"...And please keep each of us safe today. Also, if it's not too much to ask, can you help me get an A on my trigonometry test today? In Jesus' name, amen." A chorus of "Amens" rippled through the crowd as the high schoolers released their friendly grip on their friends' hands. RIIIIIIIIING! The shrill ring of the school bell pierced the warm September air and the students dispersed like frightened ants.

"See You at the Pole" was an annual meeting of Christian students around a flagpole, as we each prayed for whatever leapt to mind. Even though I was an innocent, homeschooled ten-year-old without the slightest idea what "Trigonmetry" even was (the study of tricycles, maybe?), this "big kid" tradition made me feel safe, knowing that God had His hand upon the school.

"Ok, Broderick, let's go home and do school," My mother took me by the hand and led me to our car. As the minivan sputtered to life, I glanced out the window, watching the girl who had said the final prayer laughing with her friends.

"She's pretty," I grinned.

My mom laughed. "Get back to her when she's twenty-seven and you're twenty."

I don't think my mother realized I was becoming a man in the backseat, developing my first crush as fantasies of me proposing to the tall girl rushed through my prepubescent brain. Little did I know that that romantic thought would be completely impossible by the time the sun went down that night.

A few hours later, after working on math for what seemed like decades, the clock struck eleven, filling the house with its pleasant chime. I knew what that meant: Lunch time. Not just any lunch either: Beef flavored Top Ramen. Before I had eaten it so much I had grown to hate it, Top Ramen basically took second place only to Reading Rainbow in order of things I looked forward to. Saliva rushed to my mouth as I watched my mom walk to the pantry to start cooking the food of the gods. Before she could reach the pantry, however, the phone rang, making me jump out of my fantasies of bathing in Ramen.

"Hello?" My mother spoke into the telephone. In a second, all the blood rushed from her already normally white face. She ran into her room and shut the door.

I turned to my sister, Josephina, my stomach letting our cries of hunger. "What about lunch?" I asked. We both dashed to the room my mom had so suddenly shut herself in, yelling "We want Top Ramen." A few more minutes, and I was positive I would die from hunger.

"Not now," Came the trembling voice of a woman who had just received dreadful news. The curiosity of what was going on was eclipsed by my need for Top Ramen.

"You said we could have Ramen!" I yelled, almost in tears.

After a few more minutes of Josephina and I whining, my poor mom could take no more. She thrust open the door and cried "There's a man at your sisters' school with a gun and he says he's planted a bomb!" The door slammed shut in my face.

With those seventeen words, all thoughts of instant noodles vanished. While Josephina and I were homeschooled, our two older sisters attended Platte Canyon High School. And now, the very school that we had prayed for protection in hours before was under attack.

The fear in the air was tangible. Without a word, Josephina and I crept downstairs and plopped down in front of the TV. We switched on the set in order to get our minds off of the horror that was happening five miles away. After minutes of mindlessly channel surfing, the familiar voice shouting "Arrr ya, ready kids?" emitted from the television and we settled upon viewing Spongebob Squarepants. We watched as Spongebob and his friend Patrick ran through the bright colors of the ocean, hunting jellyfish and, of course, annoying the always cranky Squidward. However, today, the friends' crazy antics didn't even bring a smile to my face.

I tried to push aside the thought that kept leaping to my brain. Your sisters could be dead. What was the last thing I said to them? Did I hug them? Tell them I loved them? I couldn't remember. Maybe it was too late. I'd heard about this stuff happening in other schools, but it could never happen in Bailey, Colorado, right? Nothing happens here! It's a big event if my town gets a new stoplight! Maybe it was a dream. Maybe I would wake up soon and all would be well and... no. This was real. Every second felt like an hour. Spongebob's laugh came from the TV and I wanted to punch it. No one should be laughing right now. Shut up, you stupid sponge.

Just as I was about to cry, my mom come in. In a frightened voice, she informed Josephina and I that our sister were okay and had been evacuated to the elementary school nearby. All was well. No one had been killed. Yet.

The joy at seeing my sisters was overwhelming as I rushed toward them and gave them a huge hug, never wanting to let go. I looked around and saw tears of happiness all around as parents were united with their offspring. I couldn't help but smile. As I continued to look on at the families around me, I noticed a few tears streaming down parents'were different. These weren't happy tears. Something was wrong.

It didn't take long for news of what happened to get around. The shooter took a few girls hostage and "did bad things to them," as my mother put it. He then released all but one: The cute girl from earlier. She only had time to pull out her cell phone and send one final text to her family: "I love u guys." Life escaped her young body as a bullet entered it. Her killer then ended his own life, a coward of prison. And as quickly as it began, it was over. My first crush was dead before I knew her name.

I didn't go to the funeral of Emily Keyes. A funeral meant it was over. I didn't want it to be over. Instead, I sat at home, watching more Spongebob and laughing with my family. I glanced around at the loved ones surrounding me and realized how beautiful family is. Life is a gift, and one is never sure when it will be over. From that day on, I hugged my family a little tighter, loved my friends a little more, and enjoyed life to its' fullest. The storm of terror had ended, and a new day was beginning.