Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
One continuous bell. What does that mean again? Three is a tornado. Two bells means we need to evacuate the premises. What does one bell mean? There's only one thing it could be lockdown. Shit.
People panic. Backpacks and books are thrown toward the corner of the room and doors are closed and locked. The lights go out and bodies rush to the wall unseen by the doors and windows.
"Get back toward the wall, sit on the countertops if you must." whispers our English teacher. Her voice is stern, but her eyes are concerned. Students silently prop their bodies up onto the counters as everyone on the ground inches closer toward the wall.
The room is silent, as is the whole school. Everyone's hiding behind closed doors, hiding from a monster that thirsts for blood. I admit, I am as concerned as my professor. The silence lasts for a few minutes until the slapping of sneakers echoes through the hall. The footsteps are anxious and worried, and they stop close to our door as soon as rapturous knocking begins.
Our teacher ignores the guests, standard protocol. However the visitors are persistent, and they state their names between tears and outcries of hopelessness. Our teacher moves from the door and lets them in, and they are a lot more terrified looking than I though. They are kids I know. One kid is from my biology class, the other is in the same grade as I am. The teacher doesn't ask questions, she just pushes them out of sight of the door and continues to stand watch.
The girl student whispers of how she heard gunshots while she was in the bathroom and she ran for help. She keeps her voice low, trying to stay quiet for our safety. Even when she falls silent, out of words, her lungs demand to breathe in more air, and they wheeze between breathes.
Then we hear something. A noise that is so familiar rings out from the end of the hallway, and it is followed with another sound that verifies our guesses. Shotgun shells hit the tiled floor, and the sound is so loud compared to everything else.