Heroes

Days of Destruction

September 10th 2015

"Zoey, are almost ready? You don't want to be late for your first day," I heard my dad's voice fill the halls of our house.

"I'm coming down right now," I replied bouncing down the stairs.

"I can't believe it's your first day of 7th grade! We need to take pictures," Dad announced.

"Ugh, Dad," I whined. I hate pictures.

"Nope. No whining. Your mother would want pictures." I stomach drops. It's been five years since my mom died and I still can't handle talking about it. She was in the Marines, with my dad, and someone went to shoot him. Before the bullet could come in contact with his flesh, she pushed him out of the way and took the shot. Getting that news at seven years old killed me. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I didn't even go to school for a whole week.

I stood up straight as Dad got out the camera.

"Ready? One, two, three... smile," he said clicking the button to take a picture. "Zo, before you head off to the bus stop, I want to give you this," he pulled out a box.

"Dad, a present? You didn't have to," I complain. I hate when people spend money on me.

"I know I didn't have to, I wanted to," He smiled. I slowly ripped the blue wrapping paper and tore open the small box. Inside lied a dogtag that had a picture with my dad,my mom, and I on it. It was perfect.

"Dad," I breathe, "I love it!" I gave him a hug and looked at the clock. "Oh! I have to go," I said realizing the time.

"Okay, love you, have a good day at school!," he yelled while I ran out the doorway.

When I arrived at school, I saw Mark, my best friend in my class.

"Mark!," I yelled over to him.

"Zoey, hey! I'm glad we're in the same class together."

"The teachers should know to never have us in the same place," I laughed. We have a habit of turning into little troublemakers when we're together.... For example, in Kindergarden, we glued some girls' hands together after they tried to chop off my long bleach blonde hair. In third grade, for a science project instead of putting the normal ingredients you need for a paper- mâché volcano, we added laughing gas... Don't ask where we got it... Finally, last year on a field trip, we "accidentally" knocked over a terrarium filled with frogs and toads into a bully's lunch bag. As you could tell, we have an amazing friendship.

We took are seats in the old wooden desks. My first class was language arts with Mrs. Ashenhurst. She's a very peppy teacher who could've definitely been a cheerleader in her HighSchool years.

Halfway through her speech of how great our year will be, the sound of an announcement comes on.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is a lockdown. Teachers please lock your doors."

This causes a lot of confusion. What was happening? This wasn't a drill... we're usually informed if it was.

"Class, move to the opposite side of the room," Mrs.Ashenhurst barks at us, suddenly turning into a drill sergeant. We ran across the room. Before the teacher closed the blinds I got a glance at the Sun.

"Mark," I whisper. "Does the Sun look red to you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about.... are you okay Zoey?"

"Uh...yeah....nevermind." It was irritating that Mark didn't see it. I didn't understand how he couldn't see it, the Sun was red with these huge flares coming off of it! A few minutes later, we heard noises outside our door. Someone punched through our door.