Tick tick tick
I stared at the clock, annoyed at its stubborn hands. It moved with such a delay that struck my very soul.
Tap tap tap
I awaited the bell that set us all free of the heinous torture that was Algebra 2.
My eyes drooped as I rested my head down on my desk.
"I could fall asleep here and now" I thought to myself.
A small poke to my arm provoked my attention. I looked up to find a small piece of paper set on my desk.
Looking at it, I was confused. Upon opening it, I realized what this was about.
I had had my eye on someone for a while; 4 years to be exact. I was sure it was inevitable, he and I. We had both had eyes for eachother since 6th grade and everyone was restlessly waited for the confessions, myself more than anyone.
I'd have confessed a while ago, only I didn't have the words. In fact, I'm not sure the words existed to explain what I felt for Wes. We had been friends for a decently long time and I thought I was ready. It was about time.
My gaze swept the room until it landed only a few seats away from me. Wes smiled at me as his cheeks warmed up.
I looked down to the paper, nervous of its content. I carefully unfolded the edges of the paper.
Suddenly an ear piercing scream rang through the halls after a loung bang. Everyone's attention turned there.
Mrs. Mill stood quickly and made her way to the door.
Everyone seemed to hold their breath. No one dared to move an inch.
Mrs. Mill took a quick look out the small window in the door before turning to us in haste. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but only half a sound cameout before the door flew open and bullets began flying through the air.
People began running, jumping, and some hiding, but in a small classroom like ours, avoiding our attacker proved difficult.
I sat crouched under my desk, debating my next move or if I should even make one. My eyes darted to Wes. Our eyes locked, unsure of whether or not we would get to look at eachother for long.
He glanced to Mrs. Mill's desk which was much larger and provided more coverage than ours, then he glanced back to me. I looked at him, afraid.
There was no time for fear. With an exchange of slight nods, we made a run for it.
I was able to stay somewhat low to the ground as my desk was close to our teacher's. Wes was not so fortunate.
He stood as much as he had to and made it just by the desk as a shot fired.
He toppled to the floor in front of me, grasping his new wound.
I scurried to him and lifted his head to my lap as tears filled my eyes
"W-Wes..." I choked out quietly.
My fingers lightly swept hair away from his eyes. He grabbed my hand tight.
He spoke, voice weak and trembling. "Play dead."
I panicked. I couldn't think, feel, or really even see anything in the moment. My head felt warm and my chest was tight."Wes, I.." I started, but was soon cut off.
"Play. Dead." He repeatedI laid on the floor next to him and grabbed his hand.
"Keep your eyes on mine." I said lightly as I squeezed his hand.
He nodded slightly.
I studied his face as if it was the last time... and it was. A short amount of time passed and Wes only grew paler and paler as the pool of blood around him grew.
I couldn't help but cry as I looked into his dark eyes.
"Elle,..." He said weakly.
He had my attention.
"I don't want to die..." He looked at me for an answer, but I had none to offer.
My eyed darted back and forth looking for something to say.
His hand reached to my face and wiped a tear away.
I frowned at him, remaining silent.
Slowly, his eyes drifted shut and his hand released mine.I gasped as a sharp pain entered me. I looked down to see my chest turning a deep shade of crimson.
In that moment, I didn't move. I didn't yell. I didn't even breathe.
The terror was already behind me. Not even a gun shot could shake my world more than Wes already had.
I looked him as my vision began to fade in and out.
All I could do was pull him close.
There is no greater terror than watching someone you love fall, right in front of your eyes.
YOU ARE READING
Feeling one shots
RomanceA collection of short stories that provoke positive and negative emotion