(A\N: This is based off of a walk-out at my school today. It was in memory of the seventeen people shot in Florida, and in protest to gun violence. A few of my fandoms are included in this oneshot, as well as the song This Is Gospel with my own modified lyrics. All the characters are in middle school for this story)

Bendy stood next to his friends, facing the crowd of kids that were gathered in front of the school. He shivered, rubbing his arms. It was cold, but this was important. One name flew through his head, and when his turn came, he voiced it. "Alyssa Alhadeff."

Cuphead stood up straight, not flinching when a sudden gust of wind hit his face. He was too hardened by the tragic story that replayed through his head. He waited for his turn, exactly one minute of silence after Bendy, then called in a clear voice: "Scott Beigel."

Mugman's fists tightened in his jacket pockets, refusing to let a single tear fall from his eyes as his turn came. After the minute of silence, he tried not to choke as he said, "Martin Duque."

Boris pulled off his hood in respect, despite his ears freezing. He had come from gym class, and still had his neon orange pinnie on. When his turn came, he clasped his paws together and said the name that had been balancing on the tip of his tongue. "Nicholas Dworet."

Felix clutched Oswald's paw behind his back so only anyone driving by on the road behind them would see. His heart pounded. He took a deep breath before voicing his sorrow: "Aaron Feis."

Oswald gripped Felix's paw tighter as his turn came. He gulped, swallowing the ball of tears welled up in the back of his throat. He nearly choked when he spoke, but kept his voice under control as he said, "Gina Montalto."

Thomas looked at the sorrowful faces of the children watching him. His eyes were full of understanding and shared sadness, and his words too were full of that sadness as he read off the name he was given. "Cara Loughran."

Roman shivered as a cool wind rustled through his hair. But somewhere in his heart, a voice yelled at his that this was not as cold as the heart of the bastard who shot the man he was about to speak of: "Chris Hixon."

Virgil watched everyone shivering, silently thanking his mother for allowing his to wear his favorite hoodie to school that morning. The smell was comforting as he thought of the mothers who never would get to say anything to their children again. He kept his emotion inside as he spoke. "Luke Hoyer."

Patton bit the inside of his cheek, and bowed his head. He felt like he would burst out crying. His heart ached, reaching out to those who lost friends and family in the shooting. He ran through the poem he memorized in his head, and spoke the name of the person it was about when his turn arrived. "Jaime Guttenberg."

Logan stared at the ground, his head full of thoughts. He fixed his tie and glasses, unable to stop fidgeting. He was cold, uncomfortable, and trying not to cry. He pushed his glasses up his nose as he spoke the name that troubled him: "Joaquin Oliver."

Edd tried not to think of the can of cola he left on his desk in his history classroom. He tried not to think of the Pi day party his math teacher was holding after school. Instead, he thought of the child who got murdered by a boy just a few years older than her. "Alaina Petty."

Matt fiddled with the pocket-mirror in his hand, his eyes shifting from face to face. He caught a glimpse of a poster that read 'Thoughts and Prayers Don't Save Lives; GUN RESTRICTIONS WILL" before looking away. "Meadow Pollack."

Tom thought of his friends, his acquaintances, and his enemies. If someone were to come shoot at his school, would he be like the girl he was to speak of and save them by dying? He continued to ponder as he spoke. "Helena Ramsay."

Tord thought of the person he was to speak of. Such an out-reaching person who loved being with his friends. Could he be like that? Could he be like the person he spoke of? "Alex Schachter."

Booky thought of the girl who she was given. Such a sweet girl, driven by her curiosity and thirst for knowledge. This is to you, Booky thought. "Carmen Schentrup."

My friend Zoe, the one who organized the walk-out, stepped forwards. She held up a microphone, and announced the final name to the waiting crowd. Her eyes were dark, and her permanently smiling mouth a frown. "Peter Wang." She thanked everyone for braving the weather and waiting outside for seventeen minutes. She said "We have a poem written by one of the victim's friends, Samantha Deitsch." Patton stepped forward, and read off his poem.

He stepped back, and tried to hold back the tidal wave of tears. Zoe stepped forward.

"Seventeen dead in this shooting alone. Thousands dead since 2012. We are the next generation!  Our generation is getting shot down, so we who remain must remain standing! We must do something! I would do a walk-out every day if it meant stopping all the violence. I would walk out here in the snow all my days if I could avenge the thousands who can't." She thanked us for our time again, and dismissed the crowd.

I walked through the crowded hall, trying to get to my math class. I began to hum a song I've been listening too, then sang softly. My friend from a few grades down joined in, and hummed when I made up my own lyrics. I could hear some more humming from kids near me. This wasn't part of the walk-out, but I sang anyway.

"This is gospel for the fallen ones,

Locked away in permanent slumber,

Assembling gun policies

From pieces of broken memories,

Oh~ (this is the beat of my heart, this is the beat of my heart)

Oh~ (this is the beat of my heart, this is the beat of my heart)

Flying bullets and gleaming guns conspire against the odds,

But they haven't seen the best of us yet,

Gun violence must go!

Gun violence must go!

'Cause those shots ring out, shot right through the heart,

The world is falling apart,

Their lives are gone, the next move is ours,

The world, the world is falling apart.

Oh~ (this is the beat of my heart, this is the beat of my heart)

Oh~ (this is the beat of my heart, this is the beat of my heart)

This is gospel for the mourning ones,

Sobbing mothers, sorrowful fathers,

Confessing their apostasies,

The killer was a perfect imposter,

Oh~ (this is the beat of my heart, this is the beat of my heart)

Oh~ (this is the beat of my heart, this is the beat of my heart)

To them it was the end of the world,

Don't bury me alive,

Cause I won't give up without a fight,

Gun violence must go!

Gun violence must go!

'Cause those shots ring out, shot right through the heart,

The world is falling apart,

Their lives are gone, the next move is ours,

The world, the world is falling apart,

Oh~, the world is falling apart,

Oh~, the world, the world is falling apart,

Oh~ (this is the beat of my heart, this is the beat of my heart)

The world is falling apart

Oh~ (this is the beat of my heart, this is the beat of my heart)

The world is falling apart

Oh~ (this is the beat of my heart, this is the beat of my heart)

The world is falling apart

Oh~ (this is the beat of my heart, this is the beat of my heart)

The world is falling apart~" I finished the song, and stepped through the door into math. The sorrow was gone, only motivation to END GUN VIOLENCE remained, coursing through my blood.

(A\N: Sorry it was so depressing, but this is important. A month and two days ago, there was a shooting at a school in Florida. Seventeen people, students and teachers, were killed by a former student. This hasn't been the only school shooting. Since 2012, there have been NEARLY 300 SHOOTINGS AT SCHOOLS. WE ARE THE NEXT GENERATION. WE MUST END THIS NOW.)