User: IrishHumanoid

"I... I can't feel-" My pleads continued to feebly escape into the deathly air. The smell was nauseating at this point, being almost infectious. Simply recognizing the shapes that guided us became a true challenge, blood loss now setting in. Maybe it was only my drama queen-like nature, this could've been just shock. The wound that grazed my side only sliced the skin.

Yeah, that's it.

Continuing to lull myself into a false sense of security, my knees had begun to buckle. Joan let out a groan, now put under new stress. Physical sense drained from my lower body, nearly tugging me to the floor with a magnetic force. This is completely unprofessional of me, putting my life in a student's hands.

Maybe, if I survive this confrontation, some gratitude could be in order.

My brain was taking on an otherworldly feeling, now ordering my spasmodic thoughts with ease. This was probably just my heart burning out, giving my mind this one last moment of clarity. Blinding light flooded my eyes, and my body became dead weight as we reached the hallway. My head rammed into the tile, and listening to the distorted, pining calls of Joan.

"Michael?"

"Mr. Aiden!"

"Mike, hang on! Dude, I got you. You're safe now..."

Consciousness crawled back, unforgivingly quickly. My side was stitched up, and my breathing was labored. They were pretty okay signs, considering they weren't the infamous pearly gates I've heard so much about.

My shirt had inched up my chest in the process, darkened by the contained splatter of red. Noticing I sat in a simple nurse's office, empty of any officials, I slowly trailed into the main hallway. A surviving victim? I'm surprised the police weren't hanging over my bed.

An echo of chatter seemed to steadily echo from the gymnasium, while my classroom was silent. Another lockdown was being enacted, I guessed. Knowing my absence would soon be recognized, I snuck into my office.

Only two things were on my mind; bass and mini amp.

If we were going to be shut away in a small space for- who knows how long, I'd make a good time out of it. White-knuckling each possession, I purposely stumbled in front of the gym door, immediately being tugged inside, with a disgusted official glaring.

"How irresponsible," He scorned me, without an identity in my mind.

I isolated myself in a corner, and began to tear through random solos. A few caught the low sounds, and sat around, watching warily. Looking up from the instrument, I caught Joan's recognizable gaze. She visibly sighed with relief, and winked at me.

That girl felt like a niece more than a mere student.

I've probably been through four albums worth of bass lines by now, but the hobby still intrigues me.

I'll honestly never get tired of playing. Nope, scratch that! Exhaustion sat on each my eyelids. Sliding the bass on my opposite side, so no snotty kids mess with it, I dozed off. For a second, I linger on whether this would be considered a nap or a goodbye...