The Closet

Lisa heard the screams and tried to make herself as small as she could The closet she was hiding in was pitch black, not much bigger than a phone booth and smelled of bleach. But for now, it was her only refuge from the server that reigned just beyond the darkness of her sanctuary. The sheer panic that owned Lisa in the moments leading up to now had waned as she realized the frequency of the screams from the nearby hallways had decreased in the last few minutes. But she was still every bit as scared as when the whole thing began. She could hear her own breathing and wondered how loud it may sound to the outside world

Lisa hadn't heard gunshon for a while. Five minutes. Maybe more. She couldn't know. for sure. The shooting began without warning and tumed the school into chaos sometime during second period when Lisa was in the library. She had left her cell phone in the reference section when it began and for the life of her, she couldn't remember how she got here or how long she'd been in hiding. The bell signaling the end of second period hadn't sounded, yet. Or had it? Maybe she had missed it amidst the screams. She wondered if it was all over perhaps somewhere in a distant corner of the school students and teachers rejoiced and hugged each other knowing there was nothing left to fear Fear, in all of its mental and physical anguish, was still very much alive in Lisa. She knew she couldn't get up. Fear had paralyzed her

She had fled the library and made her way through the 700 hallway when it began. The hall was infused with kinetic horror. An aimless frenzy of kids and adults bound in a reckless pact of mass confusion, like an anthill that had been trounced by a giant with a deadly weapon. No one knew what to do. They just ran. Lisa couldn't run. The fear had taken hold and wouldn't allow her to move any faster than a sloth in a waking dream.

As the halls thinned of people, Lisa slithered her way to the nearest exit. She turned the corner at Mr. Barlowe's room and instantly froee. At the end of the next hall stood a hooded figure dressed in black from head to toe. The figure held a rifle

Lina was paralyzed. In a moment the figure would see her and end what had begun with a hail of bullets she knew she'd never escape. And so she retreated back down the 700 hallway and dipped into the janitor's closet next to Mr. Barlowe's room. She expected the