A Shot of Reality

The real world... not the nicest place. Death, divorce, broken hearts, murder, poverty, and the lack of everything happy. Christmas time is hear, what a scapegoat. The world doesn't get any better just because it's wrapped in pretty paper and topped with a bow. Yay!

Rudolph the red nose reindeer, bullied by his own dad. Then he saves Christmas and is a hero. YEAH RIGHT! That's not how it works... in reality.

Friday, December 14, 2012

I went to school a misfit, average fifth grader. I came out, a wounded, invisible hero.

9 am, school starts. the bell rings for quiet. My teacher calls role. "Emma Ane."

Emma replies, "Here!"

"John Beks."

"Here!"

"Evan Case."

"Here!"

The list went on. She gets to my name at last.

"Amy Wilkson."

"Here!" I said.

The morning announcements came on just like every morning. It tells us about a lot of stuff we don't need to know. No one was paying attention.

After the boring announcements, class started normally. We got out our homework to check it. Four people didn't do it. So, typical.

"Number 1!" my teacher said aloud. "D! Number 2! B! Number 3! Alec, what is number 3?"

"C?" he replied.

"Correct! Number 4!" Mrs. Kenpal, my teacher, went on.

We corrected all of the homework. I had them all correct, of course. Though, it would have fit better with the rest of the day if I had done the opposite.

The announcement came on as soon as the class had gotten out our science notebooks. "Intruder alert! This is not a drill. I repeat this is not a drill."

Mrs. Kenpal herds us to the back corner of the room. She locks the door so people can get out, but not in.

Gun shots are heard coming from the front of the building near the kindergartners and the first graders. A few scream.

I glance at my teacher. She looks so much more nervous than I felt. I'm not worth anything. I heard a few more screams and some wailing after another gunshot.

I couldn't stand it anymore. I got up, went to the door, and just walked out. Mrs. Kenpal runs after me.

She says, "Get back in the classroom now."

"No," I reply calmly.

The teacher grabbed my wrist and said, "Now!" as she dragged my back to the classroom.

"No," I said again shaking off her hand. "I can't sit around and wait for someone else to die, just so I'm safe. I'm worth nothing."

My teacher looked white as a sheet as I turned around and ran right down the hall. I kept my steps as soft as possible. First hall way, Kindergarten, second door, open, Miss Michelle's class. I approached the door with caution. I peaked inside.

A tall man was standing inside the room. He was pointing a gun at three small kindergartners.

He loaded the gun.

The kids were frozen to the spot.

The man raised the gun.

I ran and jumped over the children as three bullets slid out of the gun in quick secession. One hit my shoulder and one hit my back. The third missed me. I landed creating a dome over the kids. 

The police were at the door seconds after the shots had been fired. They arrested him on the spot. Two paramedics moved me so that the kids could come out. The kids were shaky, but unharmed. They turned their attention on to me.

One asked, "Can you hear me?"

I rasped a simple yes.

They got out the bandages.

"Help the kids first. I don't matter," I said through the pain as they wrapped my shoulder tightly and placed a thick cotton pad over the gun wound in my back. I flinched in pain, even at that little bit of weight. The paramedic told someone to hold the pad down.

Then they obeyed my request and helped the others. Afterwards the paramedics placed me and several others in ambulances. Later I found out 15 students were dead, along with three teachers, and the principle.

I may have acted as a hero, but it didn't make a difference and now I'm a freak. I won't wear no sleeves anymore. People will stare at me and ask weird questions. I don't want to remember that I'm a bloody, messed up wreak or that I got a shot of reality. I don't want to remember. Ever.