My mind was totally blank. Empty. Dead. I sat there, staring at my empty piece of paper for an endless amount of time. Before I knew it, the blue straight lines began colliding into each other making me wheezy, dizzy, better yet—motion sickness. I found myself thunderstruck. How was it that I could sit in my desk and stare at a single piece of paper for so long that my mind would play tricks on me? Why is my brain on off mode today? Perhaps it’s due to my lack of motivation, or maybe my lack of breakfast. An awful buzzing noise began to scream in the halls, interrupting my thoughts. Fire drill, I thought to myself, and shrugged it off while I decided to stare at my blank piece of paper for god knows how long.
The noise wouldn’t stop, and nobody was getting out of their seats, other than Mr. Fritz, who went down to the office to figure out what was going on. Annoyed, I went to shut the door because the noise was brutally obnoxious, but when I looked down the hallway, I saw something frightening. The halls were smeared in blood.
How could this be? No gun shots, and all the students were in their classrooms. Suddenly I was apprehensive. I ran into my classroom, shut the door gently to make sure nobody from the outside would hear. I locked it and closed the blinds.

“Cassie, what’re you doing?” My friend Ashleigh asked. Her face was smooshed into a bundle of confusion on her smooth, flawless face. I could see, just by the look in her pale blue eyes, that she too, was just as scared as I.
Within seconds after I had shut the door, there were several gun shots without a single pause in between. Not only were there gunshots but terrifying screams of agony. As quickly as I could, I hid underneath Mr. Fritz’s desk in an enormous box that he had been using to pack his items. I could hear bodies shuffling as they made adjustments into their hiding places. I began to think to myself, I’m going to die. I’m going to die with people I’ve known all of my life, a young age, where I’ve accomplished nothing but school. People are dying that don’t deserve to die. Including myself. I began to cry. The warm salty liquid oozed down my cheek, like a wound would bleed. Endlessly. Forever. A crackling noise began to echo across the intercom, with a snarling, angry and violent voice.
“You’re next.” The voice whispered.
That was all it kept repeating. It was quiet but the horrifying words rang loudly in my head, harmonizing with the beat of my heart. Then I realized he voice was oddly familiar. I tried to match the voice to a face and I recognized the voice as my father’s. Horror, complete horror, overlapped the many emotions that were embedded in my mind.
“Cassandra Steele?” My father snarled.
The room fell silent. They knew, as well as I, that the voice was my father’s. The gasps and cries that came after the realization gave it away.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” He taunted in a singsong voice, half heartedly.
Footsteps were approaching and not far behind was a shadow. A loud BANG…..BANG…BANG.. shook the door. Repeating itself over and over like the rhythm of a song. Then a long pause left several people on edge. Moments after, the door collapsed, hinges broken completely off. Shrieks escaped from my classmates’ mouths. My father was dressed in a dark cloak and was wearing a gas mask. In his right hand was a sword covered in fresh dark blood. In the other hand was a gun. A black shiny gun.
“Come on Cass! I raised you better than that! Come say hello or Sassy Pants gets it!”
Sassy pants, meaning Ashleigh, my best friend since kindergarten. I crawled out of the box and bolted towards my father, I stood in front of the gun, that was aimed directly at Ashleigh’s face. He threw the sword against the wall, and threshed his long pencil like fingers into my hair, and yanked. Yanked my hair so hard that he pulled a blonde lock out of my head, leaving blood dribbling down my face. Ashleigh began to cry.
“Run!!” I screamed, my voice crackled.
Ashleigh did as I said. As she was running, she slipped in a trail of blood and began to cry and scream. Muffled by her cries was the gagging noise as she stood back up onto her feet, and sprinted towards the door.
“Honey, that wasn’t very bright. Now daddy is going to get in trouble.”
Daddy? I thought, this man was hardly a father to me. Never, ever was he there for me. He released his grip and threw me into a bundle of chairs. Breaking my leg in the process. I screamed in agony. He handed me the gun and said,
“Shoot.” With no expression on his face. I looked at him. Puzzled. Why?
“Shoot me. Kill me.” He said if I didn’t, he’d kill my friends. After what he just done, and how he’s never been there for me, I let my fingers go through the trigger effortlessly and shot. He dropped to the ground, and I felt free and for once.. safe. I hobbled my way over to his body and said nothing but,
“Daddy?”