Coden and I sat in that closet for what felt like hours.
Neither of us spoke, not a single word. The darkness held our silence, weighing it over our heads. My arms wrapped themselves tightly around my knees, my head dug into my knees, and I breathed steadily. The silence felt so wrong. I couldn’t hear footsteps, couldn’t hear victims screaming. That should have comforted me; we were far enough away from the turmoil that we could enjoy a bit of silence. However, it didn’t comfort me. It did quite the opposite. My shoulders were tense, and my stomach rolled uneasily.
Maybe it wasn’t the silence that had me on edge. Maybe it was that my thoughts were able to roam freely within the quietness. They were able to torture me as I pleased with no remorse for how they made me feel.
Flashes of Rosalie bleeding on the floor passed by. Flashes of Valarie closing her eyes. Flashes of Coden dying while trying to protect us all. Flashes of Al coming at me, ready to cut my face off and chop me into pieces.
Flashes of me not grabbing Dan’s gun.
Why hadn’t I taken it? It was in my reach, and Dan was distracted by the pain I inflicted in his hand. I could have grabbed it. But I didn’t. Instead I ran for it, leaving the bad guy with the weapon. How much blood would be on my hands now? How many teenagers would be killed tonight because of the mistake I made? How many more people were going to die?
This was what I meant by my thoughts torturing me. Before we reached this closet, Dan’s gun hadn’t even entered my mind besides the fact that he could shoot us with it. But now? Now the scene had replayed itself over and over again, and I could see what I should have done. Sure, Coden told me to run, but I had time before that to grab his weapon. I’d stabbed his hand for crying out loud! I should have grabbed it while I was still down.
But I didn’t.
“I can’t believe I didn’t grab the gun,” I whispered, taking a mental knife and slicing through the suffocating silence. “I should have—”
“You didn’t have time,” Coden replied.
“Yes I did,” I argued. “Instead of stabbing him, I could have just grabbed the gun and shot him or something.”
“Do you know how to work a gun?”
I paused before answering. “No.”
“Exactly.” Coden sighed. “And it doesn’t matter, anyway. Right before we ran, I saw another gun in his pocket. And who’s to say that he doesn’t have any more weapons hidden away? We should have known that the weapons they were holding weren’t the only ones they had.” He sighed again. “At least you injured him.”
I blinked. Dan had more than one gun? Oh god. I thought we were screwed when it was just one weapon. And what about Samantha? How many knives did she have? Did she have any other types of weapons that we couldn’t see? And what about Al? Sure, we got his knife, but were there any other weapons we could have grabbed?
Maybe some other kids had searched his body. I doubted they did, but hopefully they checked for a weapon. That way at least someone else had a way to protect his or herself.
“When do we leave?” I whispered, deciding to let the subject of my incompetence drop. “We have to find Rosalie and Valarie.”
I glanced to my right, where I knew Coden was seated beside me. I wished it wasn’t so dark. Seeing his determined expression would have been comforting.
“We can leave in a minute or two,” he murmured. “It’s quieted down, so no one should be around here.”
I nodded and we fell silent again. I folded my lips together and stared blindly into the darkness, stomach aching. I wanted to leave this closet and find Rosalie and Valarie. Not having Rosalie in my sight threatened to send me in a panic. I felt responsible for her, like if she died it would be on my watch—it would be my fault.
