Beca awoke with a start. She had no idea where she was. She knew she was in danger. How long had she been out? Looking all around her, she tried to see if the threat was still there. Panic started to consume her body as she tried to take in her surroundings. A woman she didn't know soon entered her field of vision and soothingly spoke up.

"Shhh shhh shhh baby. It's okay. You're in the hospital." She put her hand on Beca's head. "Try to relax. You don't want to hurt yourself."

Beca's eyes darted around the room. She tried to lift herself into a sitting position, but was startled by a horrible burning pain in her right shoulder. She gasped and fell back to the bed. Tears welled up in her eyes and began to slide down her face. She hadn't ever felt such pain before. She glanced over at the nurse, who was writing something in a chart. Beca's mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Her throat burned. She scanned her body and saw a tube coming out of her arm that connected to an IV. She settled enough to take stock of the room. It was a normal recovery room: sterile and creepy. She tried to swallow and then croaked out, "Water?"

The nurse looked over sweetly and asked, "What was that honey?"

Beca cleared her throat a little and repeated. "Water? Can I have … some water?"

The nurse shook her head and grabbed a small foam cup from the side table. "Not yet, sweetie. You can have some ice chips." She brought the cup to Beca's mouth and allowed a couple of round ice pieces to slip in. "Take it slow. We have to make sure you can keep it down."

Beca allowed the ice to melt in her mouth and hesitantly swallowed. The liquid was a relief to her painful throat. The nurse smiled. "Did that help?" Beca nodded slightly. "Are you in pain?" Tears dripped from her eyes and she nodded again. The nurse frowned a bit. "It's time for some more pain medicine." She fiddled with the IV. "You'll probably sleep again soon."

Beca didn't want to sleep. She wanted to know what was going on. She fought a building sense of panic again. But she soon started to feel soothed. She thought about asking for some more ice, but she felt the pull of the darkness. She blinked and watched the nurse moving around. Then she closed her eyes and drifted off.

The next time Beca woke up, the room wasn't as empty as before. Through sleep blurred eyes, she saw several people moving around. She blinked a few times. The shadows turned towards her. She began to feel her heart race and she tried to scramble away. Again, the searing pain in her shoulder pulled her back to the bed. She closed her eyes and breathed heavily through her nose. She felt a hand stroking her hair. "You're okay. You're safe." When she opened her eyes and looked around, she realized the nurse was back. She smiled down and offered Beca a cup with ice in it. Beca nodded and slid a few into her mouth. She then scanned around the room and saw her mother and a doctor looking down at her with grim looks on their faces.

"Mom?"

Mrs Mitchell smiled weakly at Beca's scratchy question. She was sliding a charm around on her necklace. Back and forth. One of her ways to deal with nerves. The doctor cleared his throat.

"Hi Beca. I'm Doctor Hunt." He was middle-aged with black hair that white flecks looked to have recently begun to invade. He had on teal scrubs and a white coat. He was soft spoken and obviously concerned. "How you doing?"

Beca desperately tried to clear the fog in her mind. How am I doing? I'm in a hospital? I am scared and confused. She looked over at the pained look on her mom's face. She breathed out and weakly answered. "Fine, I guess. I mean … I don't know."

The doctor nodded sympathetically. "I'm sure you're probably confused and want to know what is going on. And we will get to that. Right now, though, you're also recovering from surgery. The pain medicine is what is making you groggy. But your body still needs that."

Beca looked at the doctor and then her mom and then the nurse and back again. She nodded. She was starting to feel a warm feeling all over again. She turned to see the nurse moving away from the IV. Beca laid her head back on her pillow. Tears drifted down from her eyes again as she knew she was about to slip away again.

Eventually Beca was alert enough to stay awake for more than a few minutes. She found herself in a bigger nicer room. A window looked out into a dark sky. There were a few chairs scattered around the room. Most of them had people in them. Dr. Hunt was talking to a … police officer? Beca saw her mom intensely talking to someone facing away from the bed. When Beca shifted, she let out a groan of pain. The man turned around with a worried look. "Dad?"

Beca's father strode over to the bed and took her hand. "Hey baby. I'm here." Tears again poured from her eyes as she studied his face. Her attention was broken by the police officer clearing his throat.

"Hi Beca. I'm Sheriff Boston. I know that this is all pretty chaotic and overwhelming." Beca nodded lightly. The inescapable blanket of fear and panic weighed her down. Her father tightly grasped her left hand. Her mom had drifted closer on the right side of the bed, still keeping some distance - sliding the charm back and forth on her necklace. "There's no easy way to do all of this, so we are just going to … do our best." The sheriff looked exhausted. He had deep bags under his eyes. His shoulders drooped as he held his hat in his hand.

For the next thirty minutes, the sheriff and the doctor took turns explaining what was going on - trying to give Beca some clarity. Her parents already knew most of the details, but this was a more organized way to present things and get everyone on the same page.

A student at Beca's school, a junior who had recently been thrown out of the band for a continuous disruptive behavior, had arrived at school right after lunch. He was armed with body armor, night vision goggles, two pistols, and two assault rifles. Having been in band, he knew that - while the exterior doors were supposed to be locked - sometimes students would prop one particular door open to make it easier to get from their cars to the music hall. The student came in through that door instead of the main entrance and headed to the band room. While the chorus teacher was on planning period, the band teacher was not. There was a full class practicing. The student began shooting into the room. The soundproofing in that room made it hard for the shots to be heard, so reaction was slower than it should have been in locking down the school. Twenty-four students had been shot in the band room, plus the teacher. Eight had already died; five more were in critical or serious condition. After spraying the band room with bullets, the student went back out into the hall to look for more victims. The initial shot that Beca heard had been the student firing at teachers who finally had been made aware of what was happening. The second shot had killed a coach; the third had killed a history teacher. The student had then gone into the bathroom to see if there were any students inside. He had just come out when Beca popped out of the chorus room. The bullet that hit Beca should have killed her, except it hit her headphones and diverted it just enough away from her carotid artery. Instead it went through her shoulder. As she fell, the gunman fired again and missed. The last shot she heard was a school resource office firing at the student. The gunman was struck in the back, which knocked him down and allowed him to be subdued. It was one of the worst school shootings in history.

The doctors were able to remove the bullet - and headphone - fragments during Beca's surgery. They also were able to repair the internal damage. She probably wouldn't need a followup procedure, but it was hard to know at the moment. There would be physical therapy needed to regain use of her arm and shoulder. Physically, Beca would most likely be fine - eventually. Emotionally, that was a different story. Beca tried to wrap her mind around all of what she just heard. Tears were come fast and hard. She was shaking as she sobbed, which hurt her injured shoulder. She had friends in that band room. She knew the teacher, had helped him on many occasions. She felt stupid for having come out of the chorus room. If she had stayed inside, she would have been fine. But the sheriff theorized that the gunman would have gone out the same door Beca was heading towards. If he had been able to exit, he may not have been caught. He also would have had free access to the athletic fields with several weapons still fully loaded. Beca's decision actually saved lives - not that she intended that at all. It was all too much. The doctor silently nodded to the nurse. The pain medicine allowed Beca a brief freedom from dealing with everything, as she fell asleep holding her dad's hand.