Just Another Normal Day | ✓

-/+ 0h, Part V

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Alex didn't understand what was going on.

What was it that was making the teachers so scared?

Why did they have to hide and lock the doors?

Alex looked to his best friend for help, but Will just shrugged helplessly, a look of terror on his face. None of them knew exactly what was going on, but they all knew it was something very very bad.

Alex hid under his table, staring at his teacher, Ms Garcia, as she struggled to lock the door.

But their classroom door lock had always been faulty, and it had never been fixed.

The lock didn't budge and soon enough, Alex could hear the sounds –no, the gunshots–get louder and louder as they came closer.

He didn't know what was going on out there but the guesses in his head were enough to make his hand start shaking and give him a heartache. He didn't like this. He wanted to go home and play video games with Will. It was Will's last day at school, for God's sake!

Fingers shaking, Alex watched as Ms Garcia messaged on her phone, trying to gauge the severity of the situation. She tried to keep the class as quiet as possible, hoping against hope that the shooter would just let them be.

But just then, the door flung open.

"Ahhh, my old class. And an open door, too. Thank goodness. Been shooting through too many doors and windows rather than bodies and I must say, it was getting rather boring without seeing the look of terror on those poor kids' faces."

Alex could feel his heart rate increase tenfold, his teeth chattering. He didn't like this guy. At all.

He gave off bad vibes.

Very bad vibes.

The man glanced around the room, his eyes glistening with anger. He scowled, looking at every single one of them.

He began to say in mock happiness, "Oh my! So young and happy... and yet so, very, dead." The killer began to shoot.

He let the bullets fly mercilessly, an vexed look on his face as terrified children tried to move out of the way of death.

But everyone knows: bullets are much faster than feet.

Alex let out a cry, wishing and hoping the bullets would avoid him as he crouched down under his table, arms held up around his head.

Mom. I don't want to die. Please.

Mom, I'm so scared.

After letting out a certain number of bullets, the man stopped, watching the blood seep out of the poor children. "I hate you all."

Alex whipped his head around, his mind still in a daze.

Actual bullets. The man used ACTUAL BULLETS.

Alex could feel tears starting to prick at the edge of his eyes. He was scared. Strike that, scared didn't even come close to the fear he was feeling, the tight feeling in his chest, his sudden loss of focus. He was downright terrified.

Hell, even that was an understatement!

And then Alex saw something that made his heart drop, and his head spin.

Will.

Laying in a pool of blood.

No, that's impossible.

He shouldn't have been lying on the floor, right? He was probably playing a game or something, right? He wasn't dead, right?

Alex crawled towards the body under the table, sobbing once he saw his friend's motionless state. Will's eyes were lifeless, lost of their childish excitement. His heart rate was still, unlike all those times when they played those stupid video games in the safety of their homes, unafraid of the bullets on that little screen.

Alex choked out a sob.

He wasn't dead yet. He couldn't be. They hadn't even played Zombiefier X yet!

Alex screamed, gripping onto his best friend's body with his bloody hands, "WAKE UP! WAKE UP! Your supposed.. supposed to be... al-alive. Please. Get up, Will."

Alex begun to sob in frustration of pure misery.

The killer left the room, something close to pity and guilt on his features. But what was done was done. The past is the past.

Alex's cries slowly died down and he stared off into space, his eyes glazed over. Will is gone. Forever. 

The class stayed silent other than the quiet sobs and sudden outbursts of emotion. Their heartbroken teacher stared off into blank space, her eyes watering.

My students. She felt like breaking down. Her heart was shattering. And keeping up the brave front just felt so hard at the moment. She had watched, helpless, as countless bullets pierced her students' bodies, and had heard their terrified screams as they fell to the ground.

Their hopes and dreams. Gone.

Ms Garcia looked down at her phone, her eyes widening. This time, for a much better reason.

The shooter. He'd been caught.

Dead.

The teacher suddenly stood upright, her eyes brimming with tears. Trying to polish that brave facade of hers, she asked the remaining of her students to quietly stand up and follow her out the school with their arms raised up and above their heads.

She stepped out first, looking out for any possible threats, her emotions in a whirlwind. And with one last glance at the students she had lost that day, Ms Garcia swallowed, took a deep shaky breath, and led her students to safety.

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