Terrell Hicks

The YellowJackets

The pulsating sound of their beating hearts vibrated the drums of ten-year-old April Moore's ears. She covered them, attempting to block the sound. It just intensified, generating a rapid heartbeat within her. Beads of sweat appeared just where her hairline met; the temperature of her body began to rise. What is happening to me? Her sharp brown eyes looked around the classroom noticing the minute things most people wouldn't; the specks of dust throughout the room the ventilation system was recirculating, the dirt that lay between the floor tiles, a tiny stain on Mrs. Mitchell's Louis Vuitton bag that the teacher hadn't even noticed.