As a story ends, a new one begins. My story, however, will lead you, will fool you, will teach you the curses of this world. It began at the start of the new school year, finally, in middle school, I thought. But that thought soon would become a nightmare. A nightmare that would haunt any child, any teen, any adult. The day began as usual, until, the 4th period. The bell rang, it sounded different, louder, noisier, like it was warning us, but that's silly, how could a bell, an object, an item warn us. I sat in my seat, next to my close friends, next to the girl who always showed up on time, next to the boy who peaked in elementary school. That day, was no different, until, the siren rang, the speaker abruptly sounded, the faint office lady's voice sounded on every intercom in the school.
She stated, "Teachers, substitutes, anyone that has control of the computer go to channel 441."
At that moment, the lady's voice was gone, the intercom stayed on, however, white noise flooded over the school. The fear, the anxiousness, the panic, was louder than anything I heard before. My teacher at the time, Mrs. Peazoo, slowly went to channel 441, she was calm, too calm, we the students knew she was scared. The channel was a news station, however, as we opened up the live broadcast, all we saw, was the terror our world was about to face. Something was odd, as we watched the channel there was no one in sight. At the bottom of our screen, a red bar appeared, with white text, moving, from left to right. All it said was, run, hide, and don't go outside...
Of course, there was this one student, whose curiosity wondered, he went to the window. Staring at the endless field. His fingers grazed the latch of the window, until, we heard a click.
"JEFFERSON, DON'T YOU DARE OPEN THAT WINDOW!" Mrs. Peazoo yelled.
That boy did not listen, he thought it was a joke, with his fingers he pride open the window. Then the unaccepted, the incapable happened. With the breeze now entering the classroom, it smelled like chocolate, however, that breeze was soon to kill over half the class. It started with the boy who opened the window, his face turned from a pale mess to a gray decrypted monster. His eyes, blood shoot. His nails grew, they were sharp, they were pointy, they were as clean-cut and as dangerous as a sword.
At that moment, his bloodshot eyes turned onto Mrs. Peazoo...
YOU ARE READING
Breaking Point
ActionI little story, my friends in 7th grade came up with this idea, of writing a story I mean. I decided to actually do it a few years later, with the same idea we had back then.
