Silence? No. It was more than silence. Saying "you could hear a pin drop" did not cut it. You could hear a pin drop down the hall four classrooms away. It was dark except for the little bit of light that made its way from the window. Every once in awhile you could hear a soft heavy exhale from one of the people around you. I was doing it too; I was holding my breath in for as long as I could and then exhaling slowly. It was the fear. Fear was hanging over all 25 students like a weight on each of our shoulders. Unable to help and unable to act.
In these situations all you can do is choke down all emotion because crying was just too loud. These situations, that some of us are lucky to never experience, are setting you up for long goodbyes to your parents and friends. Nothing makes you feel as uneasy as an imaginary conversation with your mom and dad that plays over and over in your head.
"I love you mom. I love you dad. Thank you for everything you have ever given me."
At first it was not as bad. We all huddled in a corner that had a cabinet towering over us. Some kids just giggling and on their phones. Even the teacher was at ease although, she did not receive an email about the 'drill'. It was all not so bad until we heard the first three gunshots. They were too close. Too close. They were loud bangs that made my ears ring a little in nervousness. The light from people's phones immediately disappeared and then it was silent. More than silent, like I said.
The even scarier thing that eventually crossed my mind is that those people died. I didn't even have to see the scene to know, because after those three gunshots there were no sounds. No screaming. No crying. No nothing. Just that silence that made every body in the room shiver. After the three gunshots there were no more sounds. We all waited for about twenty minutes which felt like longer. Much longer. Finally we heard someone in the hallway right by our door. Footsteps.
"Pl-Please! Let me in please!" A young voice cried.
We all shot a look at the teacher who at this point was breaking more than all the students. Her face was pale and her eyes bloodshot. Even through the darkness in the room I could see her face trembling. We looked at her with wide eyes waiting for her to give us the 'okay'. Would she let us open the door? One of the students in the room, I believe her name was Ariel, got up ready to unwrap the extension chord from the door handle. The grey cord wrapped around it several times and then was tied to the tables next to it. Several desks were piled in front of the door. We all held large text books, incase he did make it through our barricade, we'd chuck the books at him.
"A-Ariel! Don't touch that door!" Mrs. Adams got up clenching her cell phone.
Ariel looked at her. Her expression formed into anger. Her eyes watered and everyone else began to sniffle. It was obvious she was trying to suppress her emotions, but she sobbed as she spoke.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" She said with a harsh whisper.
All that could be heard outside the door was constant knocking and banging; the cries of an innocent life in danger. Hearing him outside begging to be saved was probably worse than hearing the gunshots. At that thought I felt sick for even trying to determine which parts of the situation were worse. It was all worse. It was all sickening.
"We cannot let anyone in. The door has already been secured. We can't risk our lives for one person. As morbid as that may sound, which is worse? One life or 25?" Her voice shook as she spoke. It was like he couldn't control it. Mrs. Adams looked like she was going to upchuck all over the place.
"Mrs. Adams—" Ariel began and then Mrs. Adams ran towards her. Was she going to tackle her? I got up quickly to try and intervene-holding the small woman back, but she just ran right past Ariel. She fell right before the trash can on her hands and knees. She pulled the trash can into her chest almost like she was hugging it. A creamy orange colored liquid spewed from her mouth. I turned away covering my face. I felt like my head was going to explode. The silence was gone. There was screaming from outside the door and teens crying and a woman projectile vomiting onto the wall and into the trash can.
YOU ARE READING
My Friend Silence
HorrorShort Story: how would it feel to be victim of a school shooting?