How to Survive A School Shooting

1. Before

"Ashley!" My mom yelled from downstairs. I groaned and rolled over. Nine o'clock. It's nine in the morning on the last day of summer break. Why is she waking me up so early?

"Ashley!" Mom said, opening my door when I didn't answer her.

"What?" I mumbled into my pillow.

"I'm leaving now and I won't be home until supper. Can you please come downstairs and watch Kira and Andy?"

"Mom," I whined, rolling over to face her. "It's the last day of summer break. I want to laze around."

"Be lazy downstairs," Mom said to me. "I don't want your brother and sister getting themselves into trouble."

"Fine," I groaned, getting out of bed. Mom took hold of my shoulders and looked me in the eyes.

"Thank you," she smiled at me. "I knew I could count on you. I'll order in dinner tonight, okay? Pizza?"

"Not pizza," I said. "The twins always get pizza. Can we order in from Demitri's?"

Mom smiled at me, pulled me into a hug.

"I know it's hard with your dad away. Thanks for helping out," she said.

"It's okay. Kira and Andrew are brats, but I love them," I smirked at Mom. She smirked back.

"I know you do," she said.

"And I love you too. Even if you wake me up at nine am on my last day of summer vacation."

"Now who's the brat?" Mom laughed. I smiled.

"Go, you're going to be late. I've got the brats. I'm just going to use the washroom and change. Tell them not to burn the house down before I get down there," I said, going into my bathroom. That was one advantage to being the oldest. I had a bathroom attached to my room. Kira and Andrew had to share the bathroom between their bedrooms.

"But it's okay for them to burn it down when you get downstairs?" Mom smiled.

"Obviously," I laughed.

Mom gave me another quick hug and kiss on the head, and left. I heard her telling the twins I would be down soon and to listen to me. And behave.

They would. Honestly, I really do love my brother and sister. They're eight-years-old and really pretty smart. They have amazing senses of humour and most of the time, we get along. They can be bratty, but with almost seven years between us, I guess it's really just a matter of perspective. I complain about them to my friends, because doesn't everyone complain about their siblings at one point or another? But the truth is, I would die for those two. I would throw myself in front of a bus for them. No one touches my brother and sister without going through me first.

I used the bathroom, washed my face, brushed my teeth and went back into my room where I quickly changed into track pants and a t-shirt, ran a brush through my hair and put it in a loose ponytail and went downstairs.

"Okay brats, what trouble are you getting up to already?" I asked, seeing Andy on the kitchen stool at the stove and Kira looking in the pantry.

"We wanted to make you pancakes," Andy said.

"You're not even allowed to use the stove!" I said, making Andy get off the stool by the stove.

"Well, that was the first problem," Andy said. "The second is, we have no pancake mix."

I sighed, but I smiled.

"So, you wanted to make me pancakes. That's nice. Why?"

"Can we go to the pool today?" Kira asked, batting her brown eyes and looking up at me from between the bangs of her strawberry blonde hair. I looked over at Andy who was looking at me pleadingly, his matching eyes also pleading with me to say yes.