A Word a Day

Day One: Hero

        The entire school body quieted as they tromped onward into the gym. A few held jackets loosely in their arms, looking utterly baffled. They had long since supposed that a bomb threat was the reason for the tension between the teachers, the reason the police suddenly stood at every intersection of every hall. Yet, if that was so, then why were they not leaving the building? Why were they instead being ushered into a room, a few of their number inexplicably missing? And as the last student filed in, the guidance counselor shut the door, the lock clicking in place with a sense of finality.

        A hush fell over the countless students, the room was suddenly blanketed in silence. It was somehow understood by even the most rebellious of their number that something of great vitality was about to take place; no one wanted to miss recieving such information. Those who dared to speak a word were quickly silenced by their curious peers. And the result was that one could hear only the breathing of their neighbors. Footsteps, however, quickly closed in on the room.

        Everyone's head had turned to greet the newcomer even before he entered. Indeed, even when the guest was revealed as yet another cop, he was watched with utmost intensity, not a single gaze wavering in the addictive tension of that moment. Everything remained silent, not a single entity daring to move.

        As the police officer took his place in the room's center, he cleared his throat, his sweat giving way to his otherwise shielded nerves. He took a few moments to look over his audience, taking them in in a quiet, respectful manner. One thing was clear: no matter what he had come to do and say, he did not at all want that moment of revelation to come.

        Finally, the moment of revelation came.

        "I'm sure you've all been wondering why you've been called out of your classes today," the officer said, voice shaking slightly as though he feared the reaction of the onlookers. "As I'm sure a few oof you suspected, there was a bomb threat today." His face looked grim. "And indeed, we found a bomb."

        Everyone in the room seemed to gasp in unison. No one had expected the police to actualy find anything; usually, the threats were empty ones intended to remove a student from his or her studies, to save them from having to take a fearsome exam. There was no one among them who would actually put their lives in danger, surely. Maybe it was just a mistake? Perhaps the police were wrong? The audience began to exchange hopeful glances in this sudden burst of denial, knowing that they were being unreasonable and yet not wanting to come to terms with what had just been said.

        The officer gave them some time to allow this to sink in before continuing onward, ever loyal to his wretched duties. "We have numerous suspects, and they have been removed from the premises for questioning. But do not fear; they are all innocent until proven otherwise."

        At this point, a few sets of eyes welled with tears as students at every grade level realized that their friend was gone in relation to the threat. They shook their heads in denial. No. Who could've done such a cruel thing?

        The cop sighed wearily and continued. "We are working to find a possible motive for--"

        "They're innocent," a raised voice suddenly intervened.

        The officer looked up in the direction the voice had come from, clearly bewildered. "Pardon?"

        A lanky young man with shoulderlength black hair and piercing blue eyes got to his feet. "They're innocent," he repeated slowly, speaking as though the officer was a dullard. "They don't deserve this."

        Fidgeting in apparent discomfort, the officer wet his tongue from his canteen before looking up at the boy. "Young man, if you know anything about the threats, I compel you to speak with an officer as soon as the meeting lets out. After all, if you can prove these suspects innocent--"

        "I will not wait," the youth insisted monotonously.

        The tension in the room increased as the young man walked purposefully to the end of the aisle. He looked down at the police, who clearly didn't no what to think, and he did the unthinkable. He smiled.

        "Fools," he practically crooned, grinning in the way of a maniac. He started down the bleachers slowly. "How could you suspect them? What have those you've taken ever done to earn your judgement? Bryson, Jonas, Kayna..." He stopped at the bottom stair and raised an eyebrow elegantly. "What motive would they have? Why would they risk their future, their entire lives?" He paused for a moment. "Why would anyone risk the lives of so many?"

        At this, he began to stride toward the officer, circling the man with a wicked grin upon his face. "I'll tell you why," he said in a hush, and the crowd drank in every word in apprehension. The young man took a step toward the officer so that there was less than a foot between them. Their eyes met. "Because he's desperate."

        At the word "desperate," the young man lunged at the unsuspecting officer, wrenching the handgun from his holster. Still grinning maniacally, the youth pointed the gun at him and laughed. "Only one person's that desperate," he snarled menacingly. "And that's a person who you've failed to apprehend."

        From every corner of the room, the sound of officers taking out their weapons could be heard. Students hunkered down, a few middle school girls screamed earsplitting screams. Teachers instinctively formed a wall between the scene and the students, eyes bugging out of their heads.

        "Son," one of the officers called out, voice severe. "Son, drop the gun. You don't want to do this. You aren't a killer."

        "No," the boy agreed, lips curled into a sneer. "But I have to. It's the only way." Nonetheless, his hands began to tremble slightly.

        "Boy, listen to me," the officer urged. "I know why your doing this. But I'm telling you: this is not the answer. Drop the gun and let us help you."

        The boy's sneer faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered. "Why should I listen to you?" he demanded fiercely.

        The officer took a tentative step toward the boy. Startled, the youth almost dropped his newly-acquired weapon. But it was the officer who let his firearms fall to the ground. He gazed into the boy's eyes desperately. "Because I've been where you've been before," he whispered.

        What happened next was impossibly beautiful, the students and staff would later say. Each officer, one by one, dropped his or her weapon, raising their hands into the air. The young man looked stunned, and he just stood there and stared, his grip on the gun loosening more and more as the moments passed. Finally, it fell to the ground loudly.

        He dropped to his knees and began to cry.