Castor
The man came into my geometry class yelling at us to get on the ground. We all complied to his askings and we all ducked with our hands atop our heads. The man started slowly walking around the room in a circle until his thumping footsteps stopped right in front of me. I opened my tightly shut eyes to see the toes of the man's unmoving, tan work boots and my heart stopped. I slowly looked up , making eye contact with the frightening male with the gun that threatened all my classmates lives. The handler of that gun smiled and talked in a smooth, cocky voice.
'Get up pretty boy, we're going on a trip.'
I hesitantly stood up and looked at the handler to see he looked not much older than he was. This handler looked no older than 21. I wanted to scream at him, ask him why he was threatening all these people with the gun he handled. But I stayed straight faced as he talked into a radio.
'I need a babysitter in the portables class 36, I'm heading to the main room.'
He put the radio away and grabbed the back of my head with one hand and started dragging me out of the class. He slammed the door to room 36 and put a weird lock on it and continued to drag me to the unknown destination that was the main room. He had walked me through the whole deserted campus and we were reaching the end of the high school. I relized we were going to the only classroom this far back. The band room. When we finally got there, there was one of the strange locks I had seen earlier on the door. The handler released me from his restricting grip and put his thumb over the lock as he started punching in a number sequence I couldn't remember. The door then sung open. The first thing I saw in the horrifying room was a girl I used to be friends with, Beth Geraz, with her brains blown out of her head onto the walls. I cringed as I saw the rest of the band class with a bullet through they're head. My lip started to quiver and my eyes started to form tears in fear as I looked at the handler in horror. I frantically looked around the room and saw three people who were tied up in chairs next to one empty stool. Then the handler spoke once again.
'That stool's for you pretty boy. Once you're all tied up you four will be a big part in out plan.'
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Stereotypes
Teen FictionOur world is full of stereotypes. Everyone is drowning neck deep in these guidelines society is making for us. But why do we have to follow these rules? Why do we give into what society wants? See, there are people who are screaming their words of o...
