I Think I Love You

Chapter 2: Mia

Chapter 2: Mia

I read the lines on the page, highlighting dialogue between Macbeth and Banquo. I say the lines over and over again trying my best to commit the little I knew to memory, nodding every time I think I have it down. I start to feel myself drown in hopelessness ruffling through the hundred other pages I have yet to read over. There has to be another way. I wonder if I might be able to sneak in a cheat sheet with -

Thud.

I hear a dull sound. My eyes dart to the side of my face while my head stays buried deep in my notes. I've always known myself to be quite observant, but now is not the time. I resist the urge to give way to my curiosity. Besides, it sounds like the football team is still shoving unlucky niners into lockers. But truthfully, I couldn't make out the sound exactly. "Focus" I scold myself as I shake my head. I can't keep letting myself get distracted with all the outside noise. With a blink of an eye, my focus shifts back to the lines on the page and I hear myself rehearsing a monologue by Lady Macbeth. I wonder how twisted her-

Boom!

Without hesitation, my head jerks up. A slap of fear lets my curiosity out loose. This was not a sound I've heard before. Not like the noise I heard moments earlier...or maybe the noise just found a new way to be heard. I let my attention break from studying, and begin to wait. Listening, as the library has turned even more silent than it was just seconds before, and I begin to wonder if everyone else is listening for the same sound. I'm surprised to feel the heavy rise and fall of my chest, taking a quick moment to notice I no longer have control of my breaths. I start thinking about the possibilities and I catch myself hoping to find silence in this 'made-up' waiting game. I watch the clock, and it reads 9:05am. The hand of the clock seems to move much slower than before. Tick, tock. Tick...tock.

I scan the room to see some people who haven't made a move to the sound. Quickly, I watch people sitting in their chairs, paying no mind to what I heard. The lanky boy in front of me still has his eyes locked onto his computer screen, and I begin to wonder if I had imagined it all. Maybe, this was my mind playing games with me.

I see Mrs. O'Leary walk by me as my eyes follow her towards the back end of the library. Her pace at a speed 10x faster than her usual walkthrough. What's the hurry? As she rushes by I feel the goosebumps creep in. She carries with her a cold breeze and a sense of urgency. It's not hard to register the look of hidden panic on her face. I turn my head back around towards the front desk. Through the window shield, I see the librarians gathered inside their office and a thought washes over me that I can't seem to shake. The noises. I try to replay the noises in my head. I've watched enough Criminal Minds to let paranoia sink in. I keep on listening for something to happen.

The group of sophomores behind me are oblivious to what's going on, if anything is going on. I turn my head back down towards the table as I recall the last few seconds, trying to decode this unwritten Morse code. The librarians, they know something. They're listening too. Waiting.

9:08am

BANG! A roar of screams echo throughout the school and I feel my pupils dilate. Shrieks and cries glue me to my chair. My legs unable to move. This is no longer a thought. I know what I heard. At this point, I feel the tension rise in the library as we all register the unmistakable sound of a gun-shot. Heads jerk up, and breaths are held. Tall, lanky boy has his headphones off now. Everyone too scared to make a sound. Mrs. O'Leary comes sprinting back to the front desk, and I see them scrambling to pick up the phone. I feel the sophomores behind me huddle closer together, and see some heads turn towards the front of the doors. Some people have already gotten their phones out to record, while some are either texting or calling. We're all playing this waiting game. I hear the friction of a chair against the carpet as a student pushes her chair back- she's getting ready to run. Instantly, I feel a wave of hushes urging everyone to be still. Within a matter of seconds, we hear the PA system turn on and we hear a firm and direct voice come on. "This school is on lockdown, please proceed to the nearest classroom. This is NOT a drill. I repeat we are on lock down, this is NOT a drill." We hear the PA system shut off, and my mind runs in panic, while my body stays frozen. This can't be happening.

The librarians start ordering students to seek cover under the tables close to the edge of the walls, and the room scatters in panic, some still too scared to move. Including me. I'm frozen in time.

Bang! "GUUNN!" I hear a shrieking voice scream at the top of their lungs. I imagine the power it takes to yell it out as I begin to feel as though my own voice is lost. My legs are begging me to move now.

9:10am

BANG! An electric shock surges throughout my whole body, freeing me from paralysation to take cover under the table. I see a number of students have done the same. The gunshots are getting louder now. And I feel a cloud of thunder hover over Forest Glade High. Like finding where lightning strikes, I count the number of seconds after each shot. The seconds are getting shorter and shorter. Like a thunderstorm, when you see lightning and hear the thunder clap, you know you've found yourself right under the eye. The shooter is not wasting time, and we're definitely in the eye of the storm.

All of my senses are heightened, listening for the next round of screams, wondering which classrooms have been hit. Wondering, how many more bodies have fallen without a scream. There's still so much left to the unknown.

Turning my head to all corners I notice the room is scattered now with bodies pressed against the walls of the room and people hiding under tables. The door to the presentation room remains shut and the librarians make their rounds to make sure everyone is safe and hidden. A wave of questions flood in as I try to silence my thoughts and fix my attention more closely to the front of the doors, praying no one walks through. I begin to examine every corner of the large glass windows that span left and right. The front doors are painted a deep blue, each with a small window pane, that I could not see through. I sit waiting, and everyone mirrors silence in their movements. In the dead of the room, I hear the door crack open from the presentation room. Mr. Henry's English class is still in there, and I think for a moment: what would be worse, to be in that room, or out in the open like the rest of us? From the corner of my eye, I see a dark figure from the front desk spring into a rush to get to the front doors. It's Ms. Monroe. She's putting up paper to cover the window pane then reaches to lock the doors.

9:13am

WHOOSH! The door swings open and Ms. Monroe stumbles back falling onto the ground. My whole body goes numb. I forget to breathe. He's here.

He raises the gun up towards Ms. Monroe and with nowhere to go, she accepts her fate. The gun is pointed at her and I plead with all of me that he doesn't shoot. I look from the gun to his face. I feel the hairs stand on the back of my neck. The gun is pointed at her. I feel my stomach drop to the floor. The gun is pointed at her! I resist the urge to scream. The gun is pointed at her! And he's staring at ME!

Click. BANG!