11:00am
Our 'guard' stomped into the over filled classroom, another two guys followed him in. One made sure to lock the door before he walked slowly behind the other guy into the middle of the room.
Bailey and I were sitting at a desk, like we had been since we'd gotten here.
I was angry, scared, worried and a little confused. I didn't know why we were here. I was hungry, tired and needed t use the bathroom yet again. A couple of times as I drifted in and out of sleep I wondered whether this was real. And sometimes I silently begged them to kill me, just to get me out of here.
Bailey sat with his chin in his hand, staring at the clock on the wall. Probably thinking the same as me, this will all end soon. Maybe.
"We know one of you called the cops! Who was it?" I drifted back into thoughts and realization as our 'guard' Harry yelled at us. He turned to a boy sitting at a desk closest to him when no one moved.
"It was you! Wasn't it? Admit it and I won't kill you," he teased, a smile playing at his lips. I was digusted at all this but as people got tormented and were dragged out of the room screaming I couldn't help but watch. None of us could.
I was feeling light-headed, all I'd had to eat in the last twenty-four hours was half a chocolate bar. I rubbed my forhead with my palms, hoping to somehow magically wake myself up more.
There was a screeching on the ground as someone pushed a chair backwards. I turned to see who it was but all I found was Bailey's ass in my face. It was him. He was standing up. I looked up at his face and I remembered all the times I reminded myself not to mess with him when he had this look on his face. Boy was he angry.
"Why are you doing this?" he yelled, "Just stop it, will you! You're driving us all fucking crazy! We just wanna get outta here! Please, stop it! Why are you doing this?" he yelled, once or twice banging his fist on the table. The room was silent as we held our breath and waited for a reply from either of them.
Harry turned away from the boy he had been questioning and took a step towards the desk we were sitting at.
"Why are we doing this?" he asked, "I don't know. For fun," he said, pretending to really think about the question.
"Why can't you just end it? Stop it! Please!" Bailey yelled back at him and his voice cracked. He was on the edge of tears. Harry kept that look on his face, the fake 'I'm thinking' look. Then his face fell blank.
"I guess we could end this all. It really is a waste, huh? Killing all these kids for no reason. Alright, we'll end this. We'll all go right outside now and 'fess up," with that he pulled his gun out of his pocket and pointed it towards Bailey. My immediate reaction was to jump away which was just what I did. I stood up in half a second and pushed my chair backwards, sending it crashing to the ground.
Harry chuckled and lowered the gun to his side.
"Let's go," he said to the two other guys. They quickly walked back to the door, unlocking it and waiting in the hallway as Harry took one last look at us from the front of the room.
Bailey and I were still standing up and my heart was beating a million per minute. I could barely breathe properly anymore.
Before I could even realize he was raising his gun Harry shot it. But I somehow turned around just in time to see Bailey fall to the floor. A tiny hole in his chest, already pouring with blood. My breath got caught in my throat as his limp body hit the ground. I just stared at him, my legs frozen. No, this was not happening.
"No. . .I. . .Why is he. . .," I was saying nothing, whimpering to myself. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him as they filled with tears and a few kids rushed to him to try and help. But even though I couldn't think straight exactly I knew there was no way of helping him. If we called the ambulance we'd all be killed. If we tried to leave the room to get help we'd all be killed. There was nothing we could do.
"No! No!" Fuck!" I heard myself yell but I didn't think it was me. I fell to my kness on the floor and crumpled into a ball. I cried, loud and hard. I felt someone's hand on my shoulder but I ignored it. He's dead! He's dead! No! "Fuck!" I yelled again. "No! Help him!" I yelled to no one. I suddenly rolled over and sat up properly. The brown haired guy who was trying to comfort me stared at me. I stared back at him for a few seconds before I raised my hands to my head and started pulling at my hair. Sometimes rubbing my head, sometimes pulling on my hair.
"No. No. No. No. Not happening. This is not real!"
"It'll be okay," the guy said to me. I slightly recognized him but I didn't know him. I stared at him through blurry eyes, trying to believe him, "It'll all be over soon. I'm sorry," he said, reaching out to again put his hand on my shoulder. I rolled back over, onto the ground in a ball and continued whimpering to myself. It'll all be over soon. It's not real. It's not real.