Guns n' Roses

It was just my luck that I'd be caught in the middle of this.

Bodies were dropping but I couldn't tell if it was out of fear or being wounded. My legs wouldn't move, my heart was pounding behind my ear drums. Then I saw them. Four men, carrying what I assume are rifles of some kind, masks adorning their faces. I could see they were yelling commands to the people ahead of me, but nothing reached my ears. More and more people around me dropped to the floor, and my breathing picked up. This couldn't happen now; in all of the situations, this is where I have a panic attack.

I'm stuck looking between the culprits, taking in every detail I could in this state. Trying to remind myself of the stupid coping skills embedded in my brain. 5 things I can see: the broken glass, the strobe lights, the frightened people around me, the four men, and, and I can't look away from them.

My chest starts to cave, over working and straining to deal with the amount of adrenalin coursing through me. Breath, you can't get out of this alive if you're unconscious. The tallest of the four, has seemed to notice my unmoving body, yelling in my direction. This is it, his gun raised, and he strode closer to my unwavering position. He was close enough now I could see his eyes peeking through the skull mask he was wearing, pools of ivory that screamed danger.

"Hey! Are you even listening? Are you deaf? Get on the fucking ground, now!"