The Gunman

A bang. A pop. A explosion. Whatever you choose to call it, made its way through a school, changing lives in an instant. A gunman had made his way to the shool, done with the years of torture and bullying. It was his time to make a statement. This story follows many different perspectives of the shooting going from parents, to victims, to survivors, and even to the shooter himself. Read the feelings of people trying to escape.


4. Anna

It was my free period when the first gunshot vibrated through the building. I was on my way to my locker, to get my study supplies when the startling noise made my knees buckle in shock. At first, I couldn’t tell what the noise was; I thought someone might have just dropped something big. However, then the announcement came on.

            The second the principal’s voice cut off, mid-sentence, I reached towards my jean pocket for my phone. It wasn’t there. I searched frantically, until I remembered I had it in my back pack. Which was shoved away in my locker, still two long hallways away from where I stood. I slowly edged down the open hallway, shaking every step of the way. There was no place to hide, and shudders coursed through my body.

            Then, the noise of several gun shots in a row, followed by hollow thuds of something hitting the ground. That wasn’t even the worst part. The part that got me the most was the fact that it was coming right from the room I was about to walk by. The only room in the whole hallway with its door wide open. I was about to run down the hallway when the firing ceased. If I had run right then, my footsteps could have been heard by the gunman, and he could have shot me down half way down the vast hall. My second instinct, after running, was to hide. But hide where? There was nowhere to go but down the hallway, and I would have never made that. My eyes skimmed the lockers, searching for anything that could help me escape. Tears of fear came to my eyes when I heard his footsteps coming. A squeak of relief escaped my mouth as I found a locker, barely open, but open just enough for me to see it.

            The locker was about a yard away, and I had to tip toe quietly, but fast. Every step I took seemed to make the loudest noise to me, but he hadn’t heard so I kept going.

            When I reached the locker, I pulled it open slowly. It made a small creaking noise and I inwardly gasped. It seemed like an eternity as I stood there, convinced I was going to die. All I could think was, “He must have heard that! He’s going to kill me.” All the things I would never be able to do flashed through my mind in that fraction of a second.

            I would never get married, have kids. I’d never buy my own house, get my own car, or even learn to drive! The husky I dreamed of getting one day would never happen. I’d never become a teacher, or be able to just help the people I care for. I wouldn’t be able to watch my baby sister grow up, or even get to fight with her, just once. Cornell would never happen, I would have spent my whole life in school preparing for something that was never going to happen.

            Silent tears spilled down my cheeks, but the gun man didn’t walk out the room. He didn’t hear the noise! His footsteps still slapped against the tile in the room but, he must have stopped somewhere. I had time. My left foot went in first, then my left shoulder, followed by my right foot then right shoulder.

            I slowly closed the locker door behind me, and let out a silent sigh of relief. The boy walked out of the classroom, but never suspected that I was hidden. He walked away from the side of the hallway I was hidden on, and the tears that streamed down my face were not of fear now. They were tears of joy. I had a chance, I could live another day. All I needed was a way out of the school.

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