heard a cubicle on the right being kicked in. Only that was weird because there was no cubicle on the right. I’d been in the last cubicle. I was sure of it.
I didn’t want to walk towards the cubicle door. I wanted to close it and wait in here until someone came in and saved me. The cubicle thing got to me, creeped me out. Maybe I’d just got caught up in the moment. Maybe I hadn’t run into the last cubicle after all. My attention was understandably elsewhere when the gunmen had chased me into the restroom.
That’s all it was. Confusion. My mind playing tricks on me.
I didn’t even consider that the glass smashing in my classroom and this had anything to do with each other. Not just yet.
I held my breath. I could hear silence outside. Silence, and a few groans from fallen people. I didn’t want to move. I was shaking so hard that I wasn’t sure I could move.
But Damon. Ellicia. My parents. They’d be worried about me. They’d be so worried. I had to get out of this place—to take any chance I had to get away.
I took a few deep breaths—breaths I knew damned well might be my last. And then I walked closer towards the open cubicle door.
Walking wasn’t easy. My legs felt like jelly. Every step I made, I was convinced my feet were going to just collapse underneath me, that my knees were just going to give way.
But they couldn’t. They couldn’t because I had to get out of here. I had to get out of this stadium and had to get home.
And I could never step foot near this place again. Ever.
I reached the cubicle door. My heartbeat pulsated up my neck. I peeked around the side of the cubicle door. Looked for any sign of movement, any sign of life.
The mirrors in the restroom were smashed. So too were some of the sinks. On the floor, bullets.
I tried not to look at the blood.
I wiped my forehead and then gritted my teeth together to stop them chattering. I thought about just stepping back. Going back inside that cubicle and hiding in there. I’d got lucky. Somehow, I’d…
When I turned around to the right, something sent a shiver up my spine.
I wasn’t in the cubicle at the end. I’d realized that much earlier.
But I wasn’t even in the cubicle next to the end.
I was right on the other side of the cubicles. Nine, ten cubicles, all to my right.
I stared down at them, unable to get my head around what’d happened, unable to understand how I’d got where I was, when I heard footsteps approaching the restroom.
I stepped back. Closed my eyes again. Stayed as still as I possibly could.
“You hear something?” a voice asked.
Silence. Then, “Thought I did. Never mind. Let’s get down to the field and get the hell outta here.”
I listened to the footsteps run away again. I opened my eyes. I was convinced the speaker had been right in front of the open door of this cubicle. But then, they can’t have been. They’d have seen me.
“Let’s get down to the field and get the hell outta here…”
Those words echoed in my mind. I knew I had my opportunity to escape, my chance to flee. They were going down to the field, so I had to find my way down the steps and towards the door. I couldn’t stick around here. I couldn’t risk it, not anymore. I’d taken my chances as it was.
I took a deep breath—similarly difficult as the last few I’d taken—and then walked towards the cubicle door.
I didn’t look to my side. If I had, I’d have realized right there and then that something seriously weird was happening.
I was in a different cubicle again.
I just didn’t know it yet.
I walked past the broken glass, past the fragments of sink and mirror all over the floor. I kept my eyes ahead. I didn’t want to look around. Didn’t want to see the chaos the gunmen had caused.
I just had to keep moving.
I just had to get out.
I stepped towards the exit of the restroom. Looked to the left. Clear. Then to the right. Totally clear.
“Please,” I mumbled, my lips quivering. “Please.”
And
I didn’t want to walk towards the cubicle door. I wanted to close it and wait in here until someone came in and saved me. The cubicle thing got to me, creeped me out. Maybe I’d just got caught up in the moment. Maybe I hadn’t run into the last cubicle after all. My attention was understandably elsewhere when the gunmen had chased me into the restroom.
That’s all it was. Confusion. My mind playing tricks on me.
I didn’t even consider that the glass smashing in my classroom and this had anything to do with each other. Not just yet.
I held my breath. I could hear silence outside. Silence, and a few groans from fallen people. I didn’t want to move. I was shaking so hard that I wasn’t sure I could move.
But Damon. Ellicia. My parents. They’d be worried about me. They’d be so worried. I had to get out of this place—to take any chance I had to get away.
I took a few deep breaths—breaths I knew damned well might be my last. And then I walked closer towards the open cubicle door.
Walking wasn’t easy. My legs felt like jelly. Every step I made, I was convinced my feet were going to just collapse underneath me, that my knees were just going to give way.
But they couldn’t. They couldn’t because I had to get out of here. I had to get out of this stadium and had to get home.
And I could never step foot near this place again. Ever.
I reached the cubicle door. My heartbeat pulsated up my neck. I peeked around the side of the cubicle door. Looked for any sign of movement, any sign of life.
The mirrors in the restroom were smashed. So too were some of the sinks. On the floor, bullets.
I tried not to look at the blood.
I wiped my forehead and then gritted my teeth together to stop them chattering. I thought about just stepping back. Going back inside that cubicle and hiding in there. I’d got lucky. Somehow, I’d…
When I turned around to the right, something sent a shiver up my spine.
I wasn’t in the cubicle at the end. I’d realized that much earlier.
But I wasn’t even in the cubicle next to the end.
I was right on the other side of the cubicles. Nine, ten cubicles, all to my right.
I stared down at them, unable to get my head around what’d happened, unable to understand how I’d got where I was, when I heard footsteps approaching the restroom.
I stepped back. Closed my eyes again. Stayed as still as I possibly could.
“You hear something?” a voice asked.
Silence. Then, “Thought I did. Never mind. Let’s get down to the field and get the hell outta here.”
I listened to the footsteps run away again. I opened my eyes. I was convinced the speaker had been right in front of the open door of this cubicle. But then, they can’t have been. They’d have seen me.
“Let’s get down to the field and get the hell outta here…”
Those words echoed in my mind. I knew I had my opportunity to escape, my chance to flee. They were going down to the field, so I had to find my way down the steps and towards the door. I couldn’t stick around here. I couldn’t risk it, not anymore. I’d taken my chances as it was.
I took a deep breath—similarly difficult as the last few I’d taken—and then walked towards the cubicle door.
I didn’t look to my side. If I had, I’d have realized right there and then that something seriously weird was happening.
I was in a different cubicle again.
I just didn’t know it yet.
I walked past the broken glass, past the fragments of sink and mirror all over the floor. I kept my eyes ahead. I didn’t want to look around. Didn’t want to see the chaos the gunmen had caused.
I just had to keep moving.
I just had to get out.
I stepped towards the exit of the restroom. Looked to the left. Clear. Then to the right. Totally clear.
“Please,” I mumbled, my lips quivering. “Please.”
And
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