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Ayishah knew she should have been running to safety, like everyone else in the cafeteria, but she just couldn't.

The police were already on their way. Multiple students had called the police station, bombarding them with pleas and cries. Everyone else was running, running towards the big exit near the cafeteria. The exit that would bring them home and grant them their safety from the killer on the loose.

But Ayishah's feet were glued to the ground, and all she could think about was one person: Laila.

The police will be here soon. They'll save her.

However, Ayishah's mind only found ways to counter the thought, thinking up more and more scenarios, none of them good.

She could be dead by now.

Ayishah couldn't stop worrying, which was why she made the most stupid decision in her life.

She started running towards the lower grade building, her head spinning.

Laila, I'm coming.

She left the cafeteria, running towards the classroom where she knew a little girl with a face similar to her own would be waiting, afraid.

Panting, Ayishah skidded to a stop when she almost slammed into a tall man almost twice her size blocking her way.

Not just any man.

The devil himself.

Ayishah's eyes widened in horror as her legs moved on their own, anxious to get away from the shooter.

But alas, bullets travel much faster than feet.

Ayishah Fathimah Binte Abdul Kareem laid dead on the school floor as her killer walked away slowly, his face void of emotion.

Her last and final thought being one of her little sister.

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Janelle knew she shouldn't have been in class during lunch. It was against the rules. If any teacher had found her, she would have been toast.

All Janelle had wanted was some peace and quiet for some time. A change from the loud and annoying cafeteria during lunch.

But at that moment, stuck in the broom closet, hiding from a shooter on the loose, Janelle would have given anything to be in that stupidly loud cafeteria with her irritating friends, and safe and sound from the horror scene she was in.

Janelle knew she would have been spotted immediately by the killer had she hidden anywhere else, but hiding in the broom closet was killing her.

Too little space.

It felt like the walls were caving in on her. She felt suffocated. Her lungs were struggling, her heart pumping at a rate so fast like never before.

And then the door to her classroom opened.

Janelle could hear it. The small creak as it slowly opened.

Never in her life had Janelle been so glad that her classroom door hinges were old and rusty and made the loudest noise ever.

She felt her heart rate quicken–if that was even possible. Her hands were shaking, sweat gathering at her forehead.

If only... if only I hadn't been so idiotic.

She would die there, in that broom closet. She knew it. No would come looking for her dead body. She shouldn't have even been in the classroom in the first place.

As someone shuffled in the classroom, footsteps erupting from the friction between shoes and the concrete floor, Janelle focused on her breathing, trying to make it as shallow and quiet as possible.

Breathe in.

Janelle felt cramped in, her legs in an uncomfortable position. If only she had removed the broom in the tiny closet before getting in, then her feet and body would have had more space.

Breathe out.

Janelle's hands were shaking harder now and all the poor girl could think of was the sound  those very hands, that very held behind her in an awkward position, would make should they bump against the wooden broom behind her.

Breathe in.

Her back hurt. She wanted to fall back. To lay against the wall behind her.

But the broom was  behind her. And that very thought filled her head with countless worries about how wrong the situation could go should she move the least bit behind.

The broom could hit against the wall.

Her thoughts were a whirlwind.

It could break.

It was only then that Janelle realised that she was still holding her breath, and the footsteps were coming closer.

Janelle could feel her teeth starting to chatter. And that wasn't a good thing.

Using all her willpower, Janelle willed herself to keep as silent as humanly possible and shut her eyes, trying to focus on her breathing to calm herself down.

She could feel the presence of the 4 walls around her, like hands around her neck, suffocating her, strangling her, killing her.

Her breathing grew faster, and she began to sweat profusely as the ringing sensation in her head engulfed her.

Soon, the footsteps receded and slowly, they left forever. But, even though the killer was gone, the nightmares he left behind would stay forever.

And with the thought of walls caving in on her, and hands strangling her to her death, Janelle fainted in the small humid broom closet of her classroom.

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