How I ran away

How I played

First the bangs. Eight in total. They all hit at the same exact second.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

Time freezes. The glass is suspended in midair for a moment. A split second. And then it explodes in, looking like water mist at the end of the waterfall, only more murderous. Crash. The sound of shattering glass echoes throughout the sudden silence of the classroom. The glass pieces rain down inside, like hail just harder and sharper than any hail I've ever known. I'm lucky, my seat is situated just beside the window so I don't get hit by the glass in full force like those farther out when the glass explodes in. Although there is a nasty cut on my arm. The pain doesn't register yet. All I can feel is shock. This all happens in less than seconds. The glass shatters in and then silence as the last pieces drop to the floor. Silence.

Utter silence.

And then chaos erupts. The bangs, they were gunshots. The giant window that covered the entire length of the western wall- gone into pieces scattered throughout the room and piercing several students skin. Cries. Shouts. What is going on? Ms. Dee, the teacher is in her first year of teaching this year. Tears streak her face and I see blood on her hands. Several desks are overturned although I don't remember seeing them fall.

And that's when it happens. Our attention is fixated on the window-frames-with-no-panes but the attack comes from the door. The door is opposite the window.

Slam! The door bursts open and a man jumps in. His face is covered as is his body. He wears only black. Another man follows him in. And then another. Within seconds eight men surround the perimeter of the room. A particularly burly one blocks the algebra example on the board that I had been copying into my notebook seconds earlier. The half copied example stares at me from my notebook, now dotted with beads of glass. I guess I'll never know what X equals.

All of the men have guns. I should have noticed this earlier. They hang on their sides. At least none of them dare to wield them.

Everybody is confused and I pretend to not understand what is going on. My classmates are not used to this. Although, experience aside, I am deathly afraid. A single well-aimed shot can have me dead on the floor. It will be through my head. That way there's not even a chance to save me. But I will not get shot. They didn't come to kill-at least not right away-they want something and I have a feeling I know what it is.

"Step forward and we won't kill everyone." I never heard such a cruel voice in which the words are now growled. I can't imagine a face ugly enough to compensate with it and all I have to supply my imagination is the black mask in which the man hides behind. Just like he hides behind my friends. He knows I will as soon as die myself if he threatened me. But that wouldn't help him in retrieving the information I have.

There is a puzzled look on everybody's faces mixed in with the fear. Should I give myself up so easily? Nobody makes a sound. They are not foolish enough to speak up.

The man locks his hands on the gun. His hold tightens with each passing second. His eyes swiftly pass through the room. I feel them on me. Sense them narrow slightly. This man has a temper. He doesn't like to be made to wait. A small injury wouldn't stop me from speaking, would it? If he takes a shot at my leg I would still be alive to give information. He lifts the gun. It is a heavy gun although he lifts it with ease.

And that's when I make my move. I run. Twenty desks, mere obstacles in my path. Nothing more than that. I passed the obstacle course in training more than once; this is just another game like that. My eyes narrow and I'm only seeing this as just another training exercise. I weave past a tangle of desks and jump over another that fell.