jihyyonesarang2
They said violence never came without warning.
That was a lie.
Sometimes it arrived quietly-
in school bells, unfinished homework, shared lunches, and laughter that felt permanent.
Sometimes it waited.
The building stood still in the dark, lights humming faintly overhead. A drop of blood slid across the concrete floor, slow and deliberate, like time itself was hesitating.
Someone was breathing hard.
"Please," a voice whispered. "You don't have to do this."
Footsteps echoed closer. Calm. Unhurried.
"You're right," another voice replied softly.
"We don't."
A pause.
Then a gun cocked.
"But we will."
The shot rang out, sharp and final.
Far away, in a place that still believed in ordinary days, a school bell rang-signaling the end of class. Students poured into hallways, unaware that somewhere, a line had been crossed.
And once crossed-
there was no going back.