"Get down!"
The words resonated through the air, voice pierce and loud.
within mere seconds, all present souls have followed the order, finding shelter underneath every surface in their line of vision.
Very quickly followed the gunshot, cutting through the air. Louder than any panicked scream and yelp that escaped the mouths of those who got caught up in a room with an active shooter.
Michael hid in a storage room, along with his coworker and a couple of additional misfortuned men.
He worked in this store for months on end, and ran into many types of customers: lovely ones, obnoxious ones, drunk ones and loud ones.
But this was his first encounter with a weaponed one.
With shallow breaths, he tried his best to stay calm, to stay quiet, to keep the shooter as far as possible from the storage room.
His coworker, Charlie, however, did quite the opposite as he dramatically whispered the same words over and over again.
"We're gonna die, we're gonna die, we're gonna die, we're gonna die."
All Michael could do was roll his eyes and hope really hard that Charlie was wrong.
Unlike Michael, one of their acquaintances inside the storage room took an opposite approach.
"Will you shut up already?" He angrily whispered .
And Charlie complied to his wishes, but not without trying to share a judgmental glance with Michael, which he didn't return.
The stranger noticed Charlie's expression and rolled his eyes, and this marked the end of their encounter.
And as if on cue, a second gunshot sounded.
In a heartbeat, all eyes locked on the closed door of the small storage room, wide and terrified.
Loud, muffled shouts could be heard from the opposite side of the door. The shooter threatened his hostages.
"Matt, when's the police getting here?"
Whispered the 'rude' stranger, asking his friend who crunched down next to him, as he contacted the police.
"Three minutes" he whispered back, and for three whole minutes, they all held their breath, waiting anxiously for the sirens to sound.
And when it did, they all came to know the sweet sound of redemption, and it was addicting.
The world seemed to blur until the door to the storage room dramatically opened.
On the other side stood a police officer, and the world changed forever.
She freed them from the shooter, although not from the trauma.
The look in the shooter's crazy eyes devastated Michael.
He feared it would haunt his mind for eternity.
But all he could do was hope.
~~~~
Helloooo , I'm glad you're reading this!
I just had muse to this story and it came together pretty quickly.
I hope you like it!
YOU ARE READING
A Beautiful Mind
PoesíaA few short passages (that some of them might consider as poetry) that I wrote while listening to music and vibin' (: It's not a continuous book, so no commitment, and hopefully you will give it a shot and might even enjoy it (I sure will apprecia...
