Alrighty guys, this was a little experiment. I've been feeling the need to write lately, and I decided to experiment with 2nd person as well as short and choppy sentences. Its focused on Sasuke, by the way (if you couldn't tell!). I understand that the overall idea may be a bit confusing, so I'll give you the basic lowdown of what happens in this little drabble-Sasuke is actually in his class, taking a test, and there is a school shooting. Itachi is the gunman, and when he gains access into Sasuke's classroom he goes straight to his little brother...^-^ enjoy!
Lockdown (Just Pretend)
Pretend that it's 2:13 P.M. on a Thursday afternoon. The light in August is vivid and bright, and the air is musky and husky and autumn is a-coming. Imagine that you're at school (pretend that you've been here longer than you really have). You're in your English classroom, which also happens to be your homeroom. The teacher is Kakashi Hatake. He is very nice (just pretend...).
Don't remember.
Make believe that your English classroom has a wall made of glass-it is entirely a window. Now turn to face the back wall. The tattered old art projects of past years are tacked up on it. Pretend one of those art projects is yours. Doesn't it make you feel so much more important?
Look around, taste the relaxed, tranquil atmosphere. You know all of your classmates. They all know you. You all get along very well...
Pretend that your class is taking a test today. You know what you're doing. You've studied very hard. It's about a modernist novel that you and your fellow students had to read over the summer. You can hear the old, cheap clock ticking, and ticking, and tocking ticking tocking. You can't feel your teacher's lone eye boring into the back of your skull. You can't feel anything at all.
You're focusing much to hard on your test, and you know you need to take a short little break from it. You look up and gaze out of the classroom's window. Relax, its alright. Take deep breaths. Pretend that you see your very dear brother walking right by outside. He has milky white skin and lustrous black hair that shines a blue hue in the sunlight. He has passionate eyes and his fingers are long and elegant and slender. He is very pretty. Imagine that you're heart begins hammering sinfully in your chest. Don't forget to pretend that you have a heart in the first place! But you won't see him again for a very long time. This makes you very sad.
Pretend you hear the phone go riing-riiing-riiing. Kakashi-sensei's face as he picks up the phone should appear to be surprised, unsure, and frightened. He rushes towards the door of the classroom, and at that moment an unexpected announcement makes its way over the intercom. Everyone looks up from their tests. Pretend the voice isn't shaking as it announces a lockdown. You don't hear the announcement add that there is a lone shooter, and that the shooter has a set of keys to many of the classroom doors. Oh, pretend they didn't say lockdown! You remember and hope that you're safe in here.
None of your classmates know quite how to react. Make believe that you're better than them and that you're not panicking. You're not scared, you're not scared, you're not scared. Really! Your hands are gripping onto the edge of your desk and your knuckles are turning as white as the moon.
And that's when your teacher regains some of his sense and he begins giving instructions. He motions for everyone to get away from the wall-window, and commands you and your peers to get down and hide. Kakashi-sensei turns off the lights in the classroom before hiding behind and under his special teacher's desk. Maybe if the shooter doesn't look hard enough, maybe if he doesn't think deep enough, maybe you and the rest of your class will make it through this crisis fine. And maybe-
Pretend that your classmates aren't screaming. Try not to look at the classroom's door. Pretend that the lock isn't turning and that the door isn't opening slowly, and that you're all not about to die.
From the spot beneath your desk you see the shooter's feet . And they're moving towards you. The gunman bends over and looks straight at you from an almost equal vantage point. He smirks. The shooter is your pretty, pretty brother. You feel hands (beautifully textured pianist hands) grabbing into your hair. And you feel yourself being pulled into a half-standing position.
And you feel the cold, unforgiving metal of the gun barrel at the back of your neck.
And you can't help but to wish that you've been pretending all along.
Because all of those pretends in all of those sentences above are just excuses.
This little make-believe story of yours is true.
You're living in it.
Your body is in overdrive and your mind is in lockdown mode.
The sound of the gunshot and the feeling of dying is undeniably REAL.
^-^ how did I do? Reviews are my food and sustenance...feed the hungry authoress :3!