As It Was (COMPLETED) (wattys2023)

How We Get By

Day of Shooting

The bullets echoed and ricocheted in the vacant hallway. My eyes remained glued to the door in anticipation, bracing myself with every second that passed for one of my brothers to break through the door and open fire into the classroom. Coach Phillips stood beside the cluttered desk, his entire body as tense as my own. For a second, I think both of us slowly lowered our guard when we didn't hear the loud magazine being unloaded. But it was in that second that Clark decided to finally kick repeatedly at the door until it was open. Coach started toward my brother and within seconds had knocked the AR from Clark's grip.

"Run!" the middle-aged man yelled, trying his best to keep Clark from retrieving the gun. Not even halfway down the hallway I heard the gun go off and winced, the burning in my chest and my legs eventually forcing me to collapse in the cafeteria. It wasn't until I glanced up that I found myself equally relieved and horrified.

Most of the student body present today was in here, ducking and crouched beneath and behind tables and chairs. It would be Clark's wonderland if he found that they were in here. But it seemed as though he'd already made an appearance, as bloody footprints and trails of blood smeared the tile as it did in the hall.

"Evie, baby!" before I could comprehend what was happening, arms circled around me and I was in my boyfriend's arms. Though I was terrified to look up, I forced my head back and a quiet cry escaped me when I saw the blood splattered across my Miles' already mutilated face from his fight with Clark.

"Are you okay? What happened? Your face is covered in blood."

His cold fingers touched my forehead where my brother had drove the hilt of the gun into my temple. I flinched under the touch but refused to release my arms from his torso. He started to maneuver us backward, keeping his arms tightly around me as if he were in just as much fear as I was that if we were separated, we'd possibly never hold one another again.

"Frankie was in here. Picked off like five teachers and a few of the football team. We tried to help but. . . I had to make sure nobody else got hurt. But it didn't seem like Frankie was on a murderous rampage, he obviously has a plan."

I felt a cold shiver down my spine as I buried my face in his chest and inhaled the spicy cologne to keep myself from breaking down. "Clark picked off nearly everyone in my classroom."

Miles grew rigid against me as he lowered us down into a crouch and whispered. "Brady?"

I remained silent, knowing very well me explaining anything would only devastate my boyfriend further.

"Okay, I have a plan." Miles whispered a few minutes later, having recollected himself from the news momentarily. "If enough of us guys get the door to the courtyard open, it'll give everyone in here a way out. Your brothers may have automatics, but they won't be able to get everyone. And if a couple of us guys hold them off and try and disarm them—"

"No!" I immediately cried, clutching his blood-stained shirt in my hand. "You're not doing that."

Miles brushed his knuckle along my cheek. "I need your help, Ev. If they come in here while we're trying to break the lock from the inside, you may be enough for them to hesitate. Clark's a fucking psychopath but I don't think he'll shoot you."

After what I'd seen in that classroom and how he'd looked down at me in the hallway, I had serious doubts about that.

I shook my head repeatedly, but Miles began to rise to his feet and nodded toward a few of his teammates sitting under the table parallel to ours. I grasped his arm and steadied myself so I was in step with him as he started toward the door. "Miles, you can't do this. We need to stand down and—"