The first shot silenced the room. It came from behind the door of the VIP room a few meters away. Everyone was still, the music cutting off. Then came the first scream.
It pierced the quiet like a knife, sending the partygoers into a cacophony of shouting and panic. I grabbed the girl's arm, crouching down behind a table; sh*t was about to get real.
Three more shots rang out above the noise of the crowds, amplifying the panic to a point where it felt almost tangible. The room was suddenly engulfed in darkness; presumably the shooter had cut the power.
Shouts from the VIP room caught my attention, and I focused my hearing, trying to get an idea of what was happening inside. Cautiously, I crept closer to the door.
Then my heart dropped.
I could hear a fearful voice pleading with his captors.
But not just any voice.
Tony.
I had to do something; I couldn't just leave him. No, to abandon Tony would to be abandon the best and only real friend I'd had since the accident.
I could barely hear the crowd anymore. A mixture of uncontrollable fear and adrenaline consumed my body, slowing the world around me to a crawl. It had only been seconds, yet I felt like I had been there for hours.
Finally, I came to the conclusion that I had been desperately trying to avoid: it was time to try and make it happen again.
Something I had promised myself I would never do again.
Not since the night my parents died.
