Part 1
I wake up to the sound of my twin brother Chase bumbling around in the bathroom. I glance over at my alarm clock. 6:30? We don’t have to be ready for school for another hour. Why is he up? I groggily grab my phone from my nightstand, pull my covers over my head, and begin my morning routine, starting with social media. As I’m scrolling through I see a news article about a school shooting. Everyday I hear about a new shooting somewhere in our country. It breaks my heart to know that so many lives have been taken and ruined. It’s scary to think about. But I know my school isn’t in danger. I can’t even imagine a shooting at Grass Hill High. My school is a pretty good one. Nice buildings, good teachers, generally kind students. I continue to get lost in the world of social media, until my stomach starts to grumble. 6:55. I toss my blankets to the side and hop out of bed. I plug my phone in then go to the bathroom. Chase is still in there, putting an unhealthy amount of gel into his hair.
“Can I use the bathroom now? You’ve been in here for the past half hour. I take less time to get ready than you, and that’s saying something.” I say to him.
“Just let me get this one hair in place…” He respond while staring in the mirror.
“Your hair looks fine, now go.” I say as I shoo him out of the bathroom.
I continue with my morning routine. Use the bathroom, brush my teeth, do my hair, get dressed. Same thing everyday. I grab my phone and walk downstairs to the kitchen. The news is playing on the T.V., even though nobody is watching it. Mom and Dad probably left it on before they went to work. My dad is lawyer, and usually leaves the house long before I wake up. Mom is a doctor, so same thing.
“Another school shooting occurred yesterday, at Biggs High. 30 were injured, and 10 are dead. Here is an interview with one of the students who attends Biggs High, and experienced the shooting.” The news anchor announces.
I immediately stop in my tracks. Biggs High? That can’t be right. It’s only a 25 minute drive from here. My heart starts to beat rapidly and I can feel myself getting lightheaded. I never imagined something as horrible as that could happen anywhere near my city. My bad thoughts start racing through my mind. What if a shooter comes to our school? Could that happen to us? It happened at Biggs High, who’s to say it won’t happen to Grass Hill? The kitchen starts to spin so I grab onto the counter to steady myself. One of my biggest fears is experiencing a school shooting. Even thinking about it is terrifying. Chase walks into the kitchen, and sees me “spiraling”, as we call it. He immediately turns off the T.V. and walks over to me.
“Don’t worry, Carrie. We are safe. That would never happen to our school. You don’t have anything to worry about. Trust me. Okay?” He says as he wraps me in a hug.
“Okay.” I respond. He’s right. I always jump to conclusions. I know I’m safe. I take a deep breath, letting all the negative thoughts out. We eat a quick breakfast then drive off to school.
Just like every other average Tuesday, I go to my classes. Each one more boring than the next, with the exception of Math, one of the only subjects I don’t despise. The bell rings, and now it’s time for my least favorite class: English. I don’t have anything against my teacher, I actually like Ms. Hudson a lot. I just hate English. I hate reading, writing, all of it. But at least I get to spend it with my best friend, Julie. I walk down the hall and into the class brightly lit classroom, and sit down in my seat. Julie walks in a few minutes later and takes her seat next to me. We talk about how boring our classes are until Ms. Hudson quiets us down so we can resume reading our book, I think it’s called Battle and Tranquility or something, I don’t know, and don’t really care to know. 12:15. It’s like every minute lasts an eternity. Why can’t it be lunch already? I wish I had the power of telekinesis, so I could change the clock to read 12:30 and finally leave this class. I can’t wait for lunch. After lunch, I have my favorite class, Leadership. I start to fall asleep as Ms. Hudson reads aloud.
Then I hear her say, “Alright class, you may get your stuff together. Don’t forget to do tonight’s homework, I will be expecting to have it tomorrow in class, on time.”
I look up at the clock to see it reads 12:28. Finally. I throw my notebook and books into my bag and zip it up. I walk over to Julie and Will, another one of my good friends, so we can leave for lunch. 12:30. The bell rings, indicating it’s finally time. As we start leaving the class I notice faint noises from the quad. Unfamiliar noises, almost like screams. I’m sure it’s just the stampede of loud, talking kids as they walk to lunch. We keep walking when suddenly, I hear yelling near our classroom. I look at Julie, and she’s just as confused as I am. I wonder what’s going on? The sounds of teachers shouting at kids, loud footsteps of people running and classroom doors shutting fills the school. Kids are sprinting to classrooms, banging on doors. It’s complete chaos. I ask a boy racing by about what is going on. All I can hear is “shooter”. What? That can’t be right. I must have heard them wrong. I know there isn’t a shooter on campus. That’s impossible. I try asking others passing by but they don’t respond to me.
“Do you know what’s happening?” Will asks me.
“Nom I’m just as confused as you are.” I respond.
I’m about to go back in the classroom and ask Ms. Hudson if she has any idea, when her desk phone starts ringing. She runs over and picks it up. Her facial expression goes from puzzled to distraught. I can’t make out what she is saying. As she hangs up the phone, she quickly turns around.
“Everyone! I need everyone inside now!” She yells.
What? Why? What is happening? I’m very confused, and want to know what is going on. We quickly shuffle back inside while she calls out for kids walking by, telling them to go into her room too. She still hasn’t told us what is happening. My classmates, a few random kids, Julie, Will, and I stand around. The sound of small murmurs fills the room.
BANG
Everyone jumps. What was that? I look around the class to see the other high schoolers have the same perplexed look on their face as I do. Was it just the construction workers, who are building our new library? Maybe they dropped something? Yes, that must be it. But why would kids be running into classrooms when it’s lunchtime? And why did that kid say “shooter”? There couldn’t actually be…
“This is not a drill, I repeat, this is not a drill!” The principal’s distraught voice says on the loud speaker. “We are under lockdown, there is a shooter on the premises, teachers please follow the instructions located in your emergency binder!”
What? No. This can’t be happening. No way. Not to our school.
BANG
“Everyone drop your bags and go to the corner, now! Huddle in as close as you can and don’t say a word!” Ms. Hudson reads off the instructions as she pushes in the last few stragglers walking by, then shuts the door and locks it. She quickly turns off the lights and closes all the windows and blinds.
My heart is beating a mile a minute. I’m completely paralyzed. The room starts to spin, and I feel like I’m going to faint. This really cannot be happening. Not here. I look around at the people dropping their stuff and running to the corner, but it’s like everything is in slow-motion. Voices are muffled. Just this morning while reading and watching the news about the shootings I told myself that it would never happen to us. My biggest fear can’t be happening. This is feels so unreal, like I’m stuck in an extremely realistic nightmare. I feel someone tugging on my hand, bringing me back to reality.
“Caroline. Caroline!” It’s Julie. “Come on! Don’t be scared, it’s okay. But you need to come with me, now! Hurry!”
I let her pull me over to where the other scared teens are sitting. I’m shaking, still not fully realizing what was happening. I sit down next to Julie and Will. She holds me tight. I can feel my eyes start to well up with tears. Once she has done everything on the instructions, a terrified Ms. Hudson joins us in the corner, whispering to us that we are safe. But at that moment I can’t help but think about what happened in all of those other shootings at high schools around the country. At Biggs High. Those students were probably told the exact same thing, and look what happened to them.
BANG
I jump at the deafening sound, then rest my head on my knees pulled into my chest, my eyes filling with tears. The room is completely silent.
Suddenly I hear loud knocking on our door, and the voice of a girl.
“Please let me in! I’m stuck out here, please!” Someone is out there?
Ms. Hudson looks at the door, but doesn’t get up. What is she doing? Why isn’t she opening the door for her?
“Please! Open the door!”
I’m not sure why she isn’t opening it, but if Ms. Hudson won’t open it for her, I will. I can’t just let someone be stuck out there while there is a shooter walking around!
BANG
“Please! Please, someone!” I can hear how terrified she is.
I shakily start to get up.
“Caroline! Sit down.” Ms. Hudson whispers.
“No!” I whisper back. “There is someone stuck out there!” More banging and pleading from the girl outside.
“Carrie, please sit down.” Will urgently whispers.
“I can’t!” I respond.
“Sit. Down. I cannot let you open that door, and potentially put all of us in danger. We don’t know for sure that she isn’t the shooter.” Ms. Hudson demands.
I know she is right. I sit back down and cry as I hear the fast footsteps of the girl running down the hall, and around the corner to the next set of classrooms.
BANG
We all jump, including our teacher. What if…what if that girl just got shot? I cover my face with my hands, trying to mute my sobs. I really hope that girl is okay. I look to my left and right to see everyone with tears running down their faces, even Will. I grab his hand and rest my head on his shoulder.
BANG
BANG
With every gunshot, we all jump. The ear-splitting noise repeatedly goes off. When will this end? I look around the classroom to see some kids are texting their parents. I completely forgot about my mom and dad. They must be terrified out of their minds. I slowly reach into my pocket and grab my phone, so I can text them. I turn on the screen to see at least 30 texts from my mom, dad, and brother. Oh, no. Chase! I start to panic. How could I forget about him? What if the shooter got to his classroom? I’m spiraling again. Tears start rolling down my cheeks faster and faster. I unlock my phone and immediately text Chase asking if he’s alright. He means everything to me. He’s my best friend. I can’t lose him.
I then text my parents, telling them I’m okay. For now, I think. Both of them text back right away, saying they are on their way to the school now. I still can’t believe this is happening. I notice Julie shaking.
“We’re going to be okay, Jules. We’re going to be okay.” I reassure her as I hold her.
But I honestly don’t know if we are going to come out of here alive.
We are still stuck huddled in the corner. There hasn’t been anymore
gunshots. 1:21. I don’t know how long we will be in here, but the suspense of not knowing whether or not the shooter will walk through our door makes this all the more terrifying. Suddenly, a loud crackling comes on the loud speaker for a few seconds, and then silence.
Deadly silence.
All I can hear are the shaky breaths and quite sobs of my peers. I feel like I can’t breath. The classroom starts to spin. Julie squeezes my hand, taking me out of my spell, and repeats the same non-reassuring words I said to her before.
“We are going to be okay.”
I nod, then close my eyes. I imagine the happiest memory I have. My parents, brother and I are feeding the baby ducks at the pond and park near our house. Then we go to a small picnic table and sit down, eating juicy watermelon and drinking too-sweet lemonade. We are laughing, from my dad’s terrible jokes. My brother and I race over to the playground and swing on the tall swing set. We compete with each other, seeing who could swing higher. I pump my legs and go higher and higher. I can’t stop smiling and laughing as I watch the sunset. I feel like I’m unstoppable.
Right now, I feel the exact opposite. Powerless. There is nothing I can do or say to stop what’s happening. I open my eyes, then turn on my phone again. No response from my brother. He’s probably fine, I tell myself. 1:56.
BANG
That one sounded closer. The shooter is nearing our classroom.
My heart beats faster. I slowly let out a shaky breath. I lift my eyes off of my phone to see the frightened look on Ms. Hudson’s face. Her cheeks are flushed and wet from the tears we all had pouring down our faces. When she sees me staring at her, she forces a slight smile to appear on her face and whispers: “It’s okay, we will be alright.”
I want to believe her, I really do. But how am I supposed to believe I am ever going to be “alright” again, after this traumatizing day?
It’s now 2:15. We haven’t heard any gunshots in a while. I’m surprised the police aren’t here by now. Unless they are. I’m not sure. It’s like I’m blocked out from the world. I notice my phone screen faintly light up. My mom has texted me, saying my dad and her are now at the school. But what if they get hurt? I’ve already heard multiple gunshots. Who knows how many kids are injured? I won’t let them get injured too.
“Please stay in the car until the police come, unless they are already here. I don’t want you, or Dad getting hurt.” I respond.
“They are here, but we will still keep our distance. We’re safe. Don’t be scared, you will be okay.”
At least my parents are safe. But what about Chase? I go to our text thread to see he still hasn’t responded. He hasn’t even seen it yet. I feel a lump forming in my my throat. Chase’s classroom is close to mine. We heard a gunshot, and it sounded like it was close. What if the shooter was in his class? What if Chase…no. I can’t think like that. Maybe his phone died. Yeah, that must be it. I close my eyes again and rest my head on Julie’s shoulder. I start to notice how silent the room is. Aside from the quiet sobs of classmates, and the even more quiet taps of fingers on phones, there isn’t a sound.
BEEP
My heart nearly jumps out of my chest. 2:30. It was just the bell. If none of this horrible mess had a happened, we would have been leaving to go home. I would have been going off to soccer practice, preparing for a tournament coming up. Every week, I look forward to soccer practice. I should be on my way there, but instead I’m stuck in a dark and cold classroom, huddled in a corner with my crying best friends, and 30 other sobbing kids. Why is this happening?
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
I look up, and around the class to see if anyone else is hearing the footsteps in the hall. I see wide, confused, and terrified eyes looking around like I am.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
The footsteps are getting louder and louder. Could it be…the footsteps of the shooter, walking towards the classroom?
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
The steady footsteps continue down the long hall. Louder and louder. A million awful thoughts are running through my mind. I feel like a giant weight is crushing my chest and I have cried so much my shirt is nearly soaked through.
Tap.
The steps slow down.
Tap.
I can hear them approaching our door.
Tap.
I hear every person in our room, including myself, holds their breath. My heart is pounding hard in my chest. I stay completely still, not making a sound. I shut my eyes, bringing my tears to a halt. I hold both Julie and Will’s hands tightly. And then I pray. I pray that the shooter will walk past our door and continue on their insane journey of destroying innocent lives. I pray that the police will hurry up and stop this madness already. I pray for Chase.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
I hear the shooter walk past our door and down the hall. I let out a big, long, sigh. Other breaths follow mine. I glance around to see lips mouthing “thank you”. I loosen my grip on my friend’s hands.
But this isn’t over yet. The shooter is still here on school property. The police haven’t caught them yet. 2:45. Despite it feeling like decades have passed, we have only been in here for about three hours. When I read about the other school shootings that have happened recently, the articles say the kids were in lockdown for several hours. This nightmare is no where near over.
BANG
BANG
No where near.
I’m texting my mom, asking what is happening outside with the police. Why haven’t they come into the school yet? Are they just waiting outside while we suffer in cramped huddles, not knowing where the shooter will strike next? And who knows how many people are hurt. Mom responds, saying the police and S.W.A.T team are strategizing how to get the kids in each classroom out without alerting the shooter.
“Do you know how much longer we will be stuck in here?” I ask.
“Hold on, let me ask an officer.” She replies.
As I await her response, I set my phone down, lean back on the wall, and look up at the ceiling. I just want this to be over. I still can’t believe this is real. I always thought a shooter would never come here, that we were always safe. But now I realize that this could happen anytime, anywhere. Even though I thought I had cried every last tear I had in me, a few more fall out. My phone lights up and I instantly grab it.
“The officers say they don’t know for sure how much longer, but accounting for all the kids they have to get out of each classroom, they estimate another hour and a half or longer.”
The wind gets knocked out of me. Another hour and a half? All I want is to find my brother, hug him and know he is okay. I want to run to my parents and hug them both. I want to get out of here. Maybe I could just get up and quietly go to my brother’s classroom. Once he heard my voice he would let me in and I could grab him. We would run as fast as we could away from the school and to our parents.
BANG
The gunshot pulls me out of my fantasy. That idea is crazy. I know that I can’t do that. I could get both myself and my brother injured or worse. And I couldn’t leave Julie or my other friends behind. Besides, Ms. Hudson would never let me leave. I just need to sit here and trust the police will get us out soon. 3:04. I close my eyes, and wait.
3:36. And wait.
4:13. Still waiting.
4:37. It’s been very silent. Which in a way, is a good thing. At least nobody else hasn’t gotten hurt, yet. But the thing about it being so silent, is the shooter could be anywhere in this school. They could be right outside our classroom door for all I know. I’m just hoping the police have started getting kids out of here yet. I decide to text my dad and ask him.
“Are any kids out of the school yet?” I text.
He immediately responds.
“Yes, the police have gotten around 2,000 kids out of the school.” 2,000? Wow, this is moving along faster than I thought. I glimmer of hope strikes up inside me. I believe I’ll make it out of here alive. I can’t wait to hug my parents, and more importantly, Chase. I wonder if anyone was injured?
“How many people are injured? And is Chase with you?”
The grey bubble with dots indicating my dad is typing pops up. A minute has passed. The bubbly disappears. I pray the number is low. Why is he taking so long to respond? I turn off my phone, turn to Julie and ask if she is okay. She has been texting with her parents this entire time. She turns towards me with a glassy look in her eyes. She just stares, with tears falling down her cheeks.
“What happened?” I whisper.
She is about to say something when my phone lights up. I quickly grab it. As I read the text my heart pounds faster and faster until it completely stops.
“Out of the 2,000 they have rescued, 50 are injured. 10 dead, one of which is your principal. The other being Chase.”
I drop my phone. The clatter of it dropping on the laminate flooring may have been the loudest sound in this silence, but I can’t hear it. I can’t hear anything but a loud ringing. I start shaking. Not a single tear escapes from my eyes. And then the floodgates open and I start to sob. I try as hard as I can to not make a sound, fearing the shooter may be near, by taking deep, shaky breaths. Julie grabs me into a hug, and soon after Will joins. Ms. Hudson puts a hand on my knee. I let them hold me as I cry long and hard. He can’t be gone. This can’t be true. My brother can’t be gone. Chase can’t be dead.
I’m still bawling and shaking while my friends hold me. I can’t seem to wrap my mind around the fact that my brother, the person who meant the most to me in this world, is really gone. He was such an amazing person and brother, why did he have to be taken? I can feel the anger bubbling inside me. I want to scream and yell in pain. But I know I can’t.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I quickly turn my head to the door. Is that the shooter? No, it couldn’t be. Why would they knock?
“This is the police, we are coming in. Please be as silent as you can. We will then proceed to escort you guys out of the premise.” I want to be happy, and think this traumatic experience is over. But now we face the hard part. Getting out.
The police slowly unlock the door and enter. I can see they are armed, so we should be safe while exiting. I force myself to stop crying as we silently exit the room. As we crouch down and walk down the long hall I realize I have to face my devastated parents. Knowing that I won’t leave this school with my brother breaks my heart. I feel another lump forming in my throat. But I make sure to not let a single teardrop out of my eyes. We continue walking. Finally, I see the front of the school. I see my mourning parents. Once we are off school property and on the grassy area next to the parking lot I start running. I run to my parents. We embrace in a big hug.
“He can’t be gone.” I say, between sobs.
My parents just hug me tighter.
I stare out the window as we drive home. It pains me that Chase isn’t sitting next to me. But my eyes are completely dry. I’ve cried every last tear inside of me. All I do is watch the trees pass by. Watch the kids walking home after a normal day at school. Watch the clouds forming in the sky. I don’t think about this day. I don’t want to think about this day. My mind is completely blank. I just want to go to sleep. As I am about to drift off we pull into our driveway. My mom parks and turns off the car. None of us move. We sit there. Nobody says a word. I’m exhausted, so after a while of sitting I slowly open the car door. My parents follow after me. We walk inside our home. I feel horrible being in there without Chase. I drag myself up the stairs to my room. As I walk down the hall, I look into his room. The bed is unmade from this morning, clothes scattered on the floor. Patches, our cat, is lying on his desk. He loved Chase the most out of the family. When he sees me in the doorway, Patches hops down and greets me. I walk into Chase’s rooms and plop down on the ground and pet him. Patches moves away from me and glances around. He seems to be looking for Chase. The thought that he doesn’t know he will never see Chase again crushes me. I start to weep. Patches cuddles up in my lap, attempting to comfort me. I pick him up and carry him to my room. I lie on my bed and let Patches go. He lies down next to me as I wet my pillow with more tears. I stare up at the ceiling, not thinking about anything. Not feeling anything, like I’m numb. My heavy eyes start to shut. I drift off to sleep.
My brother and I are playing at the park as our parents watch us from a park bench. We hop on the swings and start pumping our legs. We go higher and higher. I’m laughing as the wind blows through my hair. I can hear the laughs of Chase too. I look at the sunset as I continue swinging. When I look back down at the ground I see a black figure in the distance. The figure walks closer and closer. There is something in its hand. I realize it’s a gun. My smile disappears instantly and I start screaming, warning my parents and brother. But I can’t hear anything except for a loud gunshot. I look to my right and see my brother, lying on the ground unmoving. I yell for my parents but they seem to have disappeared. The figure starts running towards me. I stop the swing and start running as fast as I can. Another gunshot.
I scream and wake up, heavily breathing and shaking. My parents come rushing in.
“There was a figure…and Chase…bang…” I ramble between shaky breaths.
“Oh, honey.” My mom says as she sits on my bed, pulling me into a hug.
“It was just a nightmare, Caroline.” My dad adds, joining in on the hug.
“But…it wasn’t a nightmare. It really happened. Chase..he’s really..” Dead.
My parents start to cry along with me. We all sit there for a while, and mourn over my brother. That nightmare…it felt so real. In a way, it was. Yesterday was, to say the least, the worst day of my life. And the thought that it was the last day of Chase’s life brings me more pain than I can take. I cry harder, snot dripping down my nose and tears rolling down my cheeks. Why did he have to be taken from us? I could tell Chase would have had a great life ahead of him. He was smart. He had good grades, scholarships for college lined up. I wish more than anything it was someone else that was shot. I know that’s selfish. I wish it were me instead of him. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. He was my best friend. I don’t know how I can go on without him. I keep crying until I can’t cry anymore. My parents let go as I grab\ the tissue box and wipe my face. I hand it to them.
“Enough crying. We need to stop and start planning Chase’s funeral. We weren’t able to say goodbye to him before he died, but at least we can at his funeral.”
“You’re right, Carrie.” My dad says as he grabs a tissue. “We will start planning. But we will do it, not you. It’s hard enough that you had to experience what you did yesterday.”
Mom and Dad get up off my bed and walk downstairs. I don’t know what to do with myself now. I lie down under my covers. I’m exhausted from not getting much sleep last night, but I can’t let myself rest. I’m terrified of having another nightmare like that. So I grab my phone and call Julie. We talk for a while, until she has to leave. 1:45. Still 11 hours left of today. And then another 24 tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. All without Chase. I curl into a ball and sob. My head is pounding and I feel nauseous. How am I going to do this, life, without him?
Right as I feel myself starting to closing my eyes, I hear my phone ringing. I turn over and grab it to see who’s calling. Will.
“Hello?” I say, trying to conceal my sniffles.
“Hey. I just wanted to see how you were doing.” He responds.
“I’m…as fine as I can be in this situation.”
“Yeah. I’m really sorry about your brother. I really liked him, he was a cool guy.”
“Thanks, and yeah he was. How are you doing?”
“I could definitely be better.”
We kept talking for a while longer. Once we said our goodbyes and hung up, I set my phone back on the nightstand. I realize that I’m starving. I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday morning and it’s 4:15. I get out of bed and leave my room. Seeing my brother’s room as I walk by makes my heart hurt. I stand still, staring into his room, starting to remember all the times we would play video games on his console or listen to music while drawing. I continue walking down the hall and downstairs to the kitchen. As I grab the handle of the fridge, I hear sobs and voices coming from my parent’s office. I quietly walk over to hear what they are saying.
“Why, Rob, did our little boy have to be taken from us?” My mom says to my dad.
“I don’t know, honey. There is no good reason. Thank god, Caroline wasn’t killed too.”
“I don’t know how I would live if they were both gone.”
I didn’t really think about how my parents are feeling right now. They must be devastated. They will never watch him graduate or walk off to college. Never see Chase get married, or be grandparents to his kids. For once, I don’t feel like crying. I feel like screaming. I’m not sad, I’m angry. Angry that something like this happened to my school. Angry that Chase is gone, and will never come back. Angry that things will never be the same.
