The Uprising

Chapter Two--Annabelle Sommer

     I was in the middle of chaos. The alarm was going off. And everyone was panicking.

       "Okay, class, get under your desks everything is going to be fine," lied Frauline Folkes.

        I heard some commotion from the hallway.

     "Please, I have to go! You can't keep me here. She's my baby sister, and she's out there! They're going to bomb that neighborhood first. She can't die!" I heard a boy yell.

      "You'll have to stay here. She'll be fine,"  said a bored voice.

      "No, she won't! Please, sir, my father died in World War Three in a bomb raid. I was supposed to keep her safe. I promised my—" he was cut off by a vicious crunching sound.

      What happened? What did they do to that poor boy? I peered over to the hallways. A blonde haired boy was kneeling down clutching his jaw. Blood was pouring down his face. He looked very familiar. A soldier was above him holding a gun with blood on the butt of it. What a cruel thing to do to a boy who's just worried about his sister. Our teacher ran out and dragged the boy back in, trying  to stop the blood while staying under the desk.

     Suddenly, I started to feel as if someone turned a speaker on full volume behind me. I held a leg of the desk for support. There were screams of children and teachers, and something across the hall exploded. A girl next to me sobbed and held her head in her hands. I heard gunshots, and I jumped up and darted into the hallway just as the room next to the one I was in exploded. I covered my head with my arms. Ow, I thought as pieces of wall collided with my arm. Frauline Wagner half carried-half dragged the blond haired boy out of the classroom and towards the nurse's office. A substitute, Mr. Fake Teacher is what I called him, took her place supervising the class.

     I went back into our room, deciding that it was probably just as safe in there as it was standing in the hallway, exposed.

          

  Dr. Peter  Strauss
       
I was sleeping with my face in my pillow when I was poked in the back by Ina.
  
   "Ow," I complained.

       "It's ten o'clock. You should be up by now. There's been a, ah, problem at the school,"  she said.

         I groaned and rolled over. Ina grabbed my arm and pulled me out of bed.

          "Get out so I can get ready," I muttered.
   
She stayed frozen in place.

    "I said, 'GO!'"

    Still there.

    "Okay, do I have to do this?"

    Ina nodded. "Sing, my Angel of Music! Sing for me!"

    "Fine, alright." I lifted my hand up to cover the left half of my face, stood up, and started shout-singing "Go now! Go now and leave me!" accompanied by some dramatic head jerks and arm and hand gestures.

    "There. Now I'll leave, my Angel of Music," Ina said before planting a kiss. As she walked through the hallway, I heard her singing "Angel of Music, guide and guardian..."

Annabelle Sommer
            Mr. Fake Teacher told me I had to go to the nurse to treat a gash on my arm I got from the second explosion. I was pretty ticked off. It was dangerous in the halls, and my injury wasn't too serious. Anyway, I walked to the nurse's office. The little office was surprisingly empty. The nurse looked up at me through a curtain of blonde hair.

          "Yes? May I help you?" she asked. 

           "Um. My arm.. uh," I stuttered.