Red Dress (3 Shots Fired)

Red Dress

Authors note: Hi this is my first story it is called red dress and is about school shooting so if that triggers you I would recommend clicking off. Please be nice and leave helpful comments! I hope you like it.
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My favourite dress was a white dress. A flowy white dress with long, sheer sleeves and tiny yellow butterflies imprinted onto it. I wore it every chance I got. Every beach trip, every long car ride, I even wore it on my first date.

It was like my lucky charm, my bestfriend. I understand how strange and deluded that must sound, calling a piece of fabric a friend. But anytime I wore it, I seemed to have a somewhat bearable day. I could block out all of the mean glares, the funny stares, I felt as though I was free in it.

Until I wasn't.

I sat there, zoned out, staring through a window at the daisies and the buttercups in the school field as my teacher blabbed on about some useless, random facts about the earth.

Her walkie talkie buzzed, as she listened to another member of staff through it, she froze, it was as though she had just stared into the eyes of Medusa.

Suddenly, she ran to the door and slammed it shut. She hurried us off of our chairs as she stacked them one by one at the door.

The lockdown alarm went and a sudden wave of realisation came over me. I collapsed onto the floor. I felt helpless and lonely as everyone would huddle up close to their friends and all I had was myself.

I rushed over to the corner where my classmates sat, cried, panicked when suddenly there was 5 bangs on the door - 4 words shouted; "Open the f—king door!" and 3 shots fired.

My classmates screamed heart-shattering screams. Some were praying for their lives, some messaging their loved ones.

The man at the door must've been atleast 40, and these were teenagers. He was ready to end their lives before they had even had their first job, house, car, all for his entertainment.

He didn't go to another classroom, thankfully. Nor did he leave. He kicked and punched the door as if his life depended on it, but it didn't - it was ours that did.

There was as little as 45 seconds of silence before there was more bashes on the door that sounded like metal being thrown full force at it.

Suddenly the chairs flung back toward the wall, barely missing a group of students. The lock on the door clicked. The handle lowered slowly as the door was pushed open.

One single tear rolled down my cheek.

"I want every last one of you on the ground, now!" the gunman yelled, but I felt paralysed. No matter how hard I tried to lower my body to the ground, I couldn't.
Outside, I was silent. On the inside - desperate. I knew if I didn't get down to the floor, he would force me to himself, with a bullet.

"I said get on the F—KING GROUND!" the man shouted to me, as if he were saying it was my last chance.

And he was.

All of a sudden - 3 shots fired. I felt sharp stings in my stomach. The blood stained my dress as I begged him to stop. Another bullet flew at me, injecting itself into my left arm.

Blood gushed out, I tried to scream but I couldn't, my classmates did the screaming for me, as they watched my life come to a close, early then it was supposed to.

I became woozy as warm blood stained my dress, my favourite dress.

All I could think about is how in 1 minute he converted my dress from being lucky to being bloody. My favourite white dress, is now a red dress.