I wake up. Thursday, September 21st, 7:00 is what my alarm clock reads. Thursday, September 21st, 8:05, 8:06, 8:07 is what my wrist reads. My mother walks in.
"You don't have to go to school today, sweetie. They would understand; I would understand," She says as her eyes fill with tears.
"No, I have to, I can feel it. I have to say bye to my friends, they wouldn't understand." She nods. We hug, then she pulls away.
"I love you," she says as she squeezes my hand. "I love you so much. Your father does too. I love you, so much. More than anything. Goodbye," Her eyes are red, tears spilling at a rapid pace.
"No, mom, goodbye's are too hard. See you soon." I choke out. She leaves and I try to get dressed quickly. 7:05. I grab my bag and run to catch the bus.
I put my bag beside me so no one sits by me, and, luckily, no one does. 7:10.
When I reach homeroom, my watch reads 7:20. My time cannot come quickly enough. 47 minutes.
In homeroom, we talk about not getting stressed during SATs, like the teachers know what it's like during SAT's.
7:50 when the bell rings for chem. 17 minutes. My breath shakes as I walk in, and my friends rush to meet me. They hold me and we cry together. Leah holds my hand as we wait.
I try to tune out the teacher, but then the alarms go off. An intruder.
Mr Brown rushes to lock the door and shuts off the light as we rush to get out of eyesight of the windows. We hear screams and footsteps as they echo through the hallways.
More screams ensue, bangs and gunshots. Footsteps, closer and louder. Closer, closer, closer. My friends hold me tighter, but I know. This is my fate.
The doorknob is shot off so suddenly we scream, and the most stunning man, no, woman, walks in, gun in hand. Her features are sharp, her black eyes, her sharp cheekbones, her full red lips.
Some people try to get out, she shoots them, and they crumple. One of them screams in pain and grips his leg. Someone tries to rush forward to help them, but she shoots him again.
We scream and my friend's grip tightens on me. 8:05.
Her gun points to the teacher and she shoots him right between the ribs. One of the numbers on my wrist erases, 8:05, I have met my soulmate. Then another erases.
8:06, I have accomplished my life goal, I have accomplished my life's goal, realize who my soulmate is. One more.
She shoots my friend, right in the leg.
"Leah, no, this can't be, no, Leah, don't leave me, I need you when I go," I tell her, gripping her hand tightly with mine. The shooters gun points toward me. 8:07 my watch reads.
The number erased from my wrist.
Her finger tightens on the trigger, and the world goes black.