I haven’t opened my eyes. I haven’t opened my mouth. For all I know, I could be lying, face down, on the cafeteria floor. My friends could be dead. They could all be dead. Darkness. Darkness is all I can see. It overwhelms me. I have to wake up. I have to try. My eyelids feel like stones. Stones bearing down on me. Finally, feeling begins to run back through me.

Coldness. It flows through my fingers, my toes, my bones-my body. All cold. I can still feel my heart--though slowed--beating in my chest. I remember. I remember it. The shooting. I was with my friends having lunch. We were sitting at the usual lunch table in the school cafeteria. We were all laughing about what it would feel like to be dead. I never thought that five minutes--just five minutes--my school would be under attack. I never thought I would come this close to death.

I’m not on a cold, hard, tile floor. I’m on a soft, cushiony bed. How’d I get here? I groan. My neck is stiff. I blink my eyes open, to see that I’m in a white room. A white room with white sheets on a white bed. I haven’t seen so much white in my life. Not even in the snowstorms we get every year. Where am I? I can’t be in a hospital. It’s only been a couple minutes since I heard a gunshot.

A tall door on my right opens and a skinny, pale woman scurries in. I try to move, but my body won't let me. The woman washes her hands, muttering something to herself. All I hear is "coma" and "shot." My heart pounds. How long was I really out? I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. The woman walks towards me with a giant needle in her hand. Great. A needle. "Where am I?" I try to say. What I really say is "Waa mee yya?" I close my eyes. What's wrong with me?

The woman jumps back and pushes hair- black as the night sky- away from her face. "You're awake," she smiles slightly. I blink at her. "You must be very confused. My name's Laurie. I've been taking care of you," Laurie grins, apparently proud of herself.

"Hooo onggg?" Aarg! I can't even say "How long?" Why is she taking care of me, anyway? I didn't even get shot...right?

Laurie chuckles to herself. "Don't try to talk. It won't work," she shakes her head. "You have severe brain damage. You will have to relearn how to walk and talk. Just like a little baby," the corners of her mouth twitch, slightly. How does she find this funny? "You've been here for four years. You've been in a coma for four years." Four years? I missed every year of high school! Every. Single. Year! Laurie cocks her head and smiles...again. "Your family visits you every day. Your friends used to visit you, too. But now...I'm not sure what happened to them." Relief floods through me. My friends are okay.

Laurie's face gets dark. "Ten people were killed, including the person shooting. A different student had a knife. The student stabbed him to death. Self-protection, I guess," Laurie shakes her head.

The door opens again, and a tall, bulky figure walks in. He is wearing a long, black hooded sweatshirt, covering his face. Every inch of skin is covered. "Too bad," Laurie frowns. "I worked with that boy--the person shooting." Her smile inches up one side of her face. Almost like the smile of serial killers in horror movies.

Serial killers. I try to scramble out of the bed to escape, but I can't. My body just won't let me. I do all I can, and I let out a high pitched noise. "You weren't killed, though. You were on the list. Remember that girl, Martha? Long, blonde hair, bulky, some people called her dumb?" Laurie winks at me.

I slightly nod. Martha was my friend. She was my friend until she called me bossy. After that…I don’t know. I started hanging out with other people. We called her fat, ugly, stupid. We never thought it would end in her killing herself.

“Martha was close to me. Asked me to kill her. I always thought she was joking, until I found her hanging off the shower rod in the bathroom. In the bathroom next to our bedroom. You killed her, do you get that? You killed my baby sister, and I hate you for it.” Laurie’s eyes soften, thinking of her sister.

The reflection of myself in the mirror to the left startles me. Half my face is sagging; the other half…sad. I killed my best friend. I killed her.

Laurie sighs and wipes her cheek. “I don’t know why I didn’t just kill you. Wanted to let you know what you did, I guess.”

"I didn't get what I wanted that day. I always get what I want." Laurie looks at the black figure. "You know what to do." she tells him.

The man reaches inside his hoodie and pulls out a silver gun. Has a bullet ever been shot out of it? Was it ever used to kill someone? My heart is now racing and I can't begin to imagine what will happen. This can't be happening. It’s all taking place so fast. This is all a dream. It's just a-









Darkness.