The Aftermath

-Fire-

"Now class, after school I want you all to write a three paragraph essay about William Shakespeare and how his works effected the common day culture in the past and present. It is due in Friday, but-"
Suddenly the fire alarm rang, filling up my ears and making me jolt out of my slouched stupor a two hour literature class brought on. The screech of the alarm made every nerve ending in my body turn into a live wire. There was no warning of a fire drill today. Which could only mean...
"Class! Get into the line we practiced during fire drills. You know what to do-nobody horse around! This is real to the best of my knowledge!" The teacher shouted over the loud cry of the alarm.
We all got into a line just as she ordered, and filed out of the classroom. Soon we were outside, the cold like a fresh slap on the face. It was too dangerous to get our jackets, especially since our lockers were scattered on different levels.
I hugged my shoulders, shivering, as we crossed the street to the bakery. We kept walking until we were at a safe enough distance from the school. Everybody began to relax, and talk, but I remained tense, straining my ears to catch any sound of sirens. And of course, my ears didn't fail me. Soon a fire truck whipped around the corner. I remained oddly calm as I noticed a large column of smoke rising above the school. I wracked my brain, going through the list of things I had in my locker. Backpack, science book, jacket, a couple library books. Nothing of importance. I had my phone with me-that was the only thing that I needed.
I leaned against a tree, deciding that this was gonna take a while. I realized that I didn't really know what would happen from here. Something had happened of similar experience in third grade, when somebody had written bomb threats in a bathroom. The school had been evacuated while the police and their dogs searched the school for any bombs-they found none but we were sent back home for the rest of the day. Would school be canceled like then?
I tried to pinpoint the fire. It looked like it was coming from the third floor...I squinted my eyes. Third floor...Im not sure, but it looked like it's coming from the Mrs. Tyler's classroom. She taught Social Studies. How would a fire start there?
Then I froze.
Oh no.
No it couldn't be!
No no no no no no no. I shut my eyes fiercely, checking and rechecking to make sure.
Third hour class. She was in there. Makayla, my best friend, so close as if we were sisters-that was her class! Third hour, Mrs. Tyler!
Calm down, I thought. She's probably thinking the same about you. You got out didn't you? She'll be fine.
And then a scream interrupted the sirens, and then something, or someone, exploded out from a window, taking the screen with it. The thing was set ablaze, and in one second that seemed to last forever, I recognized that long blond hair. And in that one second that seemed to last forever, the horror was never ending. Because I knew who it was.
It was Makayla.