Repressed

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Terror squeezed me until I couldn't breathe. People around me were shrieking and diving under tables. Another gunshot sounded, this time coming from right outside the cafeteria doors. I tried to force myself to hide, but I couldn't move. Jamie and Nicholas had both hid under the table, but Lewis was next to me, trying to pull me down.

"Get down," he hissed in my ear. I was frozen, unable to move at all. I watched in horror as the cafeteria doors swung open with a crash. A boy stood there with a gun. He looked around the cafeteria, swinging the gun wildly. He suddenly pointed the gun towards the back corner, where I was. He shot. I braced for impact, waiting for the bullet to strike me. Nothing came. Lewis suddenly fell onto the table. My body became unstuck, and I stood up. I suddenly felt the gun at the back of my jean waistband, and I pulled it out. I aimed it at the shooter. My hand didn't shake as I pulled the trigger. The shooter collapsed, and I dropped my gun, turning to Lewis. He was lying on the table, face up. Jamie and Nicholas had already pulled themselves out from under the table and were staring in abject horror at him. I grabbed on to Lewis's hand like a lifeline. I could hear screaming around me, and Nicholas began shaking Lewis's shoulders. The world slowed to a crawl as Lewis blinked, making eye contact with me. I saw his mouth move.

"I'm sorry," he breathed.

"For what?" I begged.

He opened his mouth to try and speak, but no sound came out. His eyes met mine one last time. His hand dropped from mine as his eyes became lifeless.

The world sped up again as I crumpled onto his body, sobbing. People were still screaming, but it sounded like a lot of them were now crying as well. I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder, pulling me away from Lewis's body.

"You need to come with me," a man said. He was dressed in a police uniform. I numbly let myself be led outside and pushed in a police car, not questioning why.

I was suddenly in a police station. I felt myself being walked to a back room. The police officer pointed to one of the chairs at a table. "Sit."

I sat. The officer sat across from me at the table. "Why did you have a gun?"

"What gun?" I asked blankly.

"The one you used to shoot Scott Landon."

"Who's Scott Landon?"

"The person who was shooting up your school."

"There was a shooting? Are my friends okay? Is Lewis okay?"

The officer spoke into a small device at his shoulder. "He seems to be in shock. He isn't in a fit state for questioning."

"Is Lewis okay, Officer?"