten..."
He blinked.
The world was still whirling around him. A big blob of shapes and colors. For a moment it was one thing and then in a second it transformed into something else. Nothing held his attention for long. It all just kept moving and shifting. Nothing held his attention for long.
He quickly scrambled to his feet. He couldn't stay there for much longer for fear of being caught and dragged back to that damn classroom.
He began running again. He went right and then left, zooming down hallways just to get them off his track.
One...
Two...
Three...
Four...
Five...
Ross stopped short, his breath hitched. He bent over and rested his hands on his knees, panting loudly and painfully.
Six...
Ross looked up, not expecting to see a pair of brown eyes staring back at him.
Seven...
The brunette girl stood her ground in front of him, weapon raised to her side. She bit her lip, close to piercing the skin and drawing blood.
Ross observed her under a careful eye. She was short and wearing an oversized sweater, snug-fitting jeans, and slip on shoes. Her hair was a knotted mess, tendrils stuck to the sickly pale skin on her forehead. Her eyes were huge, illuminating her fear. Her face was beautiful.
Ross had to ask himself one question: was this how he was going to die, at the hands of a beautiful young woman?
"Aren't you going to shoot me?" She said, her gaze was unbroken, her expression blank.
"I... I don't have a gun..." He answered truthfully. At least she had a weapon however pathetic it may have been. He was unarmed. He was screwed.
"Don't lie to me!" She screamed. Laura was quick on her feet. She ran toward the blond at a high-speed pace, yielding her weapon.
"Woah, woah, what the fu-"
Ross couldn't get his sentence out before she hit him in the head with her pipe. He fell back down the floor and Laura got on top of him, smashing him in head over and over again, screaming as she did so.
"Stop! Stop! STOP!"
Ross grabbed her weapon. He ripped it out of her hands. They both froze, looking at each other, breathing heavily.
He tossed the lead pipe to the side and lay back down on the cold floor, feeling tired.
Laura got off of him. She was shaking. She shut her eyes, hoping this was all just a dream.
"Shit," he ran his hand over his temple, feeling a nice bump forming, "you got me good."
She shook her head and began to cry. "No," she whispered. She looked down at her tiny hands and shook her head. How could she do that? How was she capable of doing that? She had just attacked someone.
"No!" She screamed in agony. "No!"
Laura dropped to her knees and wept. She kept whispering to herself. "No... No... No..."
Eight...
Behind them, they heard one sound that made their stomachs drop in fear.
Footsteps.
Laura remained optimistic. 'Its the police,' she thought. 'Or a teacher. We're gonna be okay. Someone's gonna save us. Someone's gonna save me.'
Laura got up off the floor and turned around. Her smile soon faded.
It wasn't the police.
And it wasn't a teacher.
The boy looked just as scared as Ross and Laura were. His eyes were wild with dilated pupils. His shaggy brown hair feel into his face, cloaking his bright blue eyes. He looked gazes with Laura.
She bit her lip and closed her eyes. She wanted this to be a dream so bad that it hurt.
When she opened her eyes again, she didn't see the scared boy. Instead, she saw a gun pointed at her face.
"Please don't shoot me," she pleaded, desperately. Tears trickled down her cheeks. "Please. Please don't shoot me."
The gunman held his weapon with a shaky grip. He shook his head. "I have to. You know it's me. I have to kill you. You know I'm the one."
"I won't say anything. I swear, I'll keep quiet. Please don't shoot. Please don't shoot me," she shut her eyes tightly. She was choking on a lump in her throat.
The boy flipped his hair out of his eyes. He ran his tongue over dry lips and cleared his throat.
Nine...
Ross say everything unfold right in front of him. He knew he needed to do something.
Ross pushed himself up to his feet. He went to run in front of the girl just as the boy went to pull the trigger.
Bang!
The second shot echoed thought the school to fall on the ears of fearful students.
The gun fell to the floor. The boy bolted out of there.
A lifeless body fell to the floor.
Someone screamed.
A clatter of footsteps came down the hallway.
Ten...
To be continued...