The Lockdown • 𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔢𝔡𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤

07~ More Murders •

John and I barge into the classroom, a kid in the back screeched like a parrot. Swiftly, a crowd formed around us, people were trying to help and others just standing there staring with mortified eyes. It made me mad. They should be helping, not standing there like a pack of dumbasses.

Mrs Wesley groaned in disgust at the blood, though she soldiered on and yelled desperately trying to regain control of the class, and as I thought would've happened, absolutely no one listened.

So instead of doing the thing teachers do, when they just shut up and wait for the students to realise, all whilst giving a menacing glare. Miss did the exact opposite and smacked the kid who wouldn't leave us alone across the face whilst crying out, "Can everyone just back off!"

After seeing Ms essentially bring back the cane, they listened obediently, thank God for that. I dragged John into what Anna had claimed as our corner. It was furthest from the door and had an outline of our backpacks and binders, "Simon, grab me a pen and paper."

"No, John, y- you need to rest." I stuttered at the large boy, my eyes kept straying to the bleeding wound on his leg. The teacher passed me a cloth and softly instructed me on how to tie it whilst she also talked John through the situation.

"I got it." Miss Wesley said with misty eyes as she handed him the stationary, Ripping a page out of Anna's math book, under different circumstances, such as her actually being here, I know she would've gone full skitz at the teacher. I turned my attention back to John. I knew what he was doing, John was writing a letter to his family in case he didn't make it. I didn't want him to, nor did I want to ever think about that, but there was a guy who has already killed more than ten people. Right now, death was never off the cards.

He stared at the paper for a couple of minutes before scribbling down words on the paper, tears formed and he let out a small sob. I patted his shoulder, attempting to comfort him. John returned his focus to the paper, after seeming to be done with writing he folded the note and handed it to me, "Simon, give this to my mum if I don't make it. Promise,"

"But you're not gonna die." I stared at him. John shook his head and looked down at the crude bandage, which was formerly an apron and an clean dish cloth.

"Promise me, Si!" John growled, shoving the letter into my hands. He then gazed off, eyes becoming cloudy again and I passed him my jacket as a shitty substitute for a blanket. Minutes had passed as he stared at nothing and as I gazed at the grid paper. The curiosity was killing me, I wanted to know the words on the paper so badly, it was none of my business though, temptation slowly got the better of me as I unfolded the note, this is what it read.

''   Dear Mum & Roselyn,

For mama;      I love you Mum, but I don't think I will make it out of here alive, I've been shot in the leg and I just want you to know that I'm sorry and that I love you guys so much.

For Ro;      Rosie, I love you so much, you'll always be my little sister and no mater what, I love you. Be strong for Mum and take care of yourself.

Mum; Mum, I love you with all my heart, promise you'll take care of Rose. Don't go like the way you were when dad left. You need to look after her. Please, Mum.

I don't really know how to end this, other than that I love you both so much and that I'll always be with you, promise you'll remember me.

- Your loving son and brother, Johnny   ''

On the other side of the school, the murder had strolled into a classroom littered with bodies of the ninth grade history class. He kicked a large, green wooden door multiple times until it broke in on itself and entered the classroom.

The history room was connected to the back of an English classroom, room 104, it was designated a safe room and occupied by a large bunch of seventh graders. A chubby, dark haired girl screamed, he shot her.

"The next person to speak gets to leave." The teacher started speaking and thanking the blue-eyed killer, he raised the axe after snatching it out of a black bag that probably housed more lethal weaponry, the psychopath flung the axe across the room and into Mr Kornell's skull. "I meant leave this life."

The killer chuckled sadistically as the little grade seven's huddled on the far side of the room, some were crying, others were emotionless, most were frozen with fear, staring at their dead comrade and teacher. "That was a shit analogy, mister. I don't understand how that was poetic, or how it was able to be funny... even if the only one who laughed was you."

"Kid, back off."

The young girl rolled her eyes. "No, you think that its okay to kill us. Why? Are you mental, or are you a terrorist? Jesus Christ people, this is why we need gun control."

The killer snarled, taking a menacing step forward ans raising a pistol at her, she didn't back down though, he snarled, "Listen, you little shit, this isn't your fucking debate club about politics."

"Well, how come you're arguing with me then?" She shot back, approaching, the blue colour of her pixie cut glimmering in an intimidating way, she was pale, freckled, not to mention short and skinny with intelligent brown eyes and long lashes the colour of rich honey. That would be how she was remembered to have looked, but now, she was dead.