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We were playing in our algebra class, we weren’t supposed to skip, but our teacher is new, and easy to fool, and the 8th grade classroom is always empty for middle school lunch period.
It is 10:03 A.M, our chemistry teacher should’ve started taking attendance, although she looks more relieved than ignorant when one of us is absent. Well, teach, now it’s three students off your load!
“What’s for lunch today again?” One of us asks.
“I don’t know, probably some pink chicken. Bet you’ll still chug it down you fatass.” Says the second one. At that, the first swats the second.
“Don’t they say that in the announcements?” I start, I’m the third, and as soon as I do, I contradict myself. “I mean, that mic looks like it’s begging to be replaced..”
”Where do they record that, anyway?” Asks Madison, the first I mentioned. “Is it with Martin?”
“No,” Says Lucas, the second, he looks like he’s about to retort something rude. “I’ve been in Martin’s classroom during the homeroom period, the mic isn’t there, maybe the other hallway.” He never does, he’s nice like that.
Our school is divided into hallways, it’s not one big building with stairs and lockers, no, we’re too broke for that. It’s a school that looks like a military camp, every hallway is its own building, except the gym, library, cafeteria, front office, you know.
“How are we staying here?” I ask. “Lowkey, these kids have the classroom stinking! What are they doing here?” I turn around from my spot in the front desk, the classroom is full of graffiti, dick drawings, hearts with initials, and some formulas we learned last year. It’s corny, but I take pride in being a freshman.
“I heard two guys made out in here.” Says Madison as she gets her phone out, she’s chuckling as she speaks, almost as if she’s mocking them.
“No way.” I answer back, she starts nodding quickly and going through her instagram.
“Yes! They did! In that corner, Sullivan didn’t even care! Took him a full 5
minutes to notice!” She pointed to the corner that we were nearest from, lucas and I knew that if we kept acting like we didn’t believe it, she’d pull out an actual footage- we liked our eyes too much for that.
“I love Sullivan,” Lucas starts, leaning back on his desk. “He 's so chill! Remember last year? When he would play fun games with us and play music while we worked?”
And the intercom started, lockdown status. We took it as a drill, so we just locked the door, the lights were already out by the time we walked it. We switched out bad desks from the dirty floor.
“Do we have to keep quiet? I mean it’s likely a drill.” I started.
“Let’s keep quiet,” Madison went, “Someone will snitch on us.”
So we did. Thirty minutes just chatting about people we knew, songs we liked, animes that would soon get another season and video games we could play at home.
“Ain’t this too long?” Lucas started, instant change in topic—“Remember that time when the fire alarm started going off just at dismissal? Some 12th graders thought it was cool. I got home late that day, gave a long chat to my mom so she wouldn’t whoop me.”
”I do remember!” Chimed Madison. “I came in late the next day, and I saw her raging at the receptionist for the ‘bad student control’, then she saw me and showered me with hugs and kisses and gave me that pie for me and Ayna.”
I am Anya.
“The pie was good.” I said, “I love pumpkin pie.” I exaggerated ‘Love.’ I remember i was the one who ate most of the pie, i was being the fatass compared to Madison, normally she takes that title. She holds a record of 5 lunch plates with no crumbs left.
“The lockdown is taking too long.” Madison said more quietly. “Has anyone texted anything?”
I take out my phone, Lucas curses as his has no battery.
“The kids on the other hallway say they heard some banging coming from the cafeteria.” I say, looking at my grade level’s groupchat.
“Ha, someone probably got stuck on the other side, you have to wait for someone to open the door for you.” Lucas said, still in denial about his phone. “I remember banging on that door and Hall opened it in my face.” I do remember that. “Or maybe some 7th graders decided to play mentally unstable. Remember when Patrick did that? He got suspended!”
”Gunshots.” I say, more quickly and casually than I now would’ve liked. I thought they were wrong, my classmates are dumb.
”No way.” Says Madison, leaning in even if she has her phone right on her hands.
Someone got shot.
It’s the last message I read before the banging is as clear as day in our hallway.
In an instant, Madison got her phone and we went under our teachers desk. We were so close we would’ve gotten detention for it if it were a normal day. We stay quiet for a while. A long while.
A long, long, long, long, while.
”..How did someone get in with the doors locked?” I whispered.
“It’s a student, it has to be a student.”
I get a notification, we all freak out and throw the phone around to silence it. “You- idiot!” Madison whisper-shouts. “Turn that shit off!”
”It’s off, it’s off!” I copy her tone.
The first, the second, and the third. Madison, Lucas and me. We’re all 14, well, not Lucas soon, he’ll turn 15 tomorrow.
”Do you think the police are already notified?” I asked.
“Call them,” Lucas whispered, leaning into us for comfort. “Just in case.”
We used Madison’s phone for the call, very short call, we told them what we knew, the location of our school, where we were.
We’ve already taken notice of the situation, is what the caller told us.
”That means help will arrive soon.” Lucas whispered. I didn’t know I was crying until Madison leaned close to me. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head. I’m the 27th. “If..if it came from the cafeteria,” I sobbed. “What could be of the kids in there? They’re so tiny, and..and, what if they’re all dead?” I used to complain about the size of middle schoolers. It was all thanks to the bad diet they got from their parents, now, it has become a source of pity to me. Lucas started to tear up too.
“What about the kindergarten buildings?” He sobbed. “I’ve got a little brother, what if-“
We spent 15 minutes comforting Lucas, how nothing likely happened in the Kindergarten building.
“It’s taking too long.” Madison said. “When we called, they said they already knew about-“ More banging, we stayed silent as we heard screams of people we knew.
Madison was the 28th, Lucas the 26th. 27th, 26th, and 28th compacted in one corner of a dirty 8th grade algebra classroom.
“What if they’re not coming, like they know..but don’t care.” I started.
“They do care!” Madison scolded.
”I mean, they took their sweet time with Uvalde.” Said Lucas, he seemed to be accepting this thought too. “It’s such a scam! Protect the kids! The kids are so innocent! They’re the future!” Lucas said, voice full of mockery. “Yet, they take more than 40 minutes to get to an active shooting.”
“Oh, but God forbid they take away their precious guns!” Madison continued. “For self defense. Yea, I mean I would’ve believed that in the 1700s, but now? Fuck that.”
I was with Madison on that one. I got into an argument with my US history teacher about why I would choose to get rid of that amendment. It was just an assignment, and she got so worked up about it.
“Just not my little brother..” Lucas started again, we weren’t able to get the thought out of his head.
“I want to be a lawyer when I grow up.” I started, I wanted Lucas to get out of those thoughts. “Mostly, because of the money, but, maybe one day I’ll do something very good.”
“That’s nice,” Madison said. “I wanted to be a doctor.”
“Wanted?” I asked, looking at her. “Yes,” she continued, “I don’t know if I’ll get to grow up now.”
We stayed silent. “We will, the door’s locked.”
Lucas was still crying.
“Honestly, I don’t know what kind of doctor I wanted to be,” Madison said, looking at the ceiling. “I just knew I wanted to cure people.”
“I told myself that I was going to see the world.” I said, “Everywhere, like, everywhere and anywhere.”
“But how would you get money?” The 28th laughed.
“I don’t know, that’s a problem for me in the future.”
“They don’t care.” Said 26th. “We’re going to die.”
“We’re not.”
The banging continued, we heard the voice of a classmate we knew, cut short by more gunshots. We knew what that meant. He was saying stop.
“I want to go home.” I said, hugging my knees.
”I want my mom.” Madison continued.
“What’s the goal of it?” Lucas asked. “To kill, what’s the satisfaction? I don’t get it. How does one see cruelty and think ‘Oh that’s awesome let’s try it’ It’s..it’s…ugh!”
I was calm about it, but the sinking feeling of how many dead people were likely around me made me start crying too. Some of them were my friends, or people I passed by one day. They would never get to grow.
“It’s been an hour. Police have to be here already, don’t you think?”
“They aren’t. Our hallway’s the closest to the exit they would’ve come here first.” 28th told me.
“Or maybe, they went to the cafeteria where the middle schoolers were shot dead!” 26th said, he didn’t want to be rude. He was being realistic, he was hurt, and angry.
Too loud, sadly. We found out how loud he was when a man dressed in all black came in with a shotgun, I didn’t see his face.
Our words ended there too, we didn’t get to grow up.
He was arrested, eventually, 5 years in prison thanks to being a very good lawyer, that’s what I heard my mom say in despair.
It isn’t fair to any of us, why didn’t we get the chance to grow up?
I’m Anya. That’s Lucas and Madison.
Madison and I are forever 14. Lucas didn’t get to eat the birthday cake waiting for him at home.
We never got to grow. We’re all fourteen. We’re not targets, we’re children.
One says childhood ends by when you get your period, or when you reach 12 or 13. I don’t think so. I think childhood ends when you realise how horrible the world is. Childhood ended that morning for me.
I was a child. Lucas’s little brother doesn’t know why his older sibling isn’t coming home.
We’re not targets. We’re not something to throw those bullets of emotion too. To test how thrilling cruelty can be. We’re children. Let us grow up.
Look at our pictures, our birthdays, at our mommy’s and daddy’s holding us the day we were born. Look at the bedrooms we’re never going back to. Look at the scattered toys, our pictures with friends and the beds unmade our parents don’t have the heart to make again.
Look at the classroom we’re at. Look at our works, the words on the board, our drawings and graffiti—no matter how disgusting they may be. Don’t try to ignore the blood.
We didn’t get To Grow.
I was the 27th body, followed by 26th and 28th. They didn’t even care about our names. They counted corpses, not children.
And the world will forget about us in two weeks.
Second Amendment
A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.
Bill Of Rights, United States Constitution
End of story.